gift giving

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Icyhot waiting outside my room in the morning has become routine at this point. However, this time he's sitting on the floor. Eyes glued to his phone, he doesn't even notice I'm standing there until I clear my throat.

He looks up abruptly. "Oh, sorry." In less than a second, he's already back on his feet.

"What were you doing?"

Icyhot glances back at his phone. "I had a photoshoot a couple weeks ago and the photographer sent me one of the pictures. I can't decide if I like it or not. What do you think?"

He shoves his phone in my hand before I have time to object. Using my index and middle fingers, I zoom in on the image. It's a black and white picture taken from the side, highlighting Icyhot's profile. He's grabbing the back of his neck and staring ahead.

Here's the thing about Icyhot: he's not a shy person. Awkward, yes, and in turn that results in him sometimes staying quiet because he doesn't understand certain situations, but he's not shy. He'll talk to anyone who talks to him, often with his own weird brand of confidence.

But in this picture, he looks timid, like he doesn't believe in the pose that he's doing. The photographer probably told him to stand like that. For what it's worth, the lighting and everything is great, but Icyhot looks so out of place, so all of it just looks fake to me.

It's a shame, because if the bastard knew how to pose naturally, he may have actually looked handsome for a change.

I want to tell him he looks stupid. And I really want to tell him that having all these modeling shoots to boost his confidence is beyond fucking stupid. How can this shit build his confidence when these photographers do everything they can to make the bastard look like a completely different person? He's basically getting paid for people to tell him the way he is just isn't good enough.

Oh well, not my problem.

"Well?" Icyhot says.

"Well what?"

"Do you like it?"

"I like it more than getting a root canal, but that's about it."

He frowns, and for some reason I actually feel bad about it. And then I remember the reason why he's outside my room in the first place, and all my guilt vanishes.

"Anyway," I say, "let's get this over with."

We do our little homework transfer, which appears to lift some of Icyhot's spirits. Not that I care either way. It's just an observation.

"Right," he says as we approach the elevator. "I guess I should tell you what your task is today."

"Um, yeah. You should, bastard." When the elevator opens, I walk toward the back and lean against the wall. "So what is it?"

"I want a present."

My brain's still processing his stupid ass remark when we reach the main floor. Our eyes stay locked on one another as we exit the elevator. Icyhot appears to be waiting for some sort of reaction from me, but he can't say something so ludicrous and expect me to respond right away.

"Huh?" I finally say.

He blinks twice. "I want a present. From you."

I scrunch my face. "And this is supposed to be easier than what you had me do yesterday?"

"Isn't it?"

"OF COURSE NOT!"

Our walk reaches a halt as the two of us stand on the outer edge of the common room. Icyhot tilts his head to one side, looking dense as fuck.

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