Under Seven Minutes // Private RP

Violeta was barely awake that morning, drifting through a haze of abstracted thoughts. She wasn't upset, no, wasn't numb or depressed, just woozy and drunk from an overload of creative inspiration. Most of the night had been spent painting with earbuds in and music turned up to full volume, occasionally pausing to compose a melody according to the colours on each canvas. She was happy now, if exhausted, but what she saw projected on the board in class completely killed her mood.

Grayson.

Instantly, she was awake.

“What you’re going to do is select an environment-based problem and create a presentation on it,” the teacher continued. “Explain why this is a problem. Explain its history, and then suggest the solution, or an alternative to that problem. You have about a month, and I’ll give you fifteen minutes every day of class to get started on it. For now, get into your pairs and begin planning.”

Violeta released a quiet groan, folding her arms on the tabletop and sinking down until her face was buried in them. I'm just going to stay here…. she thought loopily, though dread pooled in her stomach. If he wants to work with me, he's going to have to come here. Because I'm not moving until he does.

Gray eyed Violeta as she slumped in her seat. He sighed heavily before he stood up, grabbing his bag and his phone before walking over to her seat and setting his bag on the desk next to her. He took his seat, but otherwise remained silent.

When Violeta heard a muffled thump and the familiar screech of a chair being pushed back, she didn't lift her head. "Gray?" she mumbled sleepily, accidentally calling him by his nickname. "S'that you?"

Gray’s heart somersaulted when she called his name. Especially the way she said it.

“Yeah,” he answered, looking down at her. “It’s me. You okay?”

"M'tired…." she muttered, shifting slightly in her seat. "N' this project is stupid. And I'm hungry but I don't want to eat…. I just want to sleep and paint… or something…" Evidently, the lack of sleep had made her loose-lipped, or else she wouldn't be telling him all this.

Gray chuckled, leaning back against his chair.

“Is that so?” He mused. “I agree, though. This is a ridiculous project. Question—why don’t you want to eat?”

(wait a minute, my loopy brain messed up sorry. she doesn't have glasses, I'll edit one sec)

(edited)

Violeta gave a slight shrug, finally lifting her head from its position. "Would you care if I slept right now?" she asked, her words jumping together as she flattened down her messy hair. Her eyes, which were underlined by dark circles, blinked dazedly, trying to focus on their surroundings, and her lips were parted slightly. No mascara or lip gloss adorned her face, for once, but overall… her appearance was cute. Worrisome, but cute.

Gray stared at her, unblinking, still as a rock.

Shit. Goddamn it. She looked absolutely beautiful, her eyes half-shut from sleep, her lips parted slightly. For the first time, Gray saw those lips and her eyes without any makeup. He found his face turning pink before he covered his mouth, looking away. Not good. Not good at all.

“Ye—yeah,” he cleared his throat. “I mean, go ahead. I don’t mind.”

Violeta gave him a funny look, baffled by his actions. If she had seen them through clear eyes unblurred from her lack of sleep, she might have been frustrated or anxious. But, luckily for him, her vision only cleared once she glanced down at her hands, only to see them flecked and splattered with dried paint. "Whoops…"

Gray looked back at her, noticing her hands. A smile made its way towards his lips.

“You should wash them,” he said, though he knew she would on her own. Was he actually holding a conversation with her without either of them (Violeta) losing their tempers? “And then you can take a nap.”

"Eh, I'll be fine…." Violeta murmured, squinting closely at a splatter of red paint that looked oddly similar to blood. Had she accidentally cut herself while slicing up her canvas paper?

“All right,” Gray hummed in agreement. She looked so damn adorable when she was sleepy, Gray decided. He could never get enough of this. “I suppose I should say ‘goodnight’?”

After deciding that the red splatter was, in fact, paint and not dried blood, Violeta nodded. Not noticing when her loose blouse slipped slightly down one shoulder, she mumbled a thank-you and sank back down against the table. Slowly, she drifted off, gratefully accepting the snug embrace of sleep, but, finding the hard surface too uncomfortable, she subconsciously leaned to the side….. and against Gray.

Gray stiffened immediately when he felt something against his shoulder. He slowly looked to his side, finding Violeta leaning against his shoulder, eyes closed and mouth shut. His own mouth suddenly felt too dry. Violeta was sleeping on him. She was sleeping on him.

He didn’t dare move even an inch. So he stayed in that same position, glaring at anyone who so much as made a sound. She needed sleep, so she’d get some.

Violeta didn't quite know what was happening in her barely-awake, mostly-asleep state, but she did know that she was comfortable. And whoever she was leaning against was soft. And warm. And smelled really nice.

Gray bit down on his lip, trying to calm his heart. Everything else just began to disappear until the only thing Gray was aware of was Violeta and her head on his shoulder.

Which was not good. His reaction was not good at all.

Minutes (hours? She didn't know) passed, and eventually, Violeta stirred. It took a while, but she awoke fully, coming to her senses before looking around. The first thing she noticed was her hand, which was hanging down her side and brushing up against another person's. The second was the fact that Gray was right next to her. The third? She was leaning against him.

Violeta slept against him for about thirty minutes. Halfway through, her arm slid off and brushed against his own, and it took everything out of him to not link their fingers together.

Finally, the girl stirred. Gray held his breath, waiting for what was about to come.

Violeta straightened abruptly, eyes round and disbelieving as they found Gray's. How long had she spent like this, in such a place? Sleeping in front of him in such a vulnerable position? "I'm sorry—" she breathed, horrified at both herself and the prospect of what he might do to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

Gray shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay,” he replied. “You were just sleepy. I’m not upset or irritated.”

If I was, I would have pushed you off.

No. Stop lying to me. I'm not going to lower my guard again.

She pressed her lips into a hard line and looked away, clearly distrusting of his statement. "Why didn't you push me off?"

“You were tired,” Gray responded, finally moving to stretch, raising his arms above him. “Like I said, I didn’t mind.”

Couldn’t you have slept for a little while longer?

Violeta tore her eyes, which had flickered briefly to the stretch of bare skin above his waist line visible when he stretched, away from the young man in front of her. Abruptly, she stood, swinging her bag over one shoulder. "I have to go."

Gray quirked an eyebrow at her.

“We still have fifteen minutes left of class,” he reminded her, disappointed that she was leaving. He missed her warmth.

She just shook her head, clearly desperate to get away. "I–I have to—" Get away from you. "Run an errand. That I forgot to do."

Her mind was still struggling to piece together a vague recollection of the steps leading up to her fatal mistake—something about paint?

“You’ll be marked tardy,” Gray crossed his arms over his chest. “Is this errand worth getting one?”