99 problems and leo is definitely 1 | mo & leo
@lvghtsup
When Moses transferred to Verona, he had one goal: to finish his book.
He told his father something like ‘transferring to a university will allow me to widen my breadth of study’ or ‘I’ll have more opportunities for outreach.’ Some shit like that.
Theology was his only option. He was a master's student, after all. One didn’t just change one’s mind halfway through (even if seminary school had left him with a bad taste in his mouth). Anyway, it wasn’t like he was going to tell his family about his newfound love for putting blue ink on lined paper. Moses quite liked that weaving stories of grandeur and fantasy, mysticism, and magic was his secret and his alone. When he was in the hospital, he had written the majority of his first book. Now he was taking a break from the editing process to start the second.
Usually, he’d hide in the library. But he was inspired. And it was a beautiful day.
He was meant to be reading The Bible or the Torah or a book by some dead guy. Whatever it was, it was tossed to the side of the bench, forgotten. It was only by chance that he looked up when reaching for his coffee, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
Fuck me.
But they had already made eye contact, albeit brief. And one of the sources of Moses’ myriad of problems was making his way over. He had to think fast, stabbing out his cigarette against the arm of the bench. Did he have enough time to escape? He might have enough time to escape. He would risk it. Collecting his items in enough haste for all of his stray papers to slip from his notebook. “Fuck.” Listen, the Bible on the campus floor was one thing, but his manuscript? All it would take was one gust of wind for that shit to be spread across campus, and he’d be damned if he’d let that happen.
Mo gingerly lowered himself to the ground, pen stuck behind his ear, for now, hands scrambling for stray paper. He tried to keep focused. Maybe if he didn’t look up, Leo wouldn’t -- damn it he was looking up. He didn’t mean to it just happened. “I...” He stopped his glasses from completely slipping off his face with a knuckle, before returning to his task, “...I got it...”