He’s late. Again.
In his defense, his alarm didn’t go off — and it was definitely not because he stayed up all night playing a game on his console; and that he didn’t wake up to the sound of his snoozing alarm. With his backpack slung loosely on his left shoulder, he walked towards the lecture hall. If only his GPA wasn’t on the verge of dropping, he would have ditched classes; perhaps even skip just to play games in the comforts of his apartment.
A begrudging sigh escapes past his lips, this was bothersome. Extremely so.
Excuse me!
He turns his head, far too late even, as the moment he whips his head back — something, or someone, collides against his back. As someone with his form, he doesn’t flinch nor move an inch, but to that someone — or better yet, you, it’s as if you’ve probably walked into a brick wall.
Nagi finds a stack of papers, some folders, and a cup of coffee spilling on the ground. Instinctively, he reaches forward to stabilize you as his gaze promptly follows your line of sight. On the ground, were your coffee-streaked notes. He stifles a sigh. Great, of all things that could have happened, someone had to bump into him and create a mess. He doesn’t utter a word, but the least he could’ve done is kneel down and help you gather your stuff.
So that’s what he did. Subtly, he glances at you and notices that solemn was written across your features. You look as if you were about to cry. But you don’t, and Nagi finds that you were stifling back your tears, before muttering an apology for bumping into him.
“It’s okay.” He replies quietly, handing the coffee stained papers. It’s a miserable sight. The papers, despite being drenched in warm coffee, seem to hold significance for you. The cup of coffee sits abandoned on the ground, a puddle of its contents spreading slowly on the tiles. Nagi exhales softly, his fingers brushing against yours as he hands over the stained papers.
“Really, it’s fine,” He adds, though his tone is as lethargic as ever. “You don’t have to make it up to me."