Cater stayed in his dorm the next day, claiming sickness. He could tell that Trey didn't believe he was really sick, but the Vice Housewarden was savvy enough that he let it slide. There's only so much you can do to stave off Riddle, though, and after a solid 24 hours of no appetite and restless sleep, mindless staring at his phone screen, he's hoisted out of bed and told to clean himself up.
He doesn't want to, and the reluctance to get out of bed is the worst it's ever been, but he does as he's told. Cater always does what he's told. It's easy to slip into that role, at least. You don't have to think too hard when you're following directions. The real problem comes with knowing what he's going to find in class: namely, a lack of Idia. Not that he's sure that Idia being there would be any more comforting.
It's hard to describe the way he feels when there's not even a drone or tablet around in his usual spot, but he knows that he doesn't want to be there. Doesn't want to face the day. It's exhausting to greet everyone with a smile and some cute turn of phrase, to take pictures like nothing's wrong.
So fake. He's so damn fake. How can nobody see it, that he's just a shell of a person? Why is everyone so selfish? Why is he so selfish?
The whole day goes by on autopilot. The next day is a repeat of the same. There's a nervous fidget in his dominant hand that he can't seem to suppress. When he tries to take notes for class, he just thinks about Idia.
Idia's eyes. Idia's smile. The shy laughter, the focus he gets when he does something he likes. The feeling of his hair through his fingers. The way he hides in his hoodie when he's embarrassed. The tears. Especially the tears.
And all of it, good and bad, he really lost all of it, didn't he?
We barely know each other, so why am I so hung up on it? He wonders if it's just guilt. Cater had had friends he knew for way longer that he was less sad to let go of. They were easy to ignore when they tried to reach out. There was always some kind of excuse he could make sound natural. Call: ignored. Message: left on read. Everyone gave up before too long. Whatever. He's been through it more times than he can count.
There's only so much of it he can stand. So that night, he caves. But even in trying to reach out, Cater isn't sure what to do or where to begin. He writes several messages that he erases before he hits send. By the time he finally settles on something after putting down the phone and tossing and turning several times, it's nearly 3AM.
r u awake?
Everything else was thinking too hard. At least this gives Idia the option to ignore him easily, if he wants.
TRY AGAIN? 10...9...8...
He doesn't want to, and the reluctance to get out of bed is the worst it's ever been, but he does as he's told. Cater always does what he's told. It's easy to slip into that role, at least. You don't have to think too hard when you're following directions. The real problem comes with knowing what he's going to find in class: namely, a lack of Idia. Not that he's sure that Idia being there would be any more comforting.
It's hard to describe the way he feels when there's not even a drone or tablet around in his usual spot, but he knows that he doesn't want to be there. Doesn't want to face the day. It's exhausting to greet everyone with a smile and some cute turn of phrase, to take pictures like nothing's wrong.
So fake. He's so damn fake. How can nobody see it, that he's just a shell of a person? Why is everyone so selfish? Why is he so selfish?
The whole day goes by on autopilot. The next day is a repeat of the same. There's a nervous fidget in his dominant hand that he can't seem to suppress. When he tries to take notes for class, he just thinks about Idia.
Idia's eyes. Idia's smile. The shy laughter, the focus he gets when he does something he likes. The feeling of his hair through his fingers. The way he hides in his hoodie when he's embarrassed. The tears. Especially the tears.
And all of it, good and bad, he really lost all of it, didn't he?
We barely know each other, so why am I so hung up on it? He wonders if it's just guilt. Cater had had friends he knew for way longer that he was less sad to let go of. They were easy to ignore when they tried to reach out. There was always some kind of excuse he could make sound natural. Call: ignored. Message: left on read. Everyone gave up before too long. Whatever. He's been through it more times than he can count.
There's only so much of it he can stand. So that night, he caves. But even in trying to reach out, Cater isn't sure what to do or where to begin. He writes several messages that he erases before he hits send. By the time he finally settles on something after putting down the phone and tossing and turning several times, it's nearly 3AM.
r u awake?
Everything else was thinking too hard. At least this gives Idia the option to ignore him easily, if he wants.