you don't want to be alone
You see him almost everyday. Sometimes in places you expect, other times it was unpredictable.
Yesterday, just like every other Tuesday and Friday, you saw him in class. You sat a seat away from him as always, occasionally sending him a look with your nose scrunched up when the professor makes a bad joke or tries to be decades younger than he actually is. And, same as any other day in class, you didn’t interact with him outside of sharing the extra desk space from the empty seat between you two and short comments in the form of sarcastic remarks, always joking and sending tiny smiles back and forth. At least, you’d imagine so, if his eyes have anything to say.
Today, it’s on the train. He sits across from you. Just like most days you see him, wherever it may be, he’s got a book in his hand with a concentrated look lining his features. Like he’s very invested in what you could only presume was some erotic novel, given the rather lewd cover. How he can keep a straight face with a hand casually stretched across his masked mouth like he’s contemplating something serious, you’ll never understand.
He must have just finished a chapter, tilting his head back and sighing as he snaps the book shut. A slow blink and he lifts his eyes forward, catching your gaze. Awkwardly, you glance to the ground with fluttering eyelids, desperate to avoid eye contact. Excuses swarm your head.
Your phone was dead, so you were just staring off into space. That’s all. Sorry if your staring was uncomfortable.
A small pull sways your body to the side. You stand up prematurely and nearly lose your balance as the train comes to a stop. The panic of nearly falling combined with the anxiety of being caught staring at someone nearly sent you spiralling to the floor.
The boy across from you notices your considerable lack of standing-up-skills and rushes to keep you upright. Nimble fingers quickly wrap around the right side of your waist, the left kept still by a book flat against your side.
Murmuring your thanks, you keep your eyes glued to the floor as you move to line up in front of the sliding doors. You think you catch his hands linger just a moment, mindlessly enthralled by the feeling of human touch. The doors can’t open fast enough as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, itching to leave the vicinity of the same classmate you’re stuck thinking about again.
It always happens. You notice him---does he notice you?---and begin wondering. Where’s he off to, or what’s going on in his head while he’s stuck in his own little world, eyes glued to pages of his book?
And it stays like that for an hour or two. Thinking about all the curious natures of your classmate, and the constant running into him everywhere you go. It follows you into the night this time.
Surely you weren’t that lonely. Lying in bed in the dark while your roommate was out partying, however, did not help the case. Hugging yourself in blankets, it’s only natural for your mind to drift off to the feeling of being held. The artificial warmth of the soft blankets feels empty compared to the heat of another person. If you think about it, which you really don’t like to, you realise your only friend is your roommate who doesn’t even remember your name half the time.
Stuck in a pit of hollow loneliness and boredom, you scroll through your phone looking up your classmate’s name on everything you can think of. Nothing. A few results here and there, but none match his exact name or any images resembling what could be from him. And now you feel like some weird stalker. You groan at yourself.
It was painfully embarrassing once you realise how boring your life is; swarmed with projects and studying, there wasn’t any room for anything else. At least, you convince yourself so.
Sleep never finds you to grace your tired mind. Sunday creeps up during your Netflix marathon in the small hours of the morning. It’s 3am when you actually realise a day has passed, and by that point, you’ve long passed the exhaustion phase, and you’re more bored than tired.
A midnight adventure sounds like a good cure, and mixed with the sudden, sleep deprived urge to meet another human being overwhelms you. Stretching makes your bones crackle, the only sound in the night as you stay courteous to your sleeping roommate, sneaking out without making a sound.
Chilly, night time air is welcome against your skin. Thoughts of seeing your classmate out and about at this hour plague your mind, and you can’t stop thinking about seeing him. It’s a pointless hope, really, knowing the chances are slim to none. And there’s no way he’ll be in that sketchy, 24/7 convenience shop right up ahead, right?
You check anyway.
To absolutely no one’s surprise, it’s absolutely empty, aside from the tired worker scrolling through their phone. They hear the ding of the door opening, and they nod towards you, to which you return with a small smile and continue on into the shop. It feels weird not to buy anything at this point, so you search for a snack. The buzz of the lights and display cases keeping old pretzels and doughnuts warm tempts you to buy something cozy, but alas, nothing looks all that fresh. Old timey pop music floods your ears as you tune out the buzzing, and you get into the tunes as you bob your head slightly.
