Long Walk Home // Carter & Thea
"Dismissed."
James's voice rings out over the silent room, loud and stern. It's a trick he picked up somewhere along the many training courses, or maybe it's just something you inherit with the officer title. Either way, the students in front of him leave the classroom and James is left with an hour break before he has to use it again.
The few pieces of paper on his desk are arranged perfectly, in a small stack. Carter's eyes cut down as he reads over them, trying to keep his thoughts in line. It's hard work, with so many cadets blending together, keeping one class separated from another. It's his job, sure, but that doesn't mean it's an easy one. Hitting moving, breathing targets is easy compared to teenagers.
It's supposed to be his lunch break. He stands, brushing the invisible wrinkles off his slacks in a downward motion. He memorizes the state of the room, more out of habit than anything else, and fixes an askew desk. Perfect, or sort of.
Carter walks, briskly and with purpose. Students mill about, talking to one another, and James walks past them all. He doesn't flinch or look over when someone joins his stride towards mess.
"Cadet," James says in a way of greeting. "I hope you're hungry."
