I Want a New Drug
Eight o' clock in the evening and the day has finally wound down. It's past time to go home, but Jean-Paul Beaubier is still at Xavier's. That's been the way of things for the past few days, as the students and teachers alike struggle with the schedules for the new term.
It's a new term. A new year. And he's still here. That thought is crazy-making enough that he's retreated to the porch for a breath of fresh air. The crisp, cutting scents of ice and evergreen hit the back of his throat and clear his head as nothing else will.
Which is really quite pathetic, come to think about it.
Jean-Paul almost smiles as he leans on the railing, staring out over the snowy front lawn.
"Given the life I've lead," he mutters to himself, "I really should have made an effort to cultivate more vices."
It's a new term. A new year. And he's still here. That thought is crazy-making enough that he's retreated to the porch for a breath of fresh air. The crisp, cutting scents of ice and evergreen hit the back of his throat and clear his head as nothing else will.
Which is really quite pathetic, come to think about it.
Jean-Paul almost smiles as he leans on the railing, staring out over the snowy front lawn.
"Given the life I've lead," he mutters to himself, "I really should have made an effort to cultivate more vices."