A Scarlett Ruin

Chapter Four

Julian figured it was getting woken up to a dirty sock in the face explained his foul mood. It was quite the way to start the day. He'd meant to finish up his homework early the night before, but he'd instead headed out with Amir to some pub in the closest town. The night had been a mixture of vomit on his friend's part and swaying on his. It was a miracle they even got his car back in one piece.

Everything had ended with him waking up his roommate before tumbling face first into bed. He supposed that might account for the sock that'd been shoved into his face, but it felt rather dramatic. Especially considering that he'd be bound to wake with a punishing hangover. Was that not punishment enough?

And, because his friend was feeling particularly vindictive, Declan was keeping their assignments hoarded into his binders.

There was a pulse throbbing behind his eyes and Julian had every ounce of it directed upon the redhead. It was a miracle his fucking ridiculous hair didn't combust with the weight.

Apparently Declan wasn't quite as oblivious as he'd originally thought. "Got a problem there, mate?" That was a snide question if he'd ever heard one. The endearment slid of his tongue like a taunt, managing to voice it with his nose cemented in the spine of a geography textbook.

The fucking prick.

When his friend raised his head, only to look up at him innocently, Julian made sure his responding glance was nothing short of contemptuous. "You need to get laid, mate," he said, mimicking Declan's tone.

It was enough to have Declan giving a jolt, the murky green of his eyes swallowed by the white, wide and questioning. Julian only returned it with a flat one of his own.

The only reason he turned his head away was to pick up his tea. And this time he was careful not to look at his friend as he sipped at the steaming mug, eyes shifting around the hall languidly over his classmates. The look became bored rather quickly. Still it was preferable to the books he had tossed on the table after stalking Declan out of the dormitory in the morning, curses burning his tongue.

When he finally tired of glaring over the other students haughtily, Julian allowed his gaze to settle down on his friend again. He'd intended to keep the disdainful expression but it faded instantly in the face of Declan peering at him almost studiously.

He hadn't meant the words to get quite that reaction.

"What?" he asked sharply, barely noticing that his sip of tea became rather aggressive.

The word at least got Declan to blink out of that deep stare. He only gave a shrug before putting his paper, letting it scratch across the page. "Nothing."

It should have been easy to reply in kind. The problem was that while he'd always been brilliant at indifference, as well as feigning it when the moment dictated, Julian had never been proof against curiosity. And Declan's look had it burning in the pit of his stomach. He managed to stay quiet for a long moment, desperately wishing for a fag.

He'd knocked the last one out of the pack on the walk over, so that was a problem he'd have to solve sooner or later.

Without a cigarette to distract him, Julian couldn't hold him back any longer. "It's not polite to mumble, you fuck." Neither bothered to mention that his voice was in fact just over a mumble – his grandmother would be mortified if she could hear him speak. "And it's not nothing, so just spit out already, will you?"

Still Declan didn't look up from his book. Julian was just about to call him a shit when he noticed the way he was frowning down at his book, the lines cutting deeply into his face. Surely the essay couldn't be that hard. "I was talking to my parents before you got in last night. Well, long before you got in."