TØUCH, WHERE IT HURTS | mulder + scully

C H A P T E R F Ī V E;

Hangovers suck,

Fox Mulder had a headache. Sitting right in the centre of his temple. It rang through his ears and his head, he felt like someone was playing heavy metal in his brain. He really really needed to stop drinking on nights before lectures and classes. Hangovers are not fun, he decides.

'What do you think Mr. Mulder?' The teacher asked, pushing his glasses up his nose, standing at the front of the class, balding and round.

'Huh?' He replied, before realising what he had actually said. His head it throbbing so bad. He just wants to go home.

'Just as I thought' he smirked sarcastically. Mulder scowled.

He looked down at the leather wrist watch strapped to his wrist. Twenty minutes left of class and he could go back to his dorm and sleep. Be quick, he begged internally.

The minutes pass, it feels so slow, like eternity, his head still aching, Mulder paying less and less attention as they do, and finally,

'You can all go, remember your essays are due to be submitted tomorrow night'

/yeah, yeah/ Mulder thought. The looks on his classmates faces said they felt the same.

Upon leaving class one of his classmates comes up to him, patting him on the shoulder.

'Fox, right' He smiles a friendly smile. He's a lot smaller than Mulder, a lot smaller, he's plump with signs of early male pattern baldness, round glasses sit on the bridge of his nose.

'Uhh, yeah' he says.

'There's a party at my place tonight, for Psych students, wondering if you're interested?'

Mulder ponders for a moment. The headache says no, his sore throat says please no. 'Sure' he shrugs, 'why not?' /goddamnit/

'Awesome' the short boy hands him a scrap of paper.

'This is the address, I guess we'll see you then' Mulder nods.

☾

He sits down on one of the couches at the back of the cafe. This has become his spot since moving here, since he started his classes. Kitt had smiled at him as he walked in, given a friendly wave. They'd gotten in the routine of her bringing his usual over, him handing her two pound thirty.

He opened his laptop, staring solemnly at the blank screen. /this essay isn't gonna write itself/. He had decided in between leaving the classroom and the doors of the university building, that perhaps this essay is more important than sleeping and he should probably get it done for the sake of grades. He could already imagine the lecture he would receive from his father if he failed. It would of course come down to the money, not his future.

'I didn't not pay thousands of dollars worth of tuition for you to fail Fox.'

He's the only one here.

'Kitt' he shouts, to the girl at the counter.

'Mhm' she replies.

'Where's the redhead?'

'She only works weekends, she has college through the week. He nods, /fair enough/

The screen remains completely blank for a while, his mind is empty, he cannot concentrate, finally he begins to type. After a while he gets bored. Promises himself he'll finish tomorrow. He checks his email. There's one from Diana.

☒

To; Fox W. Mulder;
- alienboi@hotmail.com
From; Diana Fowley;
- DianaFowley@hotmail.com

Subject; Hi! Stranger;

Message;
- Fox, how are you? I saw your mom at the supermarket the other day. She tells me you actually did it, you actually moved to England. I hope those Brits treat you kindly. Is it really different? You're gonna do great over there.

I miss you sometimes you know? X

P.S // You left your Nicks jersey at mine.

☒

He reads the email twice over, word by word, how dare she act so normal, the kiss makes him feel sick, his stomach turns over, and then he presses the delete button. /you can keep the jersey/ he thinks to himself.

He returns to his essay. He needs to rid the message from his mind. It's time to move on.

He's had three cups of coffee since he got here. He needs it.

After a while he checks his watch again, he's been here just over three hours. It's six p.m and he reasons with himself that's a suitable time for him to go home and eat, shower and get ready for the party later, the scarp of paper tells him it starts at nine thirty.

☾

Back in his dorm, Mulder opens the fridge, it's practically empty, he knows he should have gotten something while he was out.

'For fuck sake' he curses aloud. This is not his day.

So he instead he just sits for a while, channel surfing, there's nothing on, he's still finding his way around English television. It's all so strange to him.

For half an hour, to his complete surprise, Mulder finds himself fully immersed in a tv show called /hollyoaks/. It's over before he knows it and he has absolutely no idea why he just spent half an hour of his time watching whatever it was he had just watched. He shrugs.

The clock on the wall tells him it's seven thirty now. He decides to shower and change before leaving for the party. His headaches finally subsided too, he thanks god for small mercies. Although really he knows it will only be replaced in a few hours time.

So he showers and shaves, puts on some clean clothes, before heading out the door.

How bad can it be?