Before Us [Wriolette]

Chapter 4: Coward

Was Wriothesley avoiding Mr. Neuvillette?

No.

Ok, fine. He is.

But who's to blame him? Not only did his teacher watch him get dumped first hand, he also ran into him again in the door frame! 

He may have been a little dramatic.

Walking to his class, he was bombarded by the usual amount of peers asking him questions. However, today they seemed more interested in his unusual gloomy aura. Most of the time, they would ask questions along the lines of: "How much did that coat cost?" or "What brand of hair dye did you use for your gray highlights?" You would think that looking intimidating would cause people to avoid you, but they really could not get enough of wanting Wriothesley's attention. After multiple minutes of avoiding questions and escaping the crowd, he made it to the place he had been dreading for an hour. Law class.

Once he took the handout from Professor Neuvillette, he shuffled his way to his seat, got out his books and proceeded to slide as far down in his chair as it would permit him to. Having arrived just on time, the seats at the very back had mostly been taken, and the second-best option was the 3rd row. Wriothesley dreaded this abundantly, as he was in relatively clear line of sight to his professor. He sunk lower in his chair as he saw Mr. Neuvillette stride to the front of the room. Clearing his throat, the professor stated, "I do hope you read the assigned chapters, because we will be starting a new project next class in relation to it," seeing the look of disdain on his student's faces, he directed their attention to the current day's engagement, "However," he started, "Today we will analyse the context and history of the Habeas Corpus." Smart move, you don't want to deal with sleep deprived law students complaining all class. He would know.

Two hours of questioning, teaching and two students who "forgot" their books at home later, class had ended. Quite the success in Wriothesley's opinion. He had only gotten called on once, and narrowly avoided it a second time. Mr. Neuvillette had asked a question, one that Wriothesley had not heard as he was distracted by the small drawing on the bottom corner of the white board. Unexpectedly, Prof. Neuvillette had called his name, and if it wasn't for the Professor's computer projector acting up just before the end of class, he may have been in deep sh*t. The end of class was always the wildest. Yelling and pushing at the doorway was not what Wriothesley needed right now. Weaseling his way through the dense crowd of students, he slipped out the door and booked it down the hallway. As he was racing towards the exit, he patted down the side pockets of his backpack. 'sh**********t,' an accurate way to describe his situation. His favorite pen, given to him by one of his brothers at a young age, had found it's way onto, if he had to guess, his desk. Wriothesley's steps came to a screeching halt.  Turning himself around and jostling his way through the crowd he had just escaped, he dreaded a confrontation with his Professor. "If I'm lucky," he thought, "he may have already left," this thought gave Wriothesley no hope, yet he had no choice. 

Settling down the documents Furina had gifted him, Neuvillette examined the title. 

Criminal Investigations on Campus

Please take note, if you see anyone under this list involved in suspicious activity, do not engage. These individuals are professional policemen who have been instructed to investigate undercover. You may recognize some as students.

- Cecile

- Chevereuse

- Chloe

- ...

The list continues in alphabetical order, and Neuvillette skims most of it. That is until one name catches his eye.

- Wriothesley

 This man had never seemed anything extraordinary and Neuvillette had never seen him act in ways that would raise suspicion. Wriothesley sure was excellent at his job, in that case. The list ended there, but the report continued below:

The recent overdose in the East Courtyard is a suspected assassination of the Student Body President (SBP). Although we do not have sure answers, the running theory about the motive is simply disagreeing opinions. In his time as SBP, the deceased expressed controversial opinions on Sumerian culture. We suspect that a local drug lord and human trafficker supplied the Fentanyl to the murderer. The drug lord in question is currently none of your concern, but be aware of the situation on campus.

As Neuvillette was flipping the paper to read the second page, he heard the loud creak of the door. The tall, dark-haired man who entered was none other than Wriothesley, and he looked distressed. "I should've left it on my desk..." Neuvillette made out through the frantic pacing between tables. The amethyst-eyed man set down his papers and rested his gaze on Wriothesley's back. He could tell that the other had toned muscles, even through the... cafe uniform he had on. Neuvillette had recalled the man wearing something else earlier, but understood it's lack of importance and pulled himself back to reality. "Do you need something?" Neuvillette asked, already knowing what the response would be, "Uhm, have you seen a red fountain pen? Its about this size," Wriothesley gestured about 10 centimeters with his hands and continued searching. Neuvillette had seen one exactly how the other man described. Naturally, he put it in the lost and found bin to be claimed. "Why, I do believe I have," Neuvillette started. He saw Wriothesley's eyes sparkle at these words, and continued, "I put it in the lost and found bin on the bookshelf," Wriothesley attempted to hide his eagerness to no avail. As he took the bin down and saw his pen on top of the other trinkets, he practically radiated his gratitude as he turned towards his professor and gave dozens of small bows. Looking up at Mr. Neuvillette, he inquired, "Is there anyway for me to thank you?" hesitant, Neuvillette replied, "There's no need for that," expecting that to be the end of it. However, Wriothesley was determined to improve his impression on the professor, "I insist. There must be something that you want, no?" taken aback, Neuvillette considered momentarily, 'if he must do anything I suppose...' his thoughts faded into words, "I suppose there is something..."

***we all know I stay up to write these chapters, but time flew like and eagle on steroids. aka HOW TF IS IT MIDNIGHT????? also we got character and plot development all in one.***