<span style="text-decoration: underline">Jackson Croft</span><br/><br/>This morning had seemed to go on for a while, how was it only half past 7?<br/><br/>Jackson walked through the halls of his new University campus, a slice of toast in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. Of course there would be an issue with his enrollment, he couldn't have just blended in with the rest of the new kids. He had to be one of the awkward students that turned up 30 minutes late to his lecture because his visa hadn't been sent off in time, or whatever the issue was.<br/><br/>He finished off the corner crust of his peanut butter smothered slice, wiping the crumbs onto the back of his black denim jeans as he eyeballed each door until he found the number he was looking for. 6F. Okay, he'd remember that combination. He shoved the slip of paper into his leather jacket and continued on, pushing his way through the double doors and picking up his pace.<br/><br/>The man jumped when he felt a touch on his arm, taken out of his focused state. He had barely noticed the girl coming down the same corridor, mainly because he felt stupidly stressed for this early in the morning. Or, technically, late at night if he went by his home timezone. Brown eyes flickered down to look at the girl, the expression on her face indicated that her morning was probably going about the same way as his was.<br/><br/>He chuckled, her fumbling making him feel a little more relaxed. "I'm Jackson." He replied, his British accent thick. "6F is a building? I've been looking for a room." He admitted, running a hand through his bed hair.