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@piplipleigh
Someone asked if they could clean my shoes for money today.
Ah, so you’re one of those people. I get it. You victimize yourself. Well, sorry, Taylor Swift. Didn’t mean to get your panties in a bunch. I’ll be going now. I don’t really feel the need to talk to you anymore. Peace.
I...am not even sure how to respond to that statement. Comparing me to Taylor Swift is an interesting concept, but completely inaccurate. Have a good evening, then.
Someone asked if they could clean my shoes for money today.
I know when to keep my mouth shut and when not to. I treat my teachers with respect. Most of them, however, don’t come at me with this bullshit. What makes you so different, hm? I apologize if I offend you in anyway, sir, but I’d rather not be toyed with right now. You most likely don’t care anyway. You’re probably only in the teaching business to manipulate and speak down to all of us young folk.
I've put up with attitudes worse than yours so you don't offend me, but I don't see how any of it is bullshit. I was merely trying to justify the man's actions and you started having an attitude with me for doing as such. I don't find the need to speak down to my students and think that teachers who do that are really rather rude trying to do such a thing. If you can point out where I've toyed with you or spoken down at you without trying to insult me in the process, I'm more than willing to apologise for my actions, but I don't see how I've done anything wrong in this situation.
Someone asked if they could clean my shoes for money today.
I don’t really understand why you’re still talking to me and trying to make it out like you know who I am. I have a bad attitude? So be it. Why do you even care anyway? Is this your pathetic attempt to try and reach out to your students? It’s not working.
No, because like i said before, I like to not judge people until I know their situations, but I know that based on your current behaviour that if it's like this all the time, teachers aren't going to put up with that. I care because you ought to know that not all teachers are going to put up with that kind of behaviour. Sometimes students appreciate a teacher's input in their lives. Clearly, you don't share that sentiment.
Someone asked if they could clean my shoes for money today.
Does it look like I care what you believe or what you think? Not really. Sorry, Phillip Leigh, but I’m not really all that interested in what you have to say or who you are. Have fun not judging anyone, Snow White. I’m sure that’ll get you so far in life.
Just as I'm certain that your attitude will earn you quite a few detentions over your years here at school. I have no problem dealing with your attitude but I imagine that you'll get on more than a few teachers' bad sides.
Someone asked if they could clean my shoes for money today.
I don’t really know what else to say to you, stranger. You spoke your piece, I spoke mine. Wanna move on or do you still wanna get off breathing fire down my back? I don’t have time for that.
I'm not breathing fire down your back. I'm just merely suggesting that he might have had other reasons for working on the streets than you think. I'm Phillip Leigh and I'm the French and ASL teacher here at Waxler, and I believe in not judging before you know the details of someone's situation.
Someone asked if they could clean my shoes for money today.
I think it’s completely moronic to demean and belittle yourself by choosing to polish people’s shoes. He couldn’t try doing something that didn’t make himself look like a failure? I gave him some cash, but I didn’t need for him to clean my shoes. I don’t know where his hands have been and I didn’t want to make him look like a loser. Dude needs to get up off the floor and look around for some work, that’s all I’m saying.
Like I said, he might have already been looking for work but was trying to make a little extra cash on the side. It's a better alternative than trying to sell cocaine or something like that. Maybe he just has a family to feed.
Someone asked if they could clean my shoes for money today.
C’mon, go get a real job. If you’re more than capable to wait around all day on the sidewalk and annoy people for extra cash, you can go find a job doing something a little more worthwhile. Just sayin’.
Maybe that's all the person can do? Maybe they can't get a real job and they're doing that to try and earn some cash in between rather than just sitting around doing nothing. They might have applied for jobs and are just waiting for an interview and need more than just the unemployment cheques they get.
you're the one who's been stealing stars | Ryan and Phillip.
Ryan wanted to argue with the truth and insist that no, Ryan wasn’t here, but there wasn’t really anything he could do about it when it was obvious that the man calling out to him knew the truth. So he mumbled an apology and stared down at the snow around him; in what was mostly darkness, he couldn’t see that the cold was beginning to tinge patches of his skin into a ghostly, pale sort of blue, and of course he couldn’t see the deep shade of purple that had rapidly overtaken his lips. He blinked, squinting at the snow and wondering if the stars in his hands would be able to move underneath its layer — but the spark of electricity he felt upon sticking his palms into the snow and letting the white engulf his fingers was abruptly cut off by a weight being dropped onto him from above. The coat was thick and even though it didn’t weigh all that much, it felt to Ryan as though it weighed a hundred pounds; his arms gave out in surprise at its weight and he found himself crashing into the snow once again, more of it joining the dampness that had already melted all over him.
