He looked down at the desk, taking a sharp inhalation. He rested his face in his hands, shaking his head very slightly. There was no way on earth he was going to be able to focus, in calculus no less. He let out a puff of air, absentmindedly running his fingers over the scars on his arms. The ones on his back were much less noticeable, they twinged in pain, but the arm was the easiest to react to and try to diminish. There was no way he could tell her how he saw the exact same thing in his sleep, just from a different perspective.

His fingers rubbed at his temples, feeling the headache setting in. Like little people were taking hammers to the front part of his head. He looked up at the board, before blinking in confusion. He zoned out for too long, and now he didn't have a clue what on earth the teacher was talking about. Story of his life. [@Arista]