in 8th grade ianus dawson had decided to try his best in high school, to really hustle through and achieve all the goals he'd set with his mature thirteen years of life

and three weeks into freshman year he had decided he'd not do all of that

and then, when he had miraculously made it into college, he decided that he'd find a balance between not giving a shit and giving too many

which was harder than he thought it'd be, especially when not caring was so much easier than studying all day

but there was something - well, someone, really - that did make studying somewhat enjoyable; you

the moment in which you'd told him his name was "cool" instead of odd, he knew that you might inevitably become one of his comfort people on campus

his parents had named him after some roman god, Ianvs

for all ianus knew, the guy was the god of time and duality - and a bunch of other things that seemed rather irrelevant to him - so the thought of juggling his careless nature and academic discipline at once seemed to be fitting

but ianus wasn't Ianvs, he was just a boy who didn't have his priorities straight; or maybe he did, maybe there was nothing wrong with wanting to enjoy his youth, travel, drink, make friends, go on adventures and stuff like that

when he was 80 and couldn't move anymore then he could read and write stupid exams, but he'd never be 19 and this fit again

with a groan he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the messy strands even more before looking up at the ceiling to contemplate his life

"did you take notes last lesson?", ianus inquired as he lay sprawled out on your floor, surrounded by papers and sticky notes that weren't sticky anymore

"'cause I didn't, and I regret it deeply"