It didn’t last for long, though, as the coat’s weight was immediately followed by arms around him that attempted to wrap him up in it. Ryan froze, staring blankly ahead and hoping that if he kept still enough, nobody would see him — but curiosity got the better of him and he looked up at Phillip, watching and awkwardly moving one arm as though it might have helped the teacher’s efforts. One of his arms slipped into the coat’s sleeve while the other hung, rather uselessly, at his side. “Okay,” he mumbled after a moment. “Maybe I’ll trust you, maybe.” Ryan was barely aware of the words spilling from his mouth, but the second he made to take a step forward, it became crystal clear to him that such an action was completely impossible. His free hand shot out to grab for something to keep himself stable, crashing into Phillip’s side before he managed to grasp a handful of his shirt in a grip that transformed from weak to vice-like in a matter of seconds. “I think I’m going to fall.” Green eyes fixated on the ground for a beat as Ryan kept absolutely still, not a muscle so much twitching, for almost two entire minutes. When he finally relaxed and moved, he began to walk, talking small and slow steps in the direction of the ski lodge’s doors with a hand on his shoulder for guidance. “You have to promise,” he said quietly to nobody in particular, eyes fixing on the doors that he supposed would be his destination.
It was amazing to Phillip how small Ryan seemed to be in this state. He knew that the boy was often ridiculously loud and quite often made up for the fact that he wasn't the tallest person in the world, but here in the cold winter air, Phillip had to take a moment to realise that Ryan wasn't actually as tiny as he seemed to be in this exact moment. Were Phillip thinking about that, he would have been certain that it had a lot to do with the fact that he was shivering due to the cold and the fact that he was high on something, but in that moment Phillip didn't care about any of that, especially when his coat seemed to swallow the boy up as he more or less fell in the snow after Phillip applied it to his body. The man took specific care in making sure that Ryan didn't fall again as he moved to securely hook an arm around Ryan's body to make sure that he kept him standing, especially since he didn't need the already-freezing boy to be shivering and shaking anymore because of the snowy wonderland that was anything but at the moment.
Of course it was easier said then done to imagine that Ryan would be a cooperative person when he was so high that he couldn't even seem to function properly, but that didn't seem to stop the teen from trying to head off on his own towards the lodge. Phillip didn't even have a chance to tell the boy that he was glad he was thinking of trusting him before Ryan practically collapsed against him and tugged on his shirt so hard that Phillip would have otherwise thought it was going to be ripped off. "I've got you, I've got you," he murmured as he tightened his grip on the boy, making sure that they didn't both fall backwards into the snow before he looked down at Ryan and it made Phillip almost laugh, that he was here taking care of the boy on the anniversary of the worst day of his life. A bit of hysterical laughter escaped the man's throat but he cut it off almost instantly, not looking at Ryan as he started walking him back to the lodge. He knew that it would take them a long time to get back to the lodge and even longer to get him into a room where he was safe, and Phillip was almost certain that this was a bad decision, but he stopped just a few steps into their journey, getting Ryan to still beside him. "It'll stay a secret as long as you hold onto me, okay?" he told the boy quietly, still unsure as to what he was mumbling about but he knew that he could get him back inside safely this way. Phillip lifted the boy into his arms, focused on making sure that he just carried Ryan back into the lodge without any problems so that he could sit him down and try and figure out what he was on and if he could help him come down from the trip as quickly as possible. All Phillip could think of as he trudged through the snow was making sure that he got Ryan to a warm room and got some liquid into him so that he wouldn't be dehydrated.
you're the one who's been stealing stars | Ryan and Phillip.
