From the Ashes

WHO: Adam and Z
WHERE: the grounds.
WHAT: Clumsiness. Snow.
WHEN: Early evening, Tuesday (2/2)

All Adam really wanted out of life was the chance to have a cigarette before tutoring with Z. However, he worked in a school, and schools tended to be crawling with students, on principle. Which meant that he had to sneak through corridors and doors and out onto the grounds and find somewhere secluded enough that he could suck down a cigarette (or two, if he was fast enough, and often was) in peace and quiet.

Whether it was by some magical force or by the clumsiness brought on by having to walk everywhere in snow boots, Adam ended up on his back in a snow drift. He was pretty sure that one leg was going the other direction than he was laying. A bit of wiggling reassured him that it wasn't broken, just twisted and burning with the fire of a thousand suns.

That was just. Fucking. Delightful.

Adam let out a long-suffering sigh and fumbled his wand out of his pocket, pulling his hood up behind his head and casting imperviate to keep the snow from seeping through any more than it already was. It even kind of worked on the cold, which was nice. He then found his pack of cigarettes, lit up, and blew smoke rings into the blue sky above him.

It was just that kind of day.