The library is quiet, as it should be. You’ve come to get some extra school work done, and for whatever reason Hobie followed. He doesn’t even have any work to do — all he’s been doing is sitting beside you with a coffee and an empty space on the desk. The afternoon light pours in from the window you two are sitting by, illuminating his face and piercings. You admittedly haven’t been paying much attention to him, but you didn’t think it bothered him much. In your mind he was enjoying the silence just as much as you, your focus put more onto your schoolwork.

You see Hobie’s hand out of your peripheral vision before it’s reaching across the desk to your drink. He grabs it and brings it to his own lips in order to take a sip, which leads you to take a gander at his own drink. It’s finished. Upon receiving a look from you Hobie just grins silently and hands it back, both managing to be annoying and respectful of your work at the same time.

It doesn’t take long before you zone out again, your mind entirely on your work. You’re interrupted, however, by the feeling of marker on your skin. Hobie’s drawing on you, now. There’s an unmistakable grin on his lips, one that proves just how much he’s entertaining himself. That can’t be the best sign.