There it was again: calls of his name, this time quiet and careful as opposed to the confused one he had heard earlier. Ryan frowned, scrunching his dilated eyes shut and shaking his head to rid himself of the noise. It didn’t work the way he thought it would, instead almost making it worse — who could possibly be calling out to him if not voices he’d made up? There was no explanation of reason for hearing those words, Ryan thought, but a glance at the lights twisting and swirling on the horizon told him all he needed to know. “Ryan’s not here,” he answered, pulling his knees closer to his chest and burying his nose in the dip between them. Doing so only shielded his face for a moment before he looked up again, the cold biting into his exposed lower back where his shirt had ridden up there, only to find the source of the voice: the silhouette of a man somewhere between the layer of flaky white that he thought might be the source of his numbness and the constantly moving layers of dark paint above them from which the stars shone.
But he couldn’t stay there forever. The coldness soaking through his skin and freezing over his bones was almost beginning to hurt, and Ryan had always known that nature was far more fearsome than anything another person could do to him. So he slowly started to uncurl himself, but rather than get up, the control he had over his limbs slipped away and he found himself lying in the snow again — this time on his stomach, snow directly against the exposed skin of his stomach as his shirt stuck to him. “Okay,” he breathed, forcing himself to look up until he could see that face again, this time closer than before. Ryan coughed and tried to swallow the thick, flavorless syrup that seemed to have gotten stuck in his throat. “I’ll come with you if you promise it’s still a secret,” he offered, and promptly rolled onto his back so that he could sit up properly. “Do you know who I am?”
"Yes he is," Phillip replied as he watched Ryan, more worried about the boy as the time passed on and he didn't seem to know who he was at all. It made Philip certain that he was in a trip that was definitely nowhere near good, especially if he couldn't recognise someone that he spent a lot of his time teasingly flirting with. "I see him right in front of me." The amount of worry building up inside of Phillip right now was nothing compared to the fact that he didn't know what Ryan was on and had no idea if he could even be useful in trying and taking care of the boy. All he really was focused on right now was making sure that he got him out of the snow and back inside the lodge where it was warm and he wouldn't potentially die of hypothermia. The coat in his arms was probably freezing and would do no good for the boy at this very moment, especially since he was practically burying himself in the snow, but Phillip's main focus was on just making sure that he got Ryan into the building where he would be warm and then from there figure out what to do with him.
When Ryan started to move, Phillip had to bite back the loud sigh of relief at the fact that he was functioning enough to do so. He had to make sure that he got the boy out of the snow, especially when it was coming even more obvious that Ryan didn't have control over his limbs all that well, most likely a combination of the coldness and the drugs. He watched as the boy floundered into the snow and a small sigh escaped Phillip's lips before he stepped over to Ryan, carefully dropping the coat over the boy as he tried to more or less scoop Ryan out of the snow and into the coat. "We'll keep it a secret," he said even though he really didn't know what Ryan was talking about. It probably had something to do with his trip and Phillip knew that that happened more often than not, that people started dreaming they were someone else or that there was something special about them that had to stay quiet or else something would happen to them. "I know you're Ryan," Phillip told him as he tried to wrap the boy up in the coat, attempting to at least keep him from freezing before he got him inside. "And I know that you're shivering, so let me get you inside and then we'll make sure that your secret stays a secret, alright?" Phillip really had no idea what he was doing in this position and he was worried about what was going to happen once he got the boy inside but right now he knew that that was the first step and they were so close.
you're the one who's been stealing stars | Ryan and Phillip.
Being dimly aware of the coldness that had begun to numb him all over didn’t mean that Ryan felt compelled to do anything about it. Melting snow coated his back as he lay in a messy heap of it, but his attention was piqued and fully invested by the stars moving in the sky above him. In the darkness of the night, the wideness and dilation of his eyes wasn’t particularly visible, but his hands — stretched above him, waving at the thick lines of cloud that swirled around the blinking stars he saw as though they were a Van Gogh painting. Propping up his knees, Ryan smiled up at the sky, entranced by the show that nature was putting on especially for him and wondering it if would ever be possible for him to be a part of it. He hadn’t been able to get through the window, he supposed, so maybe flying that high up would be more difficult than he had anticipated.
