It was finally time. Finals were over, he was just waiting on grades at this point. It had been a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. He'd expected his time as a senior to drag on, but in the blink of an eye it was all over and suddenly Ganymede found himself on the edge of the last chapter of his time at the Academy. His home. The only home he'd ever known, not that it was really all that unusual- most cache children only knew the Academy has home. It had been a great source of sadness for him growing up- knowing he'd never know where his roots were from, or if he had any living relatives at all from slightly different bloodlines... He still wanted to know, still wanted to belong with his people, but...
That was something to worry about later, he supposed. Magical and technological ways of discerning bloodlines were getting better every year, so he supposed by the time he was done with his college education, he'd have a fair chance at finding out.
Ugh. College. He was, admittedly, done with academics... but now he was going to be able to focus on something he actually liked. Ganymede had known what he wanted to do from a young age- just before starting his time as a junior, really. He'd picked up a natural talent for sewing and he'd always been fairly good at drawing- combining the two into fashion design was a no-brainer. From stuffed toys to actual people, Ganymede had already tried his hand at making plenty of things.
Now he just needed to get the official piece of paper that said he was good enough to work in the "real" world. It was kind of dumb, but a lot of agencies wanted to see a real academic portfolio before even looking at candidates.
So, Grendel it was. Far away from the Academy, nothing at all like home. Away from most people he knew...
Well, except one.
At least he'd have Foras.
And... whatever he and Foras were. He hadn't quite gotten the words out just yet- things were so difficult to voice when so much was at risk. What if he was reading the cues wrong? What if Foras was just being his usual flirty self? So many doubts clouded his mind on that topic- and honestly he wasn't sure what to do about it. So, naturally, he procrastinated. Maybe if he just kept going with the flow long enough, it'd sort itself out?
In the back of his mind he knew that's not how things work. Things like this don't just "sort themselves out," hard work has to be put into them... Yet, despite knowing it, despite not having any good arguments as to why he should just wait it out... He couldn't move forward.
Another nagging voice- deep in the back of his mind, buried under heartache and hurt, still managed to hold him back.
Worthless.
Every time he thought he might say something- might ask, might confirm... The words echoed in his head as if he were right back at prom.
How stupid.
