The last hour stretched like chewing gum.
Each minute expanded, stuck to the next, drawing threads of boredom and restlessness. The teacher talked about percentage calculations, numbers, curves, something about interest rates – but in my head, there was only a steady, dull hum.
My thoughts kept drifting away from the numbers on the board to the empty seat beside me.
Alaric was absent.
And every scraping chair, every whisper, every pen that fell to the floor reminded me that he wasn't there. The chair stood like an imprint, like a hole that no one could fill.
I stared at the wooden surface, at the tiny scratch on the edge of the desk that he had made last week with the corner of his ring. So insignificant, yet my gaze remained fixed on it. As if it were the only trace left of him.
When the bell finally rang, I was the first to pack my bag.
