I'm Not That Mad

6

The forest seemed almost never-ending around them. There were all sorts of signs that hung on the trees, but none of them seemed to be helpful in any way. It was confusing, and it made no sense, but it was home to them. Ozzy's family lived in those woods, in a cottage tucked away from any possible path that could be stumbled upon. 

Right now, though, The Cheshire Cat laid back against the branch below him. His son, no older than 6, laid on top of him, the boy's head resting on his father's chest as he fiddled with a doll. Cheshire ran his hand through his son's hair in an attempt to fix it against his head. It was a pointless attempt, all the boy did was shoo his hand away, and his hair didn't cooperate in the first place. 

The silence of the forest was a comfort to them, but especially so to the boy's father. The silence meant that they were safe. That the queen's guard was nowhere near his family. He wouldn't have to worry about them.

"Papa, I'm tired," The boy said, vanishing from his father's chest and reappearing on another branch close by, "Let's go home."

"You're always tired, Ozias," The Cheshire sighed, sitting up to face his son, "You just woke up from a nap."

"I'm tired again," Ozzy responded simply with a shrug, "And it's cold out here."

"It's 85 degrees," He said, scooping his son up in his arms and getting them out of the tree, "Though I'm sure you'll find a way to complain about that too, hm?"

The boy nodded happily, resting his head against his father's shoulder.

"Momma says I get it from you," Ozzy said simply, a grin on his face.

His father rolled his eyes, beginning the walk back to their home.

"Did she now?" He asked, petting the child's head gently.

Ozzy nodded, already looking tired enough to begin to doze off. 

A gentle shaking woke Ozzy up from his sleep. He wasn't quite sure when he had fallen asleep, and he certainly wasn't entirely sure when he had found his way back to his dorm. Ozzy looked around through lidded eyes as he sat up. He rubbed the sleep away from his eyes as he was finally able to focus on the person in front of him.

Aziz was standing at the foot of the bed, not looking entirely amused by his presence

"Aziz?" He asked, blinking up at him, "What are you doing here?"

He had most likely just wrapped up tourney practice, his hair still a bit damp from what Ozzy assumed to be the locker room showers. It was pulled away from his face in a simple ponytail. Though, simple as it was, it seemed to just add to his beauty. There was a jacket tied around his waist, though why he had it in the first place was a mystery. It was way too hot for one.

"What am I doing here?" Aziz asked, raising an eyebrow, "Ozzy, you're the one in my bed."

Ozzy tilted his head, looking down at the bed below him and the room around.

"Oh," He said, clicking his tongue, "Sorry about that."

"Is something wrong, Ozzy?" Aziz asked, sitting next to him on the bed, "You look exhausted."

"I always look like that," Ozzy said, shrugging.

"Carroll said you've been skipping your classes," He said, "Ozzy you're failing, you can't afford to be skipping any other classes."

"I know, I know," Ozzy sighed, "I'm just really tired today."

"Well, feel free to go back to sleep," He said, standing up from his spot on the bed and going back to the homework strewn about his desk, "But when Xavier gets back and starts questioning things I'm blaming evrything on you."