Relatively certain the employee is more interested in whatever video they’re tuned into, you rock your shoulders and tap your feet a little, spinning as a guitar riff takes front stage. Grinning to yourself and letting out an airy giggle, you keep track of the lyrics and music while you browse the selection of snacks for sale. So enveloped in the music, the bell dinging doesn’t register in your mind.
“Pardon me.”
Shaking from the sudden voice right next to your ear, you quickly step aside and excuse yourself. Heat pulsing through your face, you look down at the bottom row of snacks and tilt your head away from him.
“I don’t bite. At least not usually. Dancing Queen is a good song, anyway. I’d jam out too.”
“Honestly, I’d imagine it would be a bit hard to bite anything wearing that mask of yours all the time.” You pray to god you don’t strike a nerve.
He huffs, an amused chuckle. “Fair enough. Then again, I’d imagine it would be pretty hard to get all embarrassed when you look so cute, so I suppose we all go against what seems natural.”
And with that, the boy snatches a bag of chips and walks to the register to pay. Left flustered and twice as embarrassed as before, you hastily move to the refrigerated portion of the store in attempts to shake off the feelings. Deciding on treating yourself with a cold, bottled soda, you grab your favourite type and ring it up at the register. Thanking the employee, you take a deep breath as you step outside, noticing your classmate standing just outside the store.
He waves with two fingers. “Hey.”
“Fancy seeing you here.”
“Same to you. I suppose you’re not out at midnight often?”
“Not particularly. Are you?”
He shrugs. “More or less.”
A silence falls between you two.
“I’m surprised you don’t have your book with you.” A momentary pause. “I mean, you’ve always got one with you, whenever I see you,” you add on, trying to make it seem less weird that you notice him around often.
He chuckles, taking a shy look at your unsure face. “So you see me, too. I think I find it easier to read in public. Makes me feel like I’m being more productive.”
He looks up at the sky. The moon glows behind thin strands of clouds, and stars are hardly visible. You take a look as well, humming.
“I get that. I like to always do things to keep me productive, or else I feel like I’ve wasted my time. It’s kind of why I’m out here tonight, instead of hiding under blankets watching Netflix through the morning.” You huff, smiling at yourself.
He takes a few steps away then checks behind him, eyes floating at your still figure. He nods his head to signal you to follow.
You walk with him and open your soda, the drink hissing as you remove the cap. Taking sips every couple minutes, you walk aimlessly with him and chat away. You two formally introduce yourselves---He’s Kakashi Hatake, and he’s an English major. And you tell him your name and major, and he says you’ve got a nice name. When silence falls upon you two, you avert your attention from the conversation to the stores littered all about the city that you’ve never noticed before.
Making conversation, you mention the different shops that interest you. Like, the guitar shop looks really nice, and you’ve thought it would be cool to learn how to play. And he’ll reply with some obscure fact or comment; you see that guitar on the right over there? It's a model from 1963 and he got the same model a couple years back to learn.
From there, you talk about what you were up to a couple years ago. And how you once knew how to play piano, and the music theory class you took in 5th grade. While you rant, he pitches in every once in a while, joking about and assuring you he enjoys listening to you speak.
Kakashi insists on walking you home as the sun starts poking up through between the buildings. By the time you’re back at your apartment, it’s rather bright out and he asks you what time it is.
You pull out your phone, both thankful and disappointed to see no one’s texted you. “7:36.”
“Wait, what?”
You don’t blame his shock, and you flip your phone around to show him the numbers. Bending forward to see, he grabs your phone for a moment.
“Wow, would you look at that. It really is. Also, you seem to have a lock on your phone. This didn’t really go to plan. Uh. I was gonna put my number in. And now we’re here.”
You laugh at him, and he giggles under his breath.
“So, uh…” he trails, returning your phone.
Once you navigate to the ‘new contact’ page, you hand him your phone. He taps in his number and hands it back, his ears burning pink.
“Er, so this was cool. Thanks for hanging out, and sorry for messing up your sleep schedule,” he apologises. “See you in class?”
He glances up at you from the sidewalk.
“Don’t worry about it, I kinda did it to myself. See you in class,” you confirm.
He waves as you head into your apartment. You look back for just a moment to catch him turning around, but he pauses as he takes another peek at you. You wave before turning around for good, giddy at the night’s event and desperately needing a nap.