Wow, some of those words were really hard to use of nowhere! Hussar and Comport, and I don't even know if I used Excrescence correctly!
I actually took a real scene from my life and skewed with it to fit the words in.
It was a good challenge :D
She spent near an hour in the cold outside, walking along the perimeter of their tiny campus garden, balancing herself on the wooden edge of the fielding and yet, she still couldn't keep herself from going to see him. Upstairs, his room was warm and cozy, the heater blazing off hot air that filtered into the room. She unbuttoned her jacket and moved over to look out his window. The view of the Manhattan skyline was just gorgeous. She almost wanted to memorize it every time she saw it, just so that she spot any excrescence the next time she came to look. Today, it looked different than usual. The cold air and last night's rain left a fog over the skyscrapers, a dull blue sky stared back at her with dreary eyes. He turned in his sleep, shifting the covers. She was casting a shadow against his bed so he looked up, surprised to see her. He started to sit up and she looked away quickly. He was shirtless and she couldn't afford to look at his abs because just the thought of them and his muscular shoulders made her cheeks burn. She reminded herself that he was like a brother to her, she shouldn't be checking out his muscles, but the thought was a disavowal to her true feelings. He laughed and she was broken out of her thoughts. He called to her and she turned, comporting herself as a lady might, cautiously giving him that look that tried to tell him she was annoyed with his lack of a shirt. But when he laughed again, she couldn't help, but be taken away with his smile and moved closer, sitting on the edge of his bed and thanking him for calling her right after the test. She had been so upset on the phone that she knew he was worried, so she explained that she wasn't able to do most of the questions. He was in the same boat, he admitted, he had only studied for two days and the test was difficult. She sighed and leaned back, trying to will herself not to cry. "I don't want to take the retake. I wish I had taken the time to understand the work and not just practice questions." He patted her shoulder comfortingly and was about to say something when the door opened.
It was his suitemate, the blond, dictionary-obsessed, technology and media major. He was tall and lanky, and had a strange, victorian-era appeal. He sat on the bed across from and made suggestive faces, commenting on how she had been coming in their room a lot lately. She laughed it off, but he opened his book and pointed out a sentence. It was the use of the word glad. He wanted to hear their opinions. What did they think it meant in that context, how did it feel when they heard the sentence? She leaned sideways with a sigh, causing both of them to topple over onto the opposite end of the bed. Alex was like a lexicographer, always trying to get to the bottom f every word usage in every sentence. Sometimes, it was stifling. Right after a math test, though, it was sort of ironic. Jay, being squished by her flailed arms, reached to poke her in the side so that she would sit up, complaining to 'professor Alex' that his english final wasn't until the next week. She laughed again, but she knew Alex was relatively serious about his analysis. She gave him her opinion and then, got up to leave. She would go outside again. At this rate, if she walked back into her room and tried to study, she would probably explode into tears.
Jay sensed her worry and got up as well, moving over to grab a shirt from his closet. He suggested going out to eat and she compiled. Outside, the air was frigid, colder than it had been when she was walking on her own. When she sneezed, he stopped to fix his scarf around her neck, wrapping it tightly and covering half her face and some of her head in a ridiculous way. She stared at how amused he was, but complained that she could barely breathe. What, was she going off to war or something? When she complained that she couldn't see, he offered to carry her. "Like a horsey," he teased. She rolled her eyes. She could imagine it, too. Jay the horse, and she, the warrior, like a hussar running off into battle and using him as her weapon. He poked her in the side again and she squeaked and jumped to the side. Yes, indeed, he was definitely a weapon of dangerous proportions, she told him, walking faster and holding her side. The poking was always quite dangerous.
She looked up at the sky as he caught up with her and took a deep breath. The test had been a struggle, for sure, but having him here to understand her troubles definitely helped.