A call of his name managed to break though the thick, imaginary fog that surrounded his mind. What are you doing out there in the cold? Ryan heard the words, but he didn’t hear the kind, concerned tone of his teacher. Quickly rolling onto his front and his knees, he attempted to get up, searching for someone to hide and immediately falling over again because his bones were simply made of lead. Moving efficiently wasn’t an option, but somehow, Ryan knew that he needed to hide; perhaps he wasn’t supposed to be here, and playing with the stars would have repercussions that he didn’t understand. Was the government involved in that sort of thing? Breaking the laws of physics surely merited some sort of punishment and in Ryan’s mind, the call of his name was a warning for that. Despite struggling not to trip over and floundering in the snow, the brunet managed to reach the building’s walls again before he collapsed in a heap, crawling forward and stopping only once he had situated himself beneath the window through which he’d tried to jump. Nobody would find him there, he thought, and slumped where he sat, back against the wall and knees drawn to his chest.
In the few moments that it took for Ryan to register that Phillip had called his name, the man took the opportunity to try and assess the situation. He had dealt with a high roommate or two in his life before Ètienne and Charisse had gotten an apartment and invited him along during his university years, but it had never been someone who he had to take care of in a capacity such as this, and definitely not one of his students. Phillip had hoped that this would have never happened but he knew that there really was no way to avoid it, especially when he had dealt with drug use from the students before, particularly the one who was making nonexistent snow angels outside of his window. He worried about the boy’s sanity and his health in the very moment as he looked on at Ryan, freezing a little from his perch against the windowsill, and Phillip couldn’t even begin to imagine how frozen the boy in the snow actually was, even if he was in a trip that caused his nerves to not feel it or even made lying in the snow a pleasant experience. When it came right down to it, Phillip knew that he had to get out there and take care of Ryan if the boy didn’t come back down from whatever he was on and come inside.
The startling and very confused reaction from the boy once he realised that he was being talked to instantly worried Phillip and it reminded him of himself when he had first found out that his aunt had died; it was a sense of need to escape from the setting he had been in, and Phillip could tell that that was exactly what Ryan was trying to do. Escape. Phillip knew that the boy wouldn’t get far after he watched him stumble in the snow and he had to resist the instant desire to grab for a coat and run outside to help him because he had to make sure that Ryan wasn’t going to run off the second he moved, so Phillip waited. He kept quiet as he watched the boy scramble about and only when he settled pressed against the wall beneath his window did Phillip move. He pulled on a jumper and grabbed his coat, draping it over his arm so he could wrap Ryan up in it, before he headed outside, making sure that he left the window open as to not startle him as well as grab his room key. The bitter blast of winter air that Phillip met when he stepped outside made him tempted to turn right back around and go inside but he knew he couldn’t do that so he trekked through the snow until he spotted the boy pressed against the wall in a way that reminded Phillip of a startled deer. It upset the man, seeing Ryan like this, and he knew that he had to fix it, so he carefully knelt down in the snow, eyes focused on Ryan the entire time while he kept his distance as to not scare him. “Ryan,” Phillip said softly, keeping his tone even to keep from making him try and bolt. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I just want to get you out of the snow.” Phillip paused for a moment before he fumbled when the coat, eyes still locked on the boy. “Will you come inside with me?” he asked softly as he looked at him. “Please?”
you're the one who's been stealing stars | Ryan and Phillip.
Barely thirty seconds had passed since Ryan had left the party he’d put together himself and he had already forgotten why he’d walked away. Was he looking for something? Had he left something behind at the ski lodge? Maybe he’d left to chase the lights moving on the horizon; they shone like stars, but even through a drug-laced haze, Ryan knew that stars belonged on the sky, not in the snow. He felt… weird, to say the very least, and fogged as his thoughts were, he knew that none of the countless times in which he’d taken drugs had felt like this. Had he taken anything? Lux had had something in her hand and he’d taken it from her, but had that been tonight? That could have been weeks ago. Ryan shook his head, watching the cold clouds of his breath that appeared every time he blinked as they swirled around his mouth. Heh, heh. He was magical and there was nothing in the world that could stop him, not when he was levitating and all but flying back towards the building, not when—
A yelp escaped his throat as he stepped on a rock and tripped over his own feet, rolling over in the snow and landing on his side. Cold soaked through his layers, ice cold that bit into his skin, thousands of teeth too small to be seen but sharp enough to hurt. Ryan’s eyes widened as the sensation hit and hastened to sit up, grabbing hold of the hem of his sweater and yanking it over his head; he left it there in the snow, shrugging out of the old gray cardigan he had on beneath it and leaving it there too, a trail of garments spread out in the snow as he stumbled towards the ski lodge once more. His skin hurt, he thought, blunt nails attempting to scratch at his arms to stop the feeling. It didn’t help. The stars on the horizon blinked back at Ryan, shifting in their spots and he couldn’t do anything but look, wanting to touch them and wishing he could. Tearing his eyes away, he blinked, attempting to focus on where he was. The bonfire he’d set up hours ago continued to burn in the distance behind them, nothing but an ongoing stream of smoke visible of it, but Ryan was oblivious to it, his dilated eyes fixated on the ski lodge that he had somehow caught up to. The closest window piqued his attention, its curtains semi-closed but open enough to reveal that the light inside it was on — and warm, too, he thought. Surely the light was warm. Goosebumps had risen on Ryan’s bare arms but he had barely noticed, paying them no heed as he approached the window and leaped up as high as he could; a boy who could fly would have no problem passing though a pane of glass, but the pain that ripped through his shoulder when it crashed into the window and his upper back when he hit the ground said otherwise. Ryan couldn’t bring himself to move again, not when the stars were inviting him to look at them, dancing in the sky and creating such intricate patterns and shapes that he could only lie still and raise his hand to the sky, attempting to follow their movements with his fingers.
