Chapter Text
Pyro sat quietly on one of the benches outside of the university with their head in their hands, trying to fade out of existence. Finals week was coming up fast, and they were getting closer and closer to graduation. It was supposed to be an exciting thing, and they were excited, but it was everything else that Pyro had to go through to get there.
There was no way Clinton would ever let them go through finals in peace. He took too much joy in Pyro's misery.
Pyro had thought that bullying was exclusive to grade school, and that they would be able to fly through university with no such problems. Of course, nothing ever went that smoothly in Pyro's life.
Still, he had survived for almost four full years at this point. The last stretch couldn't be any worse than what he had already gone through. He hopes, at least. He wouldn't put it past Clinton and his group to target him even harder now that they were going to be going separate ways.
Pyro sighs, standing up. They hug their arms close to their chest, nuzzling their face into the thick winter scarf around their neck. It was getting colder too. Pyro wouldn't be surprised if it started snowing within the next few weeks.
That would be unfortunate. They didn't have a car, and no one they knew would drive them. All Pyro could do was pray the weather showed mercy and curse their early morning classes. Luckily, Pyro didn't share many classes with Clinton's group.
The only time Pyro really saw them was when they sought him out, and with finals they wouldn't have nearly as much time for tormenting him.
Hopefully.
Pyro walks the university grounds, eyes carefully tracking each person that passes them by. His mittened hands clench around the strap of his messenger bag, flexing nervously around the brown leather.
He's able to make it off the grounds without incident, and the walk back to his small apartment is nice enough. One of the nice things about living in such a busy city was being able to fade into the background. No one paid anyone else attention, so Pyro didn't have to worry quite as much for how he was being perceived.
Pyro steps into their apartment building, shoulders relaxing as the warm air inside chases away the chill from outside. They take the stairs up to their floor, fumbling with their bag as they search for their key. Pyro slumps against the wall as soon as they make it inside, shutting the door behind them with a click.
Another successful trip back and forth to his classes.
They lean down, unlacing their boots and slipping them off. They hang up their coat, scarf, and bag before beelining to the futon in the corner of the room. Pyro doesn't waste time, falling back onto the cushions, pulling a blanket with them.
He curls up under the knitted fabric, leaning back against the futon. He doesn’t have classes tomorrow, so he ignores the anxiety swirling inside his chest. It would be fine.
Probably.
–
Everything was definitely not fine.
That was all Pyro could think as he ran, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away from Clinton and his group.
Pyro hadn't even been near the university! What were the chances he would run into them in the wild? Pyro hadn't thought the chances were high enough to allow his worries to stop him from going out. He, clearly, was very wrong in that assumption.
“Get back here!”
Pyro could hear their voices calling for him from a distance. Why were they chasing him? That was insane behavior. Did they really want to hurt him that badly?
Pyro doesn't stop to ponder, turning sharply down the street, apologizing to the people behind him as he races by.
The voices get louder, and in a panic, Pyro darts inside the closest building, pressing against the wall. They're bent over, breaths coming out in fast puffs as they try to calm their racing heart.
“Are you alright?”
Pyro flinches at the sound of a voice above him, straightening up quickly. The tension in his body loosens as he sees an unfamiliar man in front of him, a name tag pinned to his shirt under a leather jacket.
The man blinks at him, his dark red eyes widening almost comically as he stares openly at Pyro's face. Pyro shifts uncomfortably at the attention. He hides his face into his scarf, glancing around at the shelves of books around the quaint building.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to cause a scene,” he looks down again at the man's name tag. “Scott. I'm sorry.”
The man looks bewildered, a sort of raw expression there that is gone before Pyro can analyze it.
“Right.” The man says, the word dragging out with his accent. “It's fine, I guess.”
Pyro shifts awkwardly, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “Um. I'm, I'm just going to go get a book.”
A small smile pulls at Scott's lips. The look he sends Pyro's way is knowing in a way that makes their blush deepen. “Right. You do that.”
Pyro nods, fast walking over the shelves in a way they hope doesn't seem like running away. They hide behind one of the large bookshelves, peeking over at Scott as the man makes his way behind a small counter at the front of the library.
He shakes his head, creeping around the library for as long enough as he could justify staying, and that Clinton's group would be long gone.
Scott watches them closely as they leave the library. Pyro can feel his eyes on them, his stare prickling at the back of their neck. They leave quickly, the intensity emanating from the man behind the counter unnerving them.
Luckily enough, the library isn't a far walk from their apartment, so Pyro is able to get back home quickly enough. Their heart beats furiously in their chest, an odd feeling creeping over them as they enter their lonely apartment.
The next day of classes would be hell.
Pyro almost wishes he could call in sick, but with it being so close to finals, he doesn't want to risk it.
He runs a hand over his face, breathing in shakily as he slides down the door to the chilly wood floor.
Oh well.
Nothing Pyro could do now but wait for the inevitable.
Shit.