Just Stay

Just Stay

Mika Fox

Chapter 1

Safe house

Focus, Seb. This really isn't that hard.

It really isn't. But all the noise from outside Sebastian's window is making it impossible to concentrate. He sighs heavily, frustrated as he sits by the desk in his cluttered dorm room.

He doesn't mind college, he really doesn't. He actually rather
likes
the studying, the lectures and the assignments. He has always been rather brainy, and he loves learning new things. The
other
part of college life, though, the parties, the noise, the obnoxiously loud students who never actually seem to study at all... Those things, he can do without.

Sadly, though, he doesn't have much of a choice than to simply put up with all of it. His dorm is smack in the middle of a particularly rowdy part of campus, and right now, just weeks before some major exams, everyone seems to have chosen to simply deny the whole thing. That is, denying the fact that they actually have work to do, and instead throwing all that out the window and party, instead. It makes Seb sigh irritably, in his solitude. The one upside of it all is that he doesn't have a roommate, so when he's here in his room, he is generally never directly disturbed.

He stares down at the book in front of him. Normally, he's not really the best at math; he's maybe a bit above average, at best, and he's only taking this course for some extra credit. Literature is his thing, writing and creating, poetry and novels. But still, he has never been so bad with math that all the numbers seem to flow together and glare at him mockingly from the pages, like they're doing right now.

Seb glances at the clock on his wall; it's just past one a.m. No wonder he isn't getting anything done.

He sighs heavily and gets up from his desk, abandoning the notes and books and numbers. Instead, he makes his way over to the window, which is just slightly open. He peers down from his third floor room, at all the people running around on the lawn and in and out of the dormitory buildings. He figures he could just close the window; that would drown out at least
some
of the noise. But it's just so hot outside, unusually hot, and his room has no air conditioning besides an old fan, sitting on his bedside table. It's currently turned on and buzzing away, but not accomplishing much else than simply moving around and directing the already warm air, rather than cooling it down.

Seb is already stripped down to a pair of worn jeans and an old t-shirt, his feet bare and his short, dark brown hair messed up and ruffled from all the times he has pulled his fingers through it in the last few hours, either from frustration, fatigue or heat exhaustion. Closing the window would make it slightly worse. But at least he might be able to get some peace and quiet.

As soon as he closes the window, Seb realizes how little difference it actually makes, but it's worth it. He can't wait for everyone to just shut up and stop keeping him up all night. It's in the middle of the week, for god's sake!

His dorm room is small, but it does have its own bathroom, and he goes into it to splash some water on his face. It helps a bit, clearing his head for a moment, and it leaves part of his hair dripping water onto his face. His hair isn't exactly too long, just long enough to make it look pretty messy all the time, kind of like he has just gotten out of bed.

He just leaves it, though, and doesn't dry off. It's actually cool and nice, and he closes his eyes, leaning with his hands against the sink, exhaling slowly. It's amazing how tired he feels.

It's the sudden sound of someone banging on the door that makes him snap his eyes open again, startled.

"Jake!" a voice calls from out in the hallway, and Seb flicks his gaze to the closed door, his eyes narrowed and a frown on his face. "Come on, man, open up!"

Seb hesitates, hoping the guy outside will just realize that he has the wrong room, and leave, but he just keeps at it.

"Jake," he calls, drawing out the one syllable in a sing-song voice, his banging on the door changing into rhythmic knocking instead. It's almost like he's drumming on the surface with his knuckles. "Come on. If you don't open up, I'm just gonna stand here all night. You know I will!"

Seb sighs in exasperation as the guy keeps knocking. So he
isn't
going to leave anytime soon. Seb might as well let him know that Jake doesn't live here, whoever the hell that is.

The knocking keeps going even as Seb unlocks the door and pulls it open, leaving the guy outside standing with his hands practically frozen in mid-air, before dropping them. He flashes a cocky, slightly triumphant smile.

"Hey, bro―" he says, before cutting off. His smile falters and he just looks at Seb for a few moments, his expression changing into one of almost amusing suspicion. His eyes narrow as he pulls back to scrutinize the guy in front of him, who clearly isn't Jake. Then, finally, he points at Seb.

"You're not Jake," he says, and Seb raises one eyebrow.

"No shit," he says. "I just thought I'd let you know that, so you'd stop breaking down my door."

The guy nods slowly, as though letting this new information sink in, and Seb realizes that he is rather drunk. Or
very
drunk, actually.

"You wouldn't happen to know where my little brother
is
, would you?" he asks, and Seb frowns at him incredulously.

"Dude, I don't even know
who
your brother is," he says, a slightly annoyed edge to his voice. "Go bang on someone else's door, you'll find him eventually."

"I
should
do that," the guy says, cocking his eyebrows and nodding, as though Seb just proved a most excellent point. "I need someplace to hide. He usually helps me out."

At these words, he looks around him, up and down the currently abandoned corridor. He furrows his brow in confusion, and Seb follows his line of sight. Well, he supposes that all these identical doors
would
be confusing to someone who is completely plastered.

The guy sighs heavily and turns back to Seb.

"Alright," he says, slurring slightly. "Well, thanks, I'll just―"

He whips his head to the left at the sudden sound of approaching footsteps, his eyes actually widening the slightest bit. Then he turns back to Seb.

"Dude, let me hide in here," he says, his words rushed, and Seb gives him the best
are you fucking kidding me
-look he can muster.

"Dude, no!" he says, but the guy doesn't relent.

"Please," he says, his expression actually pleading. "Just for a few minutes, I swear."

"You can't just―"

"Awesome, thanks."

