Work Text:
It was raining. Of course, it was raining. Of all possible days, it was raining today.
Underneath his desk, he twirled his pencil in his hand. Get caught doing that—on the pretence of “being bored” or, in more clinical and domineering terms, “not showing an interest in the lecture”—and he was guaranteed punishment. Not quite caning, not yet, thank heaven, the horror stories of that were enough to make him grateful for what he received now, but an absence from dinner, or more chores, or…
He stilled his hand, and began scribbling what the teacher was saying. He’d caught him in the middle of a sentence, but he wrote it down anyway, and under the reign of Katherine…
The rain was pelting the window, nearly blurring the view beyond. He might enjoy going out in it and getting soaked, but then there was the business of mud-caked shoes and trouser hems and the difficulty of cleaning those things himself. Idle child fantasy that was, running out in the rain on a lark, and he was no child now.
He’d been waiting to meet with Sanjay for over a week now. It was hard, finding the time, and with the subterfuge it took… Freddie had wanted to tell him about that brilliant song he’d heard. It’d been something by Berry, caught from someone’s radio and it had such a great riff and tearing vocals! And he’d wanted to talk about the song he’d been working out himself on the piano, and the film he’d seen, and the horrendous nightmare that was life—no, better not talk about that, not about the sheen of grey that had come over him recently.
Not that the topics mattered now, anyways.
The rendezvous wasoff and he was stuck inside with nothing to do but think of the world outside. It made his head ache, just a bit, thinking of it. Perhaps he could rustle up the band for a practise session as there “wasn’t anything else to do.” That seemed the best thing. Perhaps one of the others heard the song and had an idea of the melody. If someone did they could work out a dodgy rendition of it. That’d be something, at least. But still—damn the rain, damn the whole sodding mess of life.
He bit back a sigh and tried to focus on the lecture again. Don’t drift off too far or you’ll be worse for it, Bulsara.
He dug his nails into his thigh and listened, attention shifting between the monotone drone of the history lesson and the pattering rain outside and the brief echo of the chorus in his memory.
You're on my mind, baby, every place I go
How much I love you, nobody knows
But someday, baby, I ain't gonna worry my life anymore.