FIC: “The Utterances of Storms” OMGCP, pre-graduation
Bittle, after laughing into his cup of tub juice for a good forty seconds, explains with only a little bit of a slur to his words that he’d need time—his mother would have to ship things and he’d need to bother someone named Katya for music.
Jack can’t hear what Ransom says in reply over the din of the party, but Bittle nods a couple of times and grins, cheeks flushed with alcohol.
It’s probably nothing.
Shitty texts him in the middle of World War II in Europe.
dude get to faber asap
It’s not just the lack of exclamation points that makes him leave class early—something he’s never done before, and the betrayed look that Professor Shahabuddin gives him as he’s sorry-ing his way past everyone else in his row tattoos itself on the part of the brain where the ocean of his guilt lives. It’s not just the knowledge that Shitty has his schedule memorized and would never dare interrupt if it weren’t important enough to rattle the cage of what he calls “The Zimmerbeast” that spurs Jack into running across campus.
It’s the “dude.”