[Capital University: Misha & Damian]
Misha, he'd been glad of the early morning start. He was still sore and tired from the day 'fore, lessons having gone real long, but he was even more fussed 'bout the party and how things had gone there. He was down some, depressed, and waking early and focusing on steps he'd never learned, it was good distracting. Every so often, he thought on Damian being back asleep, and it made him smile some to picture the boy 'neath blankets and 'gainst pillows. Damian, he looked real angelic sleeping, real restful, and Misha liked thinking on him like that, not fussed or sad or stressed any. It was deceptive some, on account of Misha knew he'd made the other boy plenty sad the night 'fore. But, still, he liked pretending some, and he was currently pretending Damian was home and snuggled up, waiting on him and not sad any at all.
Class was real long, and he'd gone rushing to his phone, over on his bag and playing a fiddling tone, when a FLEET message came on through. Admittedly, the message panicked him some, and that was on account of him fearing gateway drugs leading to gateways. But, Damian, he said he was coming to the gym, and Misha crouched and rubbed at his eyes, and knew he was overreacting to this whole damn weed thing, but he couldn't seem to help himself any. He messaged back, saying he'd meet Damian there when classes ended.
Misha, he knew where the gym was. There was a private one for the performing arts students, but it was geared toward dancing, and there weren't heavy weights or swimming there, so he'd been in the bigger one on occasion. Lifting ballerinas for a long spell, it required a whole lot more definition of muscles than Misha had, and he'd done some work in the gym recent. He wasn't sure if he'd find Damian swimming or sweating, so he didn't bother changing out of pants and underthings, and his shirt was a v-neck croptop in pristine white, on account of he' washed up after sweating though his tights.
His hair was still damp, and he had a bag flung over his shoulder, and he caught sight of Damian's pretty skin in the water, and so he made his way to the deep end of the pool. There, he crouched on the edge and at the end of Damian's lane. He wasn't wearing his ring, so there wasn't no immediate way to make Damian feel his presence. So, barring any other option that didn't include talking in the boy's head, he reached down into the water and wiggled his fingers, perching precarious and hoping Damian opened his eyes on reaching the wall.