September 2nd

It was already plain obvious to TJ that he was going to hate his business studies class, but he didn't know he would reach maximum level hate so soon. It was the first class, a mere twenty minutes in, and he was already thinking about absolutely anything else. What to eat for dinner, if he should just throw out that shirt that he dropped pasta on instead of trying to get the stain out, how completely adorable Noah looked in that pale blue sweater. Wait, what?

Shaking his head to rid his mind of all thoughts, he sighs. He needs to focus on this class, failing is not an option. There's no telling what his father would do to him if he did. All he knows is that it wouldn't end well for him, whatever the punishment may be. Focus. He needs to focus. No thoughts about dinner, or pasta stains, and certainly not questionable thoughts about his roommate.

No more distractions, just pay attention to the boring man talking about boring business things. What are they even studying again?

*****

It was just as Noah always dreamed of, exactly as he pictured the art room to look ever since he received his letter of acceptance. Table stained with paint, bright colours everywhere you look, fresh canvases just waiting to be transformed into something magnificent. It brings joy to his heart, practically skipping his way across the room in search of the perfect seat. He can only hope that they don't jump straight into painting, he wore his favourite sweater for this momentous occasion, it would break his heart if it were ruined.

Only when Noah looks around again does he realise that he's the only one there, not even the professor had arrived yet. Maybe he was a little too eager. But as he gets the opportunity to really familiarise himself with his surroundings, he didn't care about seeming too eager. Punctuality is something he likes to pride himself on.

The clicking of the door has Noah tearing his attention away from a display of abstract artwork, his eyes meeting with bluer, yet smaller ones. "Umm... is this first-year art? Maybe I don't have the right room," the stranger panics. His hand shakily peeks back out of his long sleeves to reach the door handle again, definitely looking like he was about to bolt.

"This is the right room! We're just early," Noah lightly laughs. He takes a second to scan the boy, taking in his defined features. Sharp jawline, sharp cheekbones, sharp nose... is this guy related to knives?

Although he had striking features that just demanded attention, it was painfully obvious how shy he was. He was still standing by the door as if he were scared to enter the room further, still looking as if he was in the wrong place.

Another thing that Noah prides himself on is making others feel more comfortable, and this boy really looked as if he could use a friend. "Wanna sit with me? Since we're the too eager ones."

"O-okay."

"I'm Noah, by the way. Big lover of rough sketches and oil paints... how about you?"

The other slowly shuffles across the room, timidly setting his bag down on the floor and perching on the seat beside Noah. "I'm Leo... I'm more interested in watercolour."

"Oh, I love watercolour! But unfortunately, it's my weakest area. I always manage to get every colour mixed together so it just looks like one gigantic mess."

Leo laughs almost silently, finally looking at the other to offer up a kind smile. "If you ever need any help then you can ask me."

"Ah, thank you, you're honestly a lifesaver. And if you need any help with oil painting or whatever then I'm your guy!" Noah says excitedly, flashing a bright smile of his own.

Leo looks away once the conversation fizzles out, favouring staring at his fingers and hiding behind thick strands of blonde hair instead. Noah lets him since the rest of the class were finally starting to fill the space in the room, he didn't want to push him into a conversation when he was clearly already so nervous. Besides, he thinks he made friends with him, and that he's glad of. College was already going better than high school did.

*****

"Was your first class THAT bad?" Noah says, amused when he enters the room and sees TJ angrily typing away on his laptop.

"Worse. And to make my day even more shit, I made the football team." TJ slams his laptop shut, letting out a loud sigh as he flops back on the mattress, his head crashing into the pillow that Noah gave him.

"Just make sure to never invite your football buddies to our room, I don't want them scaring our fish."

"We don't even have the fish yet."

"And whose fault is that Mr I'm too tired to go and shop for a beloved pet," Noah frowns. He kicks his shoes to the corner of the room before sitting down at the foot of TJ's bed, something he's grown fond of doing.

"I agreed to go on Saturday, stop bitching."

"Well, I'm impatient."

"Really? I haven't noticed."

Noah can almost feel the sarcasm dripping off of TJ's words, only offering him a just as sarcastic laugh in return.

"Why are you always on my bed anyway? You do have one of your own, you know," TJ questions. It wasn't to do with the fact he actually had a problem with it, if he's being honest he actually enjoys the closeness. But that scares him, so he questions it, hoping that it will help him understand.

"Your side is better, I wish I would've chosen the left. But it is nice to look at my side from over here, it's such a pretty view." Noah so casually pushes the question away, poised as if he had been rehearsing the answer over and over. The real reason would push TJ away, make him think too much into the whole situation for a meaning that Noah didn't even know himself. He just likes being close to him.

"You're weird."

"You say that as if you're not too."

TJ scoffs but makes no effort to deny the words, only closing his eyes and staying silent. Far too aware of Noah's fingers on his leg, continuously tapping to try and keep him from napping, the touch burning through his jeans and hitting his bare skin. This was a well-known feeling by now so he's past flinching away, past trying to make sense of it all. Because everything was slowly starting to make sense to him, he's just trying to still pretend that it doesn't.