Ichigo was the one who considered his room a sanctuary. Mostly. Kind of. When Ishida wasn't there. Despite popular belief, Ichigo studied hard for school, but that didn't mean he liked it. Unlike some four eyed sewing nerds. (That had been weird, walking in the find his roommate with needle and thread in hand. Who sewed anymore? Besides girls?)
So in his room, he needed peace and quiet. Which worked well enough when he and his roommate were ignoring each other and pretending there was an invisible line down the center of their room. Ichigo had no qualms about completely disregarding another person's existence, especially when said person was a dork. Who also happened to be a dick.
Figured he'd get the dicky dork.
Ichigo flipped the next page in his history book, eyes bleakly following every fascinating detail of the American Revolution when he heard the doorknob creak. He groaned and inwardly headdesked.
Giving Ichigo the same acknowledgment he would a speck of lint on freshly seamed pants, Uryuu walked past him and towards his side of the all-too-small room. Only after he'd hung his uniform jacket, slipped off his shoes, and neatly arranged the textbooks on his desk, did he casted a glance over his shoulder.
"Kurosaki."
It was hard to tell whether the words registered as a greeting or an observation. A way of acknowledging that the room wasn't empty, but he'd like it more if it were.
At least he was quiet today. Unless the book in front of him was a prop, Ichigo was actually studying. That was certainly the kind of thing one had to see to believe. Perhaps the quiet tension between the two would prove beneficial to their academics after all.
Returning his attention to his desk, Uryuu pulled out the chair in front of him and attempted to sit down. Only he couldn't, because the chair was already occupied by a book bag that didn't belong to him
( ... )
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So in his room, he needed peace and quiet. Which worked well enough when he and his roommate were ignoring each other and pretending there was an invisible line down the center of their room. Ichigo had no qualms about completely disregarding another person's existence, especially when said person was a dork. Who also happened to be a dick.
Figured he'd get the dicky dork.
Ichigo flipped the next page in his history book, eyes bleakly following every fascinating detail of the American Revolution when he heard the doorknob creak. He groaned and inwardly headdesked.
Great. His roomie was back.
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"Kurosaki."
It was hard to tell whether the words registered as a greeting or an observation. A way of acknowledging that the room wasn't empty, but he'd like it more if it were.
At least he was quiet today. Unless the book in front of him was a prop, Ichigo was actually studying. That was certainly the kind of thing one had to see to believe. Perhaps the quiet tension between the two would prove beneficial to their academics after all.
Returning his attention to his desk, Uryuu pulled out the chair in front of him and attempted to sit down. Only he couldn't, because the chair was already occupied by a book bag that didn't belong to him ( ... )
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