It was happening again. While Phillip knew that he ought to be over it and removed from the fact that this day brought a breakdown with it every single year, he couldn’t seem to escape that fact. It was the anniversary of his aunt’s death, something that most people would have just seen as something to remember and honour, but to Phillip was the worst day of his life. He didn’t talk about his aunt with anyone unless they were close enough to him for Phillip to feel confident to share his deep dark secrets with, and no one in Waxler had become close enough for him to even considere wanting to divulge that he lost someone that was more important to him than his parents ever could attempt to be, that he had been closer to than his two best friends were to him now. This was something that Phillip was already ill-equipped to handle when the time came each year, but having to do it over a ski trip when he was surrounded by his students and the entire faculty that he knew he needed to act completely normal around was even more difficult than he thought it would be. This was supposed to be something he was able to handle when it happened over a decade ago, but Phillip still wasn’t over the fact that losing his aunt had traumatised him and left Phillip with an inability to heal completely from the event.
He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of a pounding noise on his window and Phillip bolted from the bed, body shaking a little as he tried to suppress a potential mental breakdown that was just minutes from occurring. He had to put it off, had to keep from completely falling apart when he needed to be professional and keep himself together in this situation. Phillip stepped over to the window and he pushed the curtains aside, blinking a little bit when it revealed that the sound didn’t come from a snowball being thrown at the window or anything like that, but a boy that he had more than enough difficulties handling lying in the snow beneath his window. He had dealt with enough strange things when it came to Ryan Black, including a stoned conversation with him on more than one occasion, but he never expected that he would find him spread out in the snow beneath his window, looking like he was more than a little out of his mind. Were he not focused on the mysterious appearance of the boy outside, Phillip would have been impressed with the fact that it only took seconds for him to snap out of what had been an impending mental breakdown to worry about a mostly-cocky student who liked to casually hit on him, but that wasn’t even a thought that came to mind at the moment. Phillip unlatched the window and he pushed it open, poking his head out just slightly as a shiver ripped through his body and he tried to understand how, if he was freezing when he just opened the window for a second, Ryan was out there in nothing but a t-shirt and not dying of hypothermia. “Ryan?” he asked softly, any sense of stern, teacher attitude lost in the moment of confusion. “Ryan, what are you doing out there in the cold?” He had a feeling that the boy was definitely on something, although he wasn’t quite sure what, and depending on the circumstance, Phillip knew that taking the boy back to his room wasn’t going to be a solution, but for right now he just had to see how he reacted to being talked to so that he could figure out the next step on how to deal with his frustrating student.
hot chocolate addictions | phillip & anakin
Anakin likes Phillip.
He enjoys the fact that he isn’t told to be quiet when his thoughts go on tangents, and that he doesn’t have to sugarcoat the things he says for fear of offense. All his life he’s told himself constantly to shut up, McFlyor stop it, nobody’s going to listenor stick to two decimal places because five would make everyone stop paying attention you rambling idiot. The freedom that comes with being to express himself is nice. For all his fluttery, corny feelings, he still apologizes profusely around Liam for just about everything he says—Phillip, on the other hand, is comfortable. And that’s probably because he doesn’t have to worry Phillip’s going to leave him for someone better all the time.
