I Walk the Line ♤ (gxg)

chapter 1: comfort

Peyton was a good roommate.

Getting adjusted to sharing a room with somebody is never a simple task, but after Peyton walked into their dorm on the second day of the semester with a long string of gold fairy lights to string around the entire room, her presence was much more bearable. She was a deeply kind soul, a socialite who reveled in being around good spirits and helping her fellow person out.

And sometimes she looked as if she had stepped right out of the 1980's. She had a vintage style of clothing, often complementing her platinum blonde hair with striped midriff shirts and rolled up jeans where her pale ankles peeked out. Her fashion sense was certainly the epitome of what most people strived for in the modern trend of recycling styles from the past.

She tied her hair into a high ponytail with her cream-colored scrunchie, her rose gold glasses slowly falling down her nose until she used her finger to push them back up to her dark eyebrows that mismatched the lightness of her hair. She was studying a story that she had been assigned to analyze.

"Mr. Dawson really gives us interesting stories," her soft voice drifted as she turned a page, her eyes scanning the words. Her eyes were hidden by the reflection in her glasses of the soft fairy lights lined along the ceiling trim.

"Yea," said her roommate, being brought back from her pensive state. She found it hard to focus on reading the story that she and Peyton had both been assigned, as they were doing the same majors and therefore had the same classes. She tucked a piece of her curly brown hair behind her ear. It fell back to her shoulder again, momentarily alarming her from how it stopped so abruptly. She was still getting used to how short she had cut it. The beginning of October had, for some reason, prompted her for a change. Maybe it was the cooling weather, or maybe she felt that if she revolutionized herself, she would feel somewhat calmer. A haircut was certainly such a revolutionary thing.

"This one might be sort of hard to analyze, though. Because five whole pages? Over a two-page long short story? I don't really know what we will be able to do with that," Peyton ranted almost only to herself given that her roommate was silent. The lack of response caused her to turn her head. "August?"

August blinked and turned her head towards her. "Sorry. Yea, I agree with you," she half-heartedly spoke.

"Are you okay?" Peyton inquired, taking her glasses off and turning her body to face August. It wasn't the first time she had to dig into her roommate's mind to see what was going on inside of it.

With a heavy sigh, August sat up from her pillow, rubbing her eyes before flickering them open again, pools of dark blue tinted with exhaustion. "Yes, I am okay. I am just really tired. I stayed up too late last night studying." It was true, but she didn't really understand how being tired would make her feel this sort of restless, stuck feeling.

Peyton eyed her suspiciously. "You better not be that tired tomorrow night. You, Emilia, and I are still going to that party."

August groaned, annoyed at the fact that Peyton brought it up again. "Listen, Pey, I know—"

"Don't even try to argue with me," Peyton interrupted. "This is not up for debate. You are going to the fuckin' party with me. Stop being some cliché boring girl." She turned away, gripping her book. "Jesus, you remind me of some chick off of a typical teenage movie." She relaxed, leaning her back against the head frame of her bed and crossing her legs.

August smirked, always loving when Peyton used curse words, with it being very out of her pristine character. "What a potty mouth."

She glared at her. "Yea, well this potty mouth is about to spit some serious flames at you."