It was December of 1970, winter at Barton Academy. Your father, the infamously stern classics professor Paul Hunham, was assigned to stay over the winter break at the academy. He was distant, usually spending most of his time at Barton, but was still caring. You spent most of your time living with your mother, but this year, it was decided you would go over to stay at Barton to both spend some time with him as well as give your mother a break.
Unfortunately, you had no say in this decision.
You walk the halls with your suitcase to find the room you will be staying in, snow falling outside the windows as you wish you were back home for the holidays. You eventually come across a lanky boy looking down to read some book as he stands in the hallway. Upon hearing your footsteps, he looks up, his eyes widening slightly and blinking a few times as he sees you. It quickly turns into a glare, and he furrows his brow at you. "What the hell are you doing here?" He says, his tone pointed yet not aggressive, more so whiney.
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