100 themes von K-Cee ================================================================================ Kapitel 8: delirious -------------------- Fingers sluggishly dragged along fogged glass windows, the painted patterns all the messier through the slight rocking of the train. It was early morning – very early – and Uruha had spent half of the night trying to fix his figurative problems while drowning his sensory system in the sensation of alcohol. Or to put it in other words: He was trashed beyond reason. Needless to say that with every pint he flushed down his throat, his thoughts got messier and more unsatisfying than before. So he ended up on the subway, on his way home, and had decided to give the whole problem a mathematical shot. The problem at hand was his limited skill palette in social interaction, paired with the superior attractiveness of his object of desire and the massive need to get laid rather sooner than later. He had been busy sketching down a hash algorithm before, figuring out what features he'd might need to attract the other's attention in a good way, other than tripping over his own feet and bumping into him, sending a stash of papers his crush had been holding all the way over the university corridor, along with students' laughter and awkward looks and whispers. Because he'd already done that and it, obviously, wasn't the kind of attention he'd been seeking. A remorseful look and a sigh wasn't the best of achievements and ever since that embarrassing incident, the both of them hadn't talked. - cuteness - eloquence - good looks - certain liking in literature - boobs These were the points he'd found out having attracted positive attention in his co-worker but since he would only be able to accomplish four out of five, he'd decided to count the last one as an error within that matrix. He was still drunk, so little slips were possible, right? Trying to transmit a PageRate algorithm onto criteria which would most likely make the other fall for him turned out to be a bit of a hassle and once he was done sketching it down, he felt as smart as he had when he'd started sketching at first. Why was interaction with other human beings so hard, anyway? If some kind of God, or Krishna, or Almighty, or power, or whatever one would fancy to call it, existed, why'd he make it so hard on mankind? Could that old, bearded guy up there not just offer him a simple subjunction here? An idiot-proof point that, if achieved, would make his object of interest fall madly in love with him. That would be nice for a change. But no, instead of that simplest solution, he had to write a fuckload of formulas and stochastics into the thin sheen of humidity on dirty subway windows, just to find out he still did not have a clue at all. Life was not fair. Finally, he fell back into one of the seats and closed his eyes. He felt nauseated for a second, until he opened his eyes again, feeling sleepy and in desperate need for a toothbrush and a hot shower. He was really craving for his pyjamas. He would never live through one more day at university – and the last time he'd said that had been back in his own days as a student, not a teacher, like now – given that he would meet him every day, at least during lunch break at the cafeteria. He wanted to spend time with him. At the same time, he knew he would turn around and walk away as soon as he'd spot that black-haired adonis down the hall. It was like a paradoxon... or rather, like an aphorism..? Because if this was the latter, he'd have to ask his co-worker about it, didn't he? Why was he drawn to a man of literature in the first place? It was not like they were having the same wavelength in terms of thinking – maybe that was why this whole thing would not work out in the end? His musing was interrupted by the cell phone in his pocket ringing, and it took him a moment to fish it out of the tight confines of his pants to read the text message from the person he'd been thinking about all the time. From: Aoi-san Hey, pretty. Couldn't sleep half the night. Riddle for you: I am 2 + 2 but I don't equal 4. What am I? -A PS. For an answer meet me at main station Staba in half an hour! He smiled like a dork to himself and got off the train at main station. He did not know what the answer for that riddle was, neither did he know how much better his night would eventually get once he found out about it. However, after tonight, he would not have to worry about his social awkwardness anymore. Hosted by Animexx e.V. (http://www.animexx.de)