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~~~ Dormitory | Jakob
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By the time the very first knock was heard, César looked almost asleep. Eyes closed, his head softly rested against the ceramic, and his chest rose and fell in an agonisingly slow, steady rhythm. In truth, it would have been the perfect opportunity to take a nap: Jakob’s numerous shenanigans had left him exhausted, and the tub was small enough that he wouldn’t slip and drown if he gave in to the temptation. But the fact that he was absolutely certain that Poil de Carotte was coming back prevented him from doing so. He did not wish to wake up with a moustache drawn on his face, nor with half of his wardrobe tinted any more funny colours. Yes, by then, César had understood that his looks were very unlikely to save him from that insufferable redhead’s vile plans.
Insufferable indeed. César’s eyes fluttered opened as another knock was heard, and then another. He silently sat in the tub as they got considerably louder -so much that by the time he finally turned his chin to look at the door, he could hear the large window panes rattle. Window panes? César frowned, eyes set on the bathroom door, as if to correct his thoughts -and his shoulders tensed. The knocks, albeit loud, came from further into the dorm, a little towards the balcony, confirming that they were what was making the panes rattle.
Apparently, Jakob’s earlier tumble had caused César to completely forget the other student’s flying abilities, because the only thing that crossed his mind then was that someone had definitely climbed up from the gardens to his window, and that it naturally had to be with ill-intent. Certainly no one one with a normally-functioning brain would do such a thing. Although momentarily considering staying exactly were he was, César eventually stepped out of the tub, the hot water dripping down his body and steam radiating from his skin. The mirror had completely fogged up, but he could tell from the warmth in his face that his cheeks were flushed: visibly, he was not in a state to welcome anyone to his room, and much less fight a stalker.
César’s fingers reached for the fleece towel that had been hung by the bathtub, gracefully securing it around his waist, before he swept up towards the door. The cold that slipped from under it was nagging at him, and certainly did not help the goosebumps that rose on his skin each time the knocking got louder. César paused, staring at the doorknob with visible apprehension -and then, very reluctantly, he took it between his fingers and pushed it back. The door was pried open ever so slightly, allowing him to slip his head into the living room. And then all apprehension quite literally dropped from his system.
“Jakob,” he growled, although his tone was tinted with what was obviously relief. Poil de Carotte was hovering above the balcony tiles, leaning towards the window panes, and César had never so badly wanted to rip the grin off someone’s face. “Who does that?” he snapped, flying the door open as if Jakob’s actions were the most offensive one could carry out. He glided towards the balcony, prompting the window panes slightly ajar -enough for him to settle between them, but not enough to allow the other student in just yet. “You really couldn’t come in through the door?” César pestered, standing his ground despite the fact that his attention was being pried away by the simple fact that Jakob, when hovering like that, was considerably taller than him -giving César quite a view of his form.
@ethereal | I also vindicate crazy long posts.
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