“Bored?” Leo suggested, quietly.

Ewan shrugged and stared straight ahead at the wall right next to his friend’s head- murky cream. It was, he supposed, at least a little bit better than grey. Leo leaned forward and picked up the fallen book.

He chuckled at the simple cover. “Not your usual style.”

“I was curious,” replied Ewan. They reverted back to silence and Leo flicked through the book carelessly.

“Who do they think they are?” he hissed, suddenly. The book found its way back to the floor and landed with a dusty thump at Ewan’s feet. “Keeping us waiting like this.”

Leo stood and pulled his blonde hair off his face with both hands. Blood pulsed under his skin. Anger did not suit him, Ewan decided.

“They’re probably busy,” he said, calmly.

“Well they have no right to be busy!”

Ewan laughed shortly. It was only a small expression of his mirth but Leo stopped pacing when he heard it.

“How can you be so calm? We’re making history!”

“History makes itself,” Ewan cut him off. “We’re just chess pieces.”