The classroom is tidy. It always is, sparsely decorated, all the tables and chairs lined up in perfect rows. Mo Ran has seen Chu Wanning's desk and knows the neatness is a lie when it's impossible to make heads or tails of anything in the junk piled in the drawers.
The classroom, though. The classroom. It's the bane of Mo Ran's life, the room he hates more than most (and make no mistake: Mo Ran hates most of the classrooms and the rigidity of a school day). Chinese literature. Not a terrible topic if it weren't for Chu Wanning, who manages to suck the joy out of everything. Who tends to infuriate him over everything, even while he captivates Mo Ran more than any teacher he's ever had.
He stands in the doorway for a moment, looking at the desk Chu Wanning is perched behind. It gives him a moment to observe his teacher bent over his work, which only serves to annoy him further. He's there, so why isn't Chu Wanning paying attention to him? He doesn't want to be stuck in this terrible classroom with his strict teacher to practice calligraphy.
"When am I even going to use calligraphy?" he asks, stepping further inside the room. The door slams shut behind him, but Mo Ran walks toward Chu Wanning's desk, unconcerned. "Why do we have to know how to write these by hand?" No one handwrites anything anymore, and Mo Ran is no exception, constantly attached to his phone. "And my handwriting isn't even the worst!" It is, though, and Mo Ran knows that, but his first questions are relevant. He stalks to the desk, dropping his backpack and scowling down at his teacher, arms akimbo. "I'm missing fencing practice for this. Is calligraphy that important?"
His coach hadn't been pleased about the skipped practice, but there was nothing to be done about it, and Mo Ran knows he can afford to miss a practice or two, especially since he'll drag someone out to practice with him later. It's left him annoyed enough that he dared to venture into Chu Wanning's room dressed casually: he's discarded his jacket, stripped off his tie, and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt.
"Take this to Senior Chu," Mo Ran mumbles, pitching his voice high to mimic his aunt's tone as he approaches the house. In his hands, the bag of medicine and his aunt's soup rustle together, and Mo Ran sighs loudly, annoyed that he's the one tasked with this errand.
He doesn't try to repeat his aunt's orders or mock her tone again, already feeling slightly bad about that; he respects her too much to do that, and she is a good person, just trying to help someone who, as everyone knows, lives alone.
It annoys him that Chu Wanning can get sick. It's a reminder that his teacher, beautiful and strict and so imposing, holding himself above everyone else and looking down on the rest of them, is still mortal and capable of getting sick, and somewhere in the mess of Mo Ran's thoughts, it seems unfair. And it annoys him that he has to be the one to bring everything to Chu Wanning, although the idea that someone else might do it is even worse. He didn't handle the idea of someone waiting for Chu Wanning&dmash;
"Wait." Mo Ran stops in front of the house he's been directed to, frowning at the front door. "If he had someone waiting for him, that means he has someone around. Why the hell am I doing this?"
The reminder that Chu Wanning was seeing someone sets him on edge, and Mo Ran clenches his teeth, fingers tightening on the plastic bag he carries. "Rude asshole, not taking care of him," he grumbles, walking up to the door and knocking loudly. He has keys given to him by his uncle, but he'd been told to use them only if Chu Wanning didn't answer. Something about being polite.
Mo Ran just wants to barge in, but it won't do if he's yelled at immediately by his teacher, and he doesn't want to get his uncle or aunt in trouble with Chu Wanning. Not that he'd do anything to them, but it matters.
"Laoshi," he calls, knocking again. "It's Mo Ran. I have medicine for you."
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The classroom, though. The classroom. It's the bane of Mo Ran's life, the room he hates more than most (and make no mistake: Mo Ran hates most of the classrooms and the rigidity of a school day). Chinese literature. Not a terrible topic if it weren't for Chu Wanning, who manages to suck the joy out of everything. Who tends to infuriate him over everything, even while he captivates Mo Ran more than any teacher he's ever had.
He stands in the doorway for a moment, looking at the desk Chu Wanning is perched behind. It gives him a moment to observe his teacher bent over his work, which only serves to annoy him further. He's there, so why isn't Chu Wanning paying attention to him? He doesn't want to be stuck in this terrible classroom with his strict teacher to practice calligraphy.
"When am I even going to use calligraphy?" he asks, stepping further inside the room. The door slams shut behind him, but Mo Ran walks toward Chu Wanning's desk, unconcerned. "Why do we have to know how to write these by hand?" No one handwrites anything anymore, and Mo Ran is no exception, constantly attached to his phone. "And my handwriting isn't even the worst!" It is, though, and Mo Ran knows that, but his first questions are relevant. He stalks to the desk, dropping his backpack and scowling down at his teacher, arms akimbo. "I'm missing fencing practice for this. Is calligraphy that important?"
His coach hadn't been pleased about the skipped practice, but there was nothing to be done about it, and Mo Ran knows he can afford to miss a practice or two, especially since he'll drag someone out to practice with him later. It's left him annoyed enough that he dared to venture into Chu Wanning's room dressed casually: he's discarded his jacket, stripped off his tie, and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt.
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He doesn't try to repeat his aunt's orders or mock her tone again, already feeling slightly bad about that; he respects her too much to do that, and she is a good person, just trying to help someone who, as everyone knows, lives alone.
It annoys him that Chu Wanning can get sick. It's a reminder that his teacher, beautiful and strict and so imposing, holding himself above everyone else and looking down on the rest of them, is still mortal and capable of getting sick, and somewhere in the mess of Mo Ran's thoughts, it seems unfair. And it annoys him that he has to be the one to bring everything to Chu Wanning, although the idea that someone else might do it is even worse. He didn't handle the idea of someone waiting for Chu Wanning&dmash;
"Wait." Mo Ran stops in front of the house he's been directed to, frowning at the front door. "If he had someone waiting for him, that means he has someone around. Why the hell am I doing this?"
The reminder that Chu Wanning was seeing someone sets him on edge, and Mo Ran clenches his teeth, fingers tightening on the plastic bag he carries. "Rude asshole, not taking care of him," he grumbles, walking up to the door and knocking loudly. He has keys given to him by his uncle, but he'd been told to use them only if Chu Wanning didn't answer. Something about being polite.
Mo Ran just wants to barge in, but it won't do if he's yelled at immediately by his teacher, and he doesn't want to get his uncle or aunt in trouble with Chu Wanning. Not that he'd do anything to them, but it matters.
"Laoshi," he calls, knocking again. "It's Mo Ran. I have medicine for you."
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