Gaele: How was the weekend?

Ten2: i'd say peachy but that would be me being sarcastic. i had planned it to be a good time for painting but shit happened,

Gaele: Oh, you paint? This is the first time I'm hearing it.

Ten2: yep i love it. i usually use other media like graphite and colored pencils too but Im more into painting so my medium is acrylic paint

Gaele: Sweet. People who can draw and paint always amaze me with how talented they are in creating a nice picture from scratch. I can't even draw a decent stickman figure to save my life. I have some artist friends and they're really great.

Poll leans his back against the windowsill of the hallway in front of their room as he stares at the reply. This is the first time that Gaele talked about something personal without being asked. If not to answer Ten-Ten's questions, Gaele's usual role in their conversations is to give his opinions about Ten-Ten's stories. It only reinforces the fact that Poll has always been the one who likes to rant to Gaele while the latter just listens. And now, he suspects that it's because of their conversation this past Saturday that Gaele is trying to make him feel less guilty about talking a lot by starting to open up a bit about himself too.

The idea that they have become a little closer puts a smile on Poll's face. He wonders how much they can learn about each other, how far this virtual friendship can go. Will they ever personally meet each other?

Poll would really love to meet Gaele, to know the kind of person he is outside the internet, but he knows it's still early to bring that subject up. They will get there one day. For now, he is content with the kind of relationship they have.

Ten2: how bout you? something you love doing? i get it you dont play games that much so what do you usually do for your pastime?

Gaele: I am not as talented as you are so I read books as a hobby. And I don't know if you can call it a pastime but I like cooking.

Ten2: couldn't be me. i dont have enough patience to read books coz i feel sleepy when i stare at the texts. I only read manga because there are illustrations. i like looking at drawings and i draw anime sometimes. So you cook? well i love eating.

Gaele: Who doesn't love eating? I had no choice but to learn to cook for myself since I live alone.

Ten2: that's cool though. i'm an expert in cooking instant noodles and heating foods in a microwave hehe. do you bake too? My mom is really good at baking because she knows how much i love sweets

"Hey isn't that the Business Ad student whom you have a crush on?"

"Aw, where?"

Poll looks up from his phone and at the window next to him where his female classmates are looking out. He stares at them, amazed that the girls have no qualms about having loud chats about stuff like this.

He shakes his head and turns back to his phone, hoping his classmates will dial it down. He doesn't want to eavesdrop on people's conversations, not especially if it's about someone's crush, although it seems like the women are not too keen on keeping it a secret.

"Yay, it's him," his classmate squeals, giggling, "He looks really cute today too."

"Isn't he Lia's cousin? What's his name again?"

Ears perking up, grip tightening around the phone, Poll still refuses to admit that he is secretly listening to others' conversations. In his defense, his classmates are too close to him and their voices are loud. There is no way he could avoid hearing what they are talking about.

He keeps telling himself that it is not because he is interested, that he doesn't care about that last bit of information, yet when one of the girls answers, "Eujae", he automatically whips around and looks out at the window to confirm if it indeed is the guy.

On the planter box around the mahogany tree not too far away from their college building, the person in question is sitting in a figure four lock pose, weight leaning on his left arm as his hand is pressed against the concrete planter box. He looks laidback with his head slightly angled to the left while he's busy with his phone in his right hand.

Scattered lights are filtered through the tree leaves and bounce off his brunette hair. There are softness and warmth in the person's expression as he fiddles with his phone. Even at a distance, anyone with a 20/20 vision can see the adoration in his eyes and the smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. One can't help but wonder what or who causes him to make the face that screams affection.

Poll shifts, unconsciously taking in the scene in front of him. The view stirs something in him but he can't quite place it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that the same thing had happened before, that it's not the first time he felt whatever he's feeling now.

"God, he's a sight to behold. What I wouldn't give to have him as my drawing subject."

He is relieved to realize that the words didn't come out of his mouth, but at the same time, irritated with himself for even thinking that. "What's so good about him?" he asks out loud, the displeasure in his voice unchecked.

"Ehhh?" The girl with a crush on Eujae looks at Poll in surprise. "What do you mean, Poll? Hey, aren't you friends with Eujae?"

"I mean I don't see why someone would have a crush on him," he answers, ignoring the last question because he finds it a hassle to explain that he and Eujae don't get along despite having the same group of friends. To digress from the point, Poll decides to play it off as a joke and he smiles at his classmate playfully. "I am a lot cuter than him, won't you agree?"

It seems to be effective when the woman laughs. "Oh yeah, sure, you're really cute too, Poll. Let's just say Eujae is more of my type though."

"Ouch. Cut me to the heart."

"Oh c'mon, Poll, we both know I am not your type too," his classmate says, still giggling. "Well, it's not like I have a chance with Eujae either since it seems like he has a girlfriend already."

Curious about both statements, Poll was going to ask her what she thinks his type is and what made her say Eujae has a girlfriend. If the last part is true, he sure has never heard either Tem or Lia talk about it. Not that he wants to know.

Before he can say anything, however, their other classmate cuts in, "Hey, guys, it's almost time for Sir Nieves to arrive. Aren't we going in yet?"

"Oh, yes. How about you, Poll?"

Poll smiles. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute."

He waits until his classmates are gone to their room before his gaze darts back to his phone. He didn't realize that Gaele has already replied.

Gaele: I think I can learn to bake if I actually want to do it, but I am not fond of sweets so I have not cared much about it.

Distractedly, Poll looks back at the mahogany tree outside, unsuspecting of the sight that awaits him. His gaze stops straight into the eyes of the person whom they were talking about earlier. Surprised, he almost drops his phone. He straightens up, heart skipping a bit, as Eujae continues to give him a look that is both cold and intense.

The heck? Since when has he been staring?

Gone is the previous affection on Eujae's face and in its place is an unreadable expression. No glow in his eyes anymore, there is only indifference.

Poll wants to do something, to glare at the guy, to look away, but it is as if his whole body has gotten a mind of its own and won't listen to him. It feels like he's trapped by Eujae's eyes and he can't tear his gaze off them.

He can't determine how long they have been staring at each other, and when the other art students come running into their room, yelling, "Mr. Nieves is here," Poll finally snaps out of the trance.

Fully aware now, Poll gives Eujae a dirty look. He turns away, ignoring the warmth that's starting to creep on his cheeks, and follows his classmates inside their room.

What. Was. That.

"Hey, Poll, where have you–" Nick stops mid-sentence, only to look at his friend skeptically. "You're red. What in the world have you been doing? Were you caught peeking at your crush or something?"

Disconcerted, Poll grumbles a denial and takes his seat. Someone was caught staring alright, but it was not him. More importantly, that person is someone else's crush, not his.