Mitchell sat heavily in his seat, wobbling the rickety table and sloshing coffee over the pristine sheet of A4 in front of him.
With his sleeve, he dabbed up the mess and cursed whichever genius had invented 8:30 lectures. And he thought vampires were sadistic.
The rest of the class began to trickle slowly into the large lecture theatre, oversized for the number of students. Introduction to Classical Myth and Legend wasn't the
popular blow-off class, probably due to the scheduling and the lecturer, whose droning voice could be used to cure hardcore insomniacs, but it was certainly up there.
It did have its perks though. Firstly, Mitchell was secretly a massive geek for this sort of thing.
As a creature of legend himself, he felt a certain affinity for the subject, so the work never really felt like work at all.
The second perk came in the shape of the short, blonde guy who always sat one seat in front and to the left.
He was the most put-together student Mitchell had ever seen; his shirts were always crisp and spotless, his shoes were cleaner than Mitchell's kitchen hob, and his neat,
flowing handwriting was a work of art in itself. He also had dimples. Mitchell wanted to do unspeakable things to Dimples' dimples. But he was also
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