𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 ━ shawn hunter¹

9│SIXTEEN CANDLES AND FOUR-HUNDRED POUND MEN

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❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ sɪxᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴀɴᴅʟᴇs &
ғᴏᴜʀ-ʜᴜɴᴅʀᴇᴅ-ᴘᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍᴇɴ ꒱


❝ IT'S NOT TIME FOR US YET ❞

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"'And in the night, he searches. And in the day, he searches. And on the morrow he will search. Close, reaching, yet it will not be found and he knows that,'" Cory read from the book he was holding as he stood at the front of the class.

Juliet's chin was settled comfortably on Shawn's legs as he stretched out across their desks to sleep. Her arms were folded on top of her desk behind the barrier of his body as she listened to Mr. Turner critique her friend's work. "Nice passion, Matthews. Very nice." He approached the pair and nudged the sleeping boy. "Hey, Hunter. Hey, how were you affected by that reading?"

"I don't wanna go to school, daddy," he mumbled. "Cory's reading poetry."

A fond smile curved on the redhead's lips as their teacher sighed. "You get your butt out of that bed and get to class!"

Reluctantly, she sat up to allow him to stand, still half-asleep. "Okay, okay," he complained, stumbling out of the room.

"Gee, I wonder what's gonna happen."

Juliet rose slightly. "I'm gonna go after—"

"You stay in that chair young lady," he told her sternly, and ignored the disappointed look on her face as she did so. In front of her, Frankie raised his hand. "Frankie, do it, buddy."

"What the poet is saying in this beautiful piece which was movingly read, might I add," he started.

Cory saluted him. "Hey."

"Is that sometimes we love and though it seems the object of our love is within reach, it does not reciprocate and we must keep reaching."

"It's not about a doggy?" Cory asked, confused.

Topanga turned to her boyfriend and placed her finger against his lips. "Shh, honey, don't speak."

"Outstanding, Stecchino, outstanding. Anything else?"

"Yes, thank you," the boy replied before the bell rang.

As the students filed out of the classroom, Cory approached Frankie. "Frankie, why do you seem so sad?"

"I'm afraid that the poem you so eloquently read—"

"Hey," Cory acknowledged again.

"—about someone who reaches out for an unattainable love hits a little too closely to home."

"Why, Francis Albert Stecchino, have you been struck by Cupid's arrow?" the curly-haired boy teased him before he turned to the redhead with amusement. "It looks like you aren't alone, Jules."

She glared at him. "Shut up, Cor."

Frankie seemed not to have heard their exchange. "Alas, there are deep and turbulent waters in my soul."

Shawn reentered the classroom. "I don't know where I am."

Juliet gave him a fond look and slung her backpack over her shoulder. She stepped away from her desk and towards him, gently grasping his wrist to lead him further into the classroom. "Shhh, Shawnie. Sit and have a nap," she instructed him, guiding the boy over to where Cory was standing.