In Which There Are Pillow-Books


Joly yawns, and slowly sets his head down on a textbook, closing his eyes and rejoicing in the lumpy pillow, if only because it doesn't shake him awake.

Bossuet steps over, looking fondly at the blonde boy, and ruffles his hair gently. "Domi. Domi, you'd best not sleep at the desk."

"Go 'way," murmurs Joly.

"You've exams tomorrow. Come to bed."

"Mmph."

Bossuet smiles, unbothered, and tugs Joly until he is forced to stand, stumble to the bed, and attempt his slumber there.

But of course Bossuet doesn't allow him to sleep now. "What were you studying?"

"Narcolepsy. Now hush."


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