“Water-hating Belgian chocolate?” Anakin questions, the ghost of a laugh somewhere in there, but he doesn’t go any further than that, because all in all it’s still hot chocolate: incredibly fancyhot chocolate (which Anakin has no doubt he can’t afford with all his funds going into his research), but chocolate nevertheless. He takes the tin in his hands and looks it over with a sort of awed silence, reading over the text despite his inability to understand the language. Italian and English can only get you so far, and he doubts a knowledge of Klingon would’ve made a difference, too. He treats the tin like it’s made of glass, like he’s afraid he’ll stain it, somehow. It’s not his, after all. “Did you receive this as a gift, then?” He finds his head tilting, a tiny curve of his lips. “Because you have some really generous pen pals. They’re more generous than my husband-to-be, too, considering he’s kind of going through an existential crisis right about now… but you don’t really expect much from Cameron Frye.”
Anakin smiles, a crooked thing that reaches his eyes, and he walks over to the fridge in the room to take out a carton of milk. “It’s a good thing I really like my dairy,” he mentions, off-handedly, as he pours it into an electronic kettle for heating, “but one thing I learned in life is that milk is good for poor people. Fills you up—not as good as food, but it’s affordable.” He ties the ends of the blanket around his neck like a cape, for fear of it slipping off his shoulders. He’s already beginning to feel a little warmer.
“Thanks, by the way,” he continues, turning towards Phillip and shoving his hands into his pockets. “For the hot chocolate. I neither confirm nor deny the suspicion that I have a sweet tooth.” And, like an afterthought, he blinks suddenly and clears his throat, making a sort of rickety hand gesture.
“And, uh, make yourself comfortable, too! Really. I’m going to force Space Impact into your hands, so a good seated position is recommended.”
"I feel like any form of hot chocolate that is at a higher quality rate than the average store-bought brand is water-hating hot chocolate, but that one in particular," Phillip said with a small smile before he looked at the man, watching the way that he made his way over to the the mini-fridge that was a nice little staple to any cabin room. He rather enjoyed the ability to know that he could go buy a small carton of milk from the little store down in the lobby if he wanted to make some quality hot chocolate, but it brought an even bigger smile to his face to find that his companion already came prepared to prepare the anti-water hot chocolate that he had brought along. "I know that I appreciate your like of dairy, and I'm sure the hot chocolate does as well. It will probably taste a lot better if it's prepared the way that it's supposed to be prepared." He didn't comment at the fact regarding Anakin's sweet tooth, mainly because he was certain it existed due to the fact that he was here with hot chocolate in the first place, unless that was secretly just an excuse to spend time with Phillip which the man wouldn't have been opposed to if that was the case. After all, he could always use a friend or two who wanted to experience his company, and he usually turned people off based on the fact that he preferred to have deep, intellectual conversations rather than just spend time going out and doing things, even if that was alright too. How he still had the two friends he did, Phillip would never understand, especially since they were both too busy to spend time listening to his intellectual conversations.
"I'm sure once your future future husband's existential crisis is over he will definitely treat you as well as my friends do," Phillip said with a soft chuckle before he nodded. "Yeah, it was part of a birthday gift last month from my two best friends. I attended university in Paris and met them while I was there, and while I really have no idea why they still bother with me because their lives are so busy, but it's nice to know that I can end up looking forward to a present or two over the course of the year, even if they're ridiculously outlandish most of the time." He paused, a hint of a smile on his face as he thought of the trip that Charisse had put together for a last minute plan to spend Christmas with them in France and he shook his head a little bit. "Am I going to regret coing to your room now?" he asked as he looked at Anakin before he settled down on the edge of the bed, pressing his hand into the mattress so he could lean back against it and find a comfortable position. "I'm not going to be stuck here until two in the morning draining your phone battery, am I?"
hot chocolate addictions | phillip & anakin
He’s going to get hypothermia for sure, at this rate.
Anakin continues to drink from the instant ramen cup (it counts as soup, doesn’t it?), the liquid warm as it crawls down his throat. He’d taken a shower not too long earlier, though he hadn’t bothered combing his hair after rushing his towel through it, so it sticks up every which way as he sits on the carpet of his room with a blanket draped over his shoulders. His laptop is on the floor in front of him, 8-bit video game music drifting from his speakers as he types with one hand and keeps the other curled over the ramen cup so he can continue to sip at it. There’s a Microsoft Word document open, and he’s on page 87 of 223. Anakin furrows his brows as he looks over the calculations in his tables for conversion, and as he chews on some noodles and tilts his head to the side, the numbers crunch in his head.
