#crow's queue

It did, however, leave unsightly ink blots on the yellowed paper.

Well, students were encouraged to leave notes in the books they took out anyway.

Even the bustle in the little café was nothing more than a buzz at the back of his mind. Most days, Zandik merely went in for a coffee to bring with him, the atmosphere too stifling. Today had been different in that regard and he'd felt compelled to have a seat.

Another point of difference from usual was how the coffee tasted despite multiple reassurances from the waitress that it was the same blend as always.

Swallowing sand would've been preferable to the bitter substance currently swirling in his cup. At least it would reinvigorate him all the same. No matter how he'd rubbed at his brow and massaged his temples a foul headache had accompanied him for days like some ancient curse. Once more, he attempted to focus on the letters, finding that they still danced before his eyes.

A voice cut through the background, his name stunning him like a flash of electro.

Had it been possible, Zandik would've turned into a hydro slime and disappeared through the cracks of the wooden bench. He settled for sliding down in his seat and trying to blend in with the colorful pillows.

It should have been obvious how little he wanted to be disturbed, yet your smile remained as you loomed above him. "I thought you hated sitting here?" You beamed at him and he almost felt like squinting his eyes.

Zandik grunted out a confirmation, waving your face away as he sat back up straight. Maybe this was a sign from above that he should be packing up and going home for the day. Getting anything done felt even more impossible now that you were there.

"I do but-" Zandik hissed, heat spreading across his face as you so shamelessly nudged him aside to make room for yourself.

Before his head could hit the table in frustration, you'd pulled his book out from beneath him. "Oh, King Deshret? Working on an assignment?"

"Sure."

"You don't sound too excited about-"

"Do you think I'd be torturing myself by staying here if I had enjoyable studies to submerge myself in?" He'd snapped at you, lifted his head just enough to see you blink those stupidly bright eyes at him.

It felt like people were staring. The room had become a vacuum, devoid of any sound and impossible to breathe in.

A cup was placed before you and the tension broke. Chatter rolled like a wave until the usual sounds of the cafe had returned. The waitress winked at you as she set down a plate as well.

Zandik was grateful for the distraction, less so for the sweet scent now making it decisively impossible for him to focus on anything other than the fact that he'd skipped both breakfast and lunch.

There were two pieces of pastry. Two pieces of baklava. There was no way you were planning to eat that by yourself.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

No way, right?

It was your chuckle that made him look away from the flaky piece of heaven. You looked like a misbehaving child who'd gotten away with their mischief.

"You're lucky I ordered before sitting down."

Zandik's breath hitched when you lifted a piece and held it out towards him. Maybe the day could still end on a positive note. A bite of sugar to replenish his energy and his mind would surely shake off this unpleasant sense of wrongness.

Iron and sugar melted on his tongue, flooding his senses to have his eyes roll back in bliss. A moan struggled to part from his syrupy lips as skin and sinew tore beneath his teeth.

Then your cry pierced the serenity, forcing him back to fingers clawing at his jaw. The reality of two discarded pastries on the ground kicked in. Crimson stained the pillow between you. There wasn't even a bite taken out of the pastry you'd offered him. Had he really just-?

Your bloody hand was swiftly freed as his scattered thoughts attempted to order themselves, pulling a blanket into his lap while you tore your hand from his teeth. A choked sob escaped your lips. It looked bad, your hand, like some of the bites Zandik had seen Amurta students who'd been careless around wildlife with.

He'd wanted to taste you for long, but surely not like this? It should feel foul, the way blood not only dripped from your wounds but rushed between his legs as well. His pulse thrummed in his ears, everything else drowned out as he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Could he prolong the taste somehow?

How did you taste so sweet?

Zandik shuffled away, knocking over his cup in a frantic search for a napkin. This time people were staring. Everyone was staring. They'd think he'd done it. He had.

But he hadn't done it intentionally.

And how would that hold up if questioned?

Taste momentarily pushed to the back of his mind, Zandik threw the few napkins he'd found into your lap and promptly clasped a hand over your mouth to stop your whines. He tried to offer an apologetic smile to those he locked eyes with but their whispers and skeptical gazes remained.

Their voices were too loud, too close. Zandik knew what they were saying, calling him a monster, a freak. Getting ready to throw him out or beat him to death.

Zandik blinked.

That couldn't be right. He shouldn't be able to hear them. His ribs hurt as he took a shaky breath. Should he comfort you? You looked like a wounded animal, wiping blood from your hand while a waitress - when had she shown up? - cooed at you.

No, he should go home and sleep. Yes, that infernal headache was the cause of this. His mind hadn't worked properly and he'd misjudged the distance to the pastry you'd held towards him. Sleep would fix him.

When had your days turned into this? Despite your exhaustion, having sat through six consecutive hours of lectures, followed by independent studying in the House of Daena, it was impossible for your mind to grant itself even one shred of rest. It had always been this way, taking hours to finally slip into peaceful slumber and requiring next to nothing to rouse you again.

"Not what I meant," you huffed, scratching the patchy stubble just beneath his chin, a spot Zandik always seemed to miss when shaving, "I wanted to know if you believe e-"

"Everyone has a constellation, yes." If it wouldn't get you thrown out, you might just have strangled him. If nothing else to wipe the toothy grin from his face. Your chest felt unfairly tight at the sight.

A soft breeze had the canopies just outside the window rustling gently, the sound filling otherwise comfortable silence. And more importantly, masking the annoyed sigh that left your lips before you attempted to continue, "even if-"

"Even if they never have an astronomer point it out, yes. Just like a tree falling will always make a sound, even if no one is around to hear it." Zandik interrupted again, his carmine eyes devouring the pale starlight.

"You're an ass, Zandik."

"I believe my poor mood surrounding the topic is quite justified. How come questions about the stars and sky from you are nothing but 'childish folly' but the moment I ask a question, suddenly there are threats of expulsion involved. So much for academic freedom."

"That's because I don't act like a madman while posing them. You always look like you're three seconds from declaring you want to fistfight an archon." You both knew that was a truth with modifications, the real issue being how he tiptoed the line of blasphemy.

Once more, Zandik adjusted his grip around your waist, muttering a few additional complaints under his breath. "Still not feeling tired?"

With the grace of a charging sumpter beast, you ignored the question, knowing he already had an answer anyway. Your eyes had been drooping for half an hour, but every time they'd stayed shut, the urge to sleep had vanished completely.

"Don't interrupt this time. To me, it doesn't look like there'd be enough stars in the sky for everyone to have entirely separate constellations. I said don't interrupt, Zandik!" His barely audible snicker only made you roll your eyes, "What if you share stars with the people you'll grow closest to in your life?"

"Some sort of divinely appointed friend? Utterly ridiculous."

"Oh come on, isn't it a reassuring thought? -wait a moment, friend?!" Your attempts to struggle away were easily stopped by his firm grip, expending little enough energy that his slender fingers were still soothingly rubbing along your back.

"Reassuring? Being forced by divinity is your definition of reassurance? In that case, we certainly aren't meant for each other." Cracked lips brushed against your forehead before he continued, "it was never specified that you were referring to our situation."

The kiss and subsequent nuzzle of his crooked nose into your hair, your face pressed to his chest and able to breath nothing but his oaky scent, hardly able to hear anything but the steady beat of his heart, had an odd calm settling in your bones.

"Was that all you needed to hear to quell your anxieties? That I consider us far more entangled than any 'shared fate' could dictate?"

You wanted to argue, to say it was a ridiculous proposition. But it had made you feel warm inside, and it was difficult to focus on the nagging voices in the back of your head when the sound of Zandik's gentle kisses echoed in your mind instead.