Seb definitely isn't skinny (he has always preferred the term
wiry
), but he is still whisked aside with astounding ease by the larger, well-built guy who simply just slips in through the door and into his room. Seb barely has time to make a shocked, disbelieving face, before the other guy snaps him out of it.

"Close the door, man!" he says, his voice hushed, and Seb does as he's told, in lack of anything else. He locks the door out of habit, and just seconds later hears the distinct sound of high heels on the floor of the hallway outside. The steps sound rushed, not really angry, tapping loudly, and Seb hears a frustrated sigh from outside his door. Then the steps fade away again, making their way down the hall and off this floor.

Silence lingers for a few seconds―not counting the muffled noise from outside his window―before Seb turns around at the sound of the other guy sighing with relief.

"Whoa," he says with a chuckle, and Seb just looks at him. He's standing in the middle of the cluttered, dimly lit room, intoxicated relief and light-heartedness all over his face. "That was a close one."

Seb frowns, just utterly confused.

"What the hell was that?" he asks, and the other guy just raises his eyebrows innocently.

"Hm?" he says, and Seb actually rolls his eyes.

"Why did you have to hide from
that
?" he says, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder, referring to the high-heeled girl that just left, and the guy makes a sheepish face.

"Yeah," he says. "I may have hooked up with her a couple of times. And then I may have hooked up with her friend tonight. Not a good idea."

Seb raises his eyebrows in a bored expression.

"So, you're basically hiding from a girl, because you're an asshole?" he says, and the other guy cocks his head slightly, as though deliberating whether or not that is an accurate description.

"More or less," he finally says, shrugging, with a drunk smile on his face. He seems so carefree. Seb can't help but wonder if he's always like that or if it's just when he's drunk.

"Yeah, whatever," he says with sigh. He really doesn't have time for this. "You should go."

The guy looks honestly surprised.

"Dude, come on," he says, throwing his hands up in an almost pleading gesture. "Just give me five minutes. She might not be gone yet."

Seb deliberates for a few seconds, before sighing.

"Fine," he says. "Five minutes."

"Awesome," the guy says, looking pleased. Then he hesitates for a second or so, before stepping forward and holding out his hand. "I'm Evan, by the way. Evan Matthews"

Seb glances down at the extended hand, before taking it.

"Sebastian," he says slowly, as they shake hands, before looking up at Evan's face.

"Sebastian," Evan says. Seb's name slowly rolls off his tongue as though he's sampling it, an almost intrigued expression on his face, and for just a split second, Seb feels weirdly exposed. "Good name."

Seb blinks. He hasn't heard that one before, but he makes nothing of it. Instead, he just shrugs lamely.

"Most people just call me Seb," he says, and Evan nods.

"Seb," he says. "I can work with that."

Seb frowns at that, but Evan just smiles. Even in the dim light, Seb can see the way just a simple smile seems to light up his face, how his eyes are a pleasant green, his short, light brown hair messy and ruffled. He's good-looking, no doubt about that. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why he has to literally hide from girls who want him.

"You don't happen to have any beer, do you?" Evan asks, and Seb blinks.

"Beer?" he asks dumbly. Truth be told, he doesn't really drink much, so beer isn't something he generally has around. "Sorry, no."

He releases Evan's hand, realizing that they still haven't let go of each other, and Evan looks at his own hand with an amused
well, what do you know
-look that only ever seems to show up on drunk people's faces.

"But I've got water," Seb adds, a note of sarcasm in his voice, and Evan chuckles.

"Water's good," he says. "I'll have some of that."

Seb feels a stab of surprise, but doesn't mention it.

"Coming right up," he mutters instead, making his way over to the bathroom. He does have some glasses and cups lying around, and he doesn't think Evan will notice or mind if he just picks a random one. So he ends up choosing the blue TARDIS mug he got for his birthday a few years ago.

"Nice place," he hears Evan say, and he looks over his shoulder. Evan is wandering around the small room, examining the trinkets and books and discarded clothes that litter the floor, the desk chair, the bed and―well, pretty much everything.

"Thanks," Seb says, a bit awkwardly. He's not used to having visitors, and especially not drunk visitors he has never even met before, who are only there simply because they barged in through the door in the middle of the night.

Seb rinses out the mug before filling it up with cold water, and flicks off the light switch in the bathroom on his way out. Evan is standing with his back to him, apparently looking at the black poster on the wall above his bed. It has a long passage of text all over it, and as Seb slides up beside Evan, he notices how the guy is mouthing something. He wonders if he's actually reading the poster or just mumbling to himself.

"Here you go," he says, handing over the mug, but Evan doesn't take it right away.

"
And the raven, never flitting...
" he mumbles, before exhaling slowly. Then he takes the mug held out to him and looks up at Seb, only to be met by a pair of wide open, incredulous blue eyes. Evan chuckles self-consciously.

"
The Raven
," he explains, gesturing toward the poster, and Seb just blinks.

"You know Poe?" he asks dumbly, as Evan takes a sip of water. The poster on Seb's wall has the entire poem written all over it, but people generally don't really notice it, let alone read it.

"You kidding?" Evan exclaims, his eyes slightly glazed with intoxication. "Buried alive, cutting out hearts, freaky-ass cats and shit... Son of a bitch's crazy."

Seb processes that for a moment, before deciding that that is a pretty good description of Edgar Allan Poe, and he cocks his head.

"Fair enough," he says, as Evan looks around for a place to sit. Seb quickly bends down and shoves some discarded clothes out of the way, and Evan sits down on the edge of the bed, with a tired sigh.