Vacation or not, the defense for his master’s thesis is drawing near, and Anakin can’t remember being this nervous before—for academics, anyway, on account of nervousness seeming to be a common emotion on his end lately. Shaky hands, rapid heartbeats, shifting gazes and frustrated swears… Anakin mumbles something about human stupidity and chews on another mouthful of noodles, before a peek at the cup tells him there aren’t any noodles left. A shame. He supposes he could always make more. Star positions take priority over more ramen, though, and he continues to sip at the remaining soup as he switches windows to his simulation program of the Universe As We Know It.
The sound of creaking wood has him looking up from where he’s seated, disheveled hair and ramen cup still to his lips and all. The sight of Phillip has him smiling against the rim, and he shifts the muscles in his legs to bring his knees closer, the soles of his feet on the floor and pushing to get him into a standing position. “I’m not sick yet,” he promises, and with the toe of his socked foot he gently pushes at his laptop to close it. “And you forget I’ve mastered the Force pretty well. A cold isn’t going to overpower me, I don’t think.” He takes a few more large gulps of ramen, the little bits of noodles left going down his throat without a hitch, before tossing it into a nearby trash can and feeling particularly proud of himself when the cup falls in perfectly.
“And, uh, you’re welcome to bring the rest of your body into the room, too, if you want to. But if you just want your head poking in, I promise I won’t judge.”
Phillip watched with slight amusement as Anakin closed the laptop and it made him wonder if that was something that he did often. He didn't often consider closing a laptop with his foot, but if you had your hands full, then Phillip imagined that it was a convenient way to make sure that your laptop got shut and tucked away. "I'm glad you're not sick yet," he said as he stepped into the room, chuckling quietly. "And I'm hoping that you don't get sick at all, but if you do, please don't get me sick too." His tone was teasing as he pushed the door shut behind him, watching in an impressed manner as to the way that Anakin managed to get the soup cup that he had been eating from into the garbage can without missing. "You must be pretty impressive with the Force, based on how you managed to get that cup in the trash bin without having to get up." He grinned a little as he nudged the door shut behind him, resisting the urge to chuckle a little bit about Anakin's statement about how much of himself he wanted to bring into the room. "I appreciate your complete lack of judgement, but I think we'll both be more comfortable if I don't leave my body in the hallway. Plus, that'd make it a little awkward for anyone who's wandering their way down the halls."
There were few things that could get Phillip to stop overthinking around this time of year and luckily for him, spending time with a colleague that he quite enjoyed the company of was one of them. "Ah, here," he said after a moment as he remembered the tin of hot chocolate in his hoodie pocket. He pulled the metal container out of his pocket and offered it over to Anakin with a small smile. "I haven't tried it yet, but it's apparently supposed to be some divine hot chocolate made from the finest Belgian chocolate or something like that. I'm not really sure, to be honest. Skimmed that part of the letter." He offered the man a smile, wondering if he would have to explain about his eccentric pair of friends who liked to buy him lavish gifts now, but Phillip realised that he really wouldn't mind doing that. He hadn't really had a chance to tell anyone about Charisse and Étienne, excluding Lux, but that had been because he wanted to encourage the girl to succeed with her life goals, and Phillip realised that he really wanted to make friends at this school, not just be associates with the fellow teachers, and he wanted to be able to talk to them about his time in France and the friends that he had made there. "It's probably a crime to make this with water or something like that, but it's possible, or at least that's what the directions say. Either way, it's something sweet which will clearly do absolutely nothing to help keep a cold from coming on." Phillip paused. "I really do hope that you don't get sick again, but if you do, I'd love to hear what crazy wedding schemes come of it."
So here we are...
Yeah, same here. And skiing sounds just horrible.
Skiing isn't too bad. It's better than snowboarding, in my opinion.
So here we are...
What plans do you have?
I meant the things that they have to do up here. I don't personally have any plans, but it would be nice if I did.
So here we are...
You as bored as I am?
A little bit, but it's only the first day. I'm sure once we really fall into the plans there will be more to do.
