sometimes corbyn missed his childhood, as sad as it was.
there was no doubt in his body that happiness deteriorated with age. it was much more fun to play with bugs when a greater imagination was in his mind.
all he could do was talk to them now.
and as nice as their company was, he missed when he could at least pretend to be one of them. missed how he could make up scenarios; maybe a worm was a desert monster, maybe the bees were on a mission, maybe the caterpillars were all trapeze artists, magicians, spies.
he couldn't think that way anymore, not without clocking into the real world shortly after.
his head was glued to the floor, mind painted into the butterfly garden. as much as he hadn't been bothered today, that was probably because he'd been avoiding his foe.
corbyn's beautiful daydream was shattered the moment he made contact with another student.
his head bumped into their chest, seemingly just turning from their locker. every butterfly fell out of his mind quicker than they could've flown in.
"sorry! i— i'm so sorry, i promise it won't happen again."
he didn't dare make eye contact.
"oh! corbyn, right? i've been looking for you! how's your day been?"
okay, maybe a little eye contact, but only to know who it was.
daniel towered over him quite a bit, he was intimidating, scary. corbyn didn't want anything to do with him.
"good." that was the first thought that came to mind, nothing more needed to be said. why did he want to know?
the bell rang overhead, thank the lord. corbyn sent daniel a shallow nod before stepping to the side to curve around him.
daniel stepped where he did, though. stopped him right in his tracks.
"hey! you have bio, right? mind if i walk you?" his smile was deceiving, and corbyn was horrified of it.
"yes, i do mind, actually." corbyn was blunt, lips pursing as daniel didn't seem to move, eyes widening at the answer he didn't expect to receive. "can i please get by? i'm going to be late."
"of course you won't, i'll get us there in no time."
corbyn didn't get an option.
thankfully, he and daniel parted ways due to their opposite seats, but the same thoughts recycled in corbyn's mind. what does he want to do with me?
they were interrupted by the teacher's voice, however, so corbyn's head snapped to their direction and listened as the middle-aged man called out attendance.
although, that became boring at an unbeatable speed, corbyn's name was the third to appear in attendance, so he dropped his head to folded arms and allowed his professor's voice to drone on in the background.
corbyn's eyes flickered from trees to sky and any moving figure, settling on the spiderweb just outside the window with a gentle, short-lived smile.
hello,
i hope your morning's been nice.
as much as he wished he could reach through to take hold of the gentle creature, the window screen gave him no hope of doing so.
his head shifted, glancing curiously at the teacher. is he still doing attendance?
"is besson taken?"
that's when corbyn sat up straight, wide eyes trying to find the projected voice. his teacher glanced at the paper in his hands, shaking his head.
okay, attendance was definitely over. what's happening?
corbyn had completely blocked out the instructions, and it was horrifying to hear, "i'll take him!"
take me for what?
his hands were fumbling together, neck craned as if his teacher could see his worry and call off whatever taking was about to unravel.
"anybody else not have a partner?"
partners for what? sir, please, take pity on me. repeat the assignment, pretend someone else wasn't listening.
"group up."
majority of the class became mobile, corbyn's eyes forcibly focused onto his desk, mentally cursing himself. why couldn't i pay attention? i don't even know what i'm getting myself into.
his knee was rapid, leg bouncing up and down before he finally saw someone's backside hauling a desk beside him. fuck. i'm done for.
blond hair, who had blond hair? not a lot of boys, as corbyn could remember. to be fair, he didn't pay attention to them anyways, so he didn't have a clue.
keep your focus on the desk, don't stare. they'll leave, right? probably just taking it for their partner.
then the desk was roughly pushed against his, his partner clumsily tumbling into the seat as his backpack was lazily leaned into corbyn's.
"hey, partner. any ideas?"
corbyn's head turned a little, seeing how relaxed his partner was in comparison, body language completely open as he was angled toward corbyn, all focus on him.
please don't tell me...
somehow, corbyn was relieved to find daniel seavey sat beside him.
not by much though.
his expression was of a deer in headlights, brows only somewhat furrowed as his jittering movements had froze. why are you here?
"don't tell me you didn't listen to the prof." daniel feigned astonishment, although being somewhat surprised. besson was one of the top students in their biology class, and that's why daniel was still shocked to see how frightened and alert he'd been.
corbyn shook his head, leaning down to dig through his backpack for his binder. it was easy to hide his embarrassment if his head was ducked down in the desk.
"we have three weeks to get it done." daniel didn't even move, waiting for corbyn to flip open to his notes as the teacher dropped two papers to their desks.
it was quite clear that was the rubric and requirements, and corbyn quickly absorbed the instructions. thank lord i didn't have to get daniel to explain.
"i think we could do it on philematology..." daniel's brow quirked, a smug look on his face as he glanced back at his friends.
"fill-eh who?"
corbyn didn't hesitate to pull out his phone. maybe daniel would actually be helpful, which would blow him away if that was the case.
daniel's brows raised, surprised to get any words from corbyn. he composed himself quickly, seeing as corbyn opened safari.
the scientific study of kissing is called "philematology" (philos in ancient greek = earthly love). ...the act of kissing...
i've been proven wrong.
"i'm surprised someone like you knows that big of a word." corbyn's lips pursed, sighing as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket. another project i have to do on my own, huh? enjoy the only good grade you'll ever get, seavey.
although it was bold to think that daniel didn't get good grades, it was pretty justifiable considering what he was known for doing in school. i doubt he ever does anything in class.
it finally clicked in daniel's mind that corbyn insulted him, sitting up a little more and leaning closer dramatically. "what's that supposed to mean?"
he was enthusiastic, louder, and it made corbyn tense up with a flinch that hadn't gone unnoticed.
daniel sat back again, eyes burning into corbyn's being curiously. who do you think i am, besson?
EXTRA NOTES
-i may or may not miss posting
tomorrow we'll see we'll see
-anyways here's our boys✨😌