Emma dreaded the coming Monday.

It’s funny how she barely noticed the college student before, but after Jules’ gross admittance, she experienced a whole-body shiver when that boy entered the room. She looked behind her shoulder, and true enough, Takumi West just made it past the room’s threshold, carrying a big backpack over one shoulder and having a black mask over his mouth.

“Oh, look at you, causing trouble without even knowing it,” Emma thought to herself as she silently watched the boy take a seat in the back row. The boy was always one of the very first few to arrive to class after Emma, who would arrive 30 minutes before class.

At a glance, he looked just like any other Asian – on the skinnier side, with jet black fluffy hair and timid behavior. Perhaps she could add that he appeared somewhat fit; the cuts of his clothes, though basic, fit his proportions so well; his hair was styled in a taper fade that implies an amount of fashion awareness. That being said, he blended too much into the background.

Emma wondered how Jules – the sun, the star, the center of the galaxy – even noticed him.

After sitting and putting his bag down, West started a conversation with the neighboring desk. Amy Bale, who was sitting next to him, appeared to be a little distressed.

Then, Takumi West stood up and walked – to Emma’s direction!

She rushed to grab around the desk to appear busy. Next thing she knew, she had the Japanese young man standing in front of her desk. She looked up to meet him in the eye.

They were like two dark chocolate pralines. So dark it was close to black that it painted his whole iris in just one color.

West had a finger pushing his mask down so Emma could see him better. Emma was not expecting someone cute.

“Sorry,” a contrast to his face card, his voice was a surprising deep bass, “Someone forgot their brushes, and I don’t have any spares. Do you have any?”

“Yeah. How many do you need?”

“Uh, as many as we need for today’s class, but 2 should be a good number to start”. He signaled to the back row as he said this.

“She should get them herself, you know?”

“Yeah, but she’s a little shy”.

Emma knew Amy Bale secretly left a card with a note explaining her heartfelt love to Jules without leaving her name, making her one of the 10 students from this class who had asked Jules out. The thing was, her handwriting alone was enough tell-tale sign of who she was, leaving both Emma and Jules with no mystery whatsoever on the identity of the confessor.

“Here you go,” Emma handed the brushes to Takumi’s open hand.

“Thank you,” he walked back to his seat. Amy clasped her two hands in front of her chest in gratitude.

More and more students filled the room. Soon, it was 5 minutes after 9.

And then, the door opened.

Jules breezed past with a, “Good morning”, said in a soft melody. Her employer had always been masterful in making his arrival a performance, down to the planned 5-minute lateness.

Emma was happy to see that Jules wore the shirt she had purchased for him. It was loose in all the right spots, paired with sand-colored pleated trousers and a long tan trench coat. His shoulder-length gold tresses were pulled up to a messy bun; a look made complete with a pair of slim-framed glasses. The tall omega then carelessly threw his designer leather bag to his desk and walked around so he could stand in front of his desk, with his hip attached to the desk top and his attention to the class.

“Exciting news, I’m bored. So we’re doing freestyle painting”.

The class protested in a chorus. Being mostly STEM students, they had very little experience to freestyle. “Now, now, lets not be a child about it,” Jules chided lightly as he dragged his large canvas to the center of the U-shaped formation of the desks and started to demonstrate painting in the flashiest way only Jules could pull.

“How did you do that?” Someone asked from the front row, "That doesn’t look like an impromptu".

“If you’re any good like me, anything accidental can be a masterpiece,” Jules was always so casual with his students; from how he insisted they all call him ‘Jules’, to how he just seemed to remember everyone’s first names. “One moment you’re thinking of drawing the hair of the person sitting in front of you; perhaps they’re red, with brown roots and dead ends,” some kids laughed at that, “And then when you’re almost done, you have an idea and you just paint everything pink and paint an elephant out of it. That’s the beauty of freestyle – there are really no rules!”

Everyone started complaining. “What if I start with a blob and end with an uglier blob?”

“Then say that it’s your take on the moon or something, I don’t know, Sandeep!” Jules shrugged, “It doesn’t matter what I think, it’s what you think; what you see”. Sandeep visibly blushed. The IT student had gone a long way, being the first to approach Jules to confess his love despite his shyness.

The chaos calmed to a focused silence. Everyone put their mind onto their canvas. Julian started his stroll around the class, tailed closely by Emma. Emma normally stayed by their desk, but there was a gnawing feeling inside her telling her to keep an eye on her employer.

“Pink! Cute,” was Jules passing comment at Amy Bale. The girl barely had anything started on her canvas, yet those words were enough to send her into a heap of squeaks and trembles. Feeling sympathetic, Emma put a kind hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“I love that shade of pink,” she said, making Amy go all googly-eyed at her. “Keep it up!”

She returned to her task of shadowing her boss, only to realize that the next desk was where Jules’ object of affection sat.

And Jules was…

Serious. Unlike the character he played out in front of the other students, this Jules stood calmly behind West’s chair, a hand propped casually on one point of the chair as he watched West paint. He seemed to be saying something, and Emma caught him making a tender expression.

“Is that me? Haha, Takumi, do you like me?”

Emma froze at that. True enough, there was a silhouette of a person in West’s painting, but for Jules to say that it was of himself was so far-fetched. Emma was quick to tap her boss on the shoulder. “Oi,” she half-scolded.

“Right, right. I'd better get going and finish my little patrol,” Julian muttered as he stood to his full height and moved along, only to say a quick, “Oh, you’re in trouble, Jean; who said mixing purple and red is a good idea?” to the next person.

“That could count as harassment”.

“What? All I did was give him directions on how to improve his work”.

“Yeah. Right. Flirting with a student? He can report you”.

“I did not do anything worth reporting, geez!”

They spoke through gritted teeth and harsh whispers as the students exited the room one by one. A few of them lingered to have a few words with Jules. In each one, Emma saw desire, admiration; a desperation to be recognized by the star. She and Jules also had a silent bet on whether someone would confess to him after each class. Emma’s bet was on Christa Willis.

But soon, the number of students who stayed behind dwindled to three. After the two left with giggles after taking a few pictures with Jules for their Instagram, only one was left. Boy, she did not expect him.

“Jules, do you have time? I’d like to speak to you, if that’s alright,” Takumi West stood by their desk, posture straight yet with his head bowed slightly.

No, Emma thought in horror, what are you doing!?

“Yes?” Julian was standing on the opposite end of the desk, feigning obliviousness but Emma could taste the excitement rolling out of him.

“I really…,” Takumi said, but took a deep breath and started again, “I know I have no place to say this, but I really admire you and what you do”.

He is doing it, Emma couldn’t believe it, this is actually happening.

“I’ve always thought doing art is something foolish, let alone doing it professionally. You proved me wrong. Seeing you, learning from you in this class, taught me otherwise and I admire you for it. And I am a student in your class, but I’ve been holding this feeling for you. I deeply admire you – actually, I lo -…,” his words and tone had been clear and straightforward until he faltered, but both Emma and Jules heard the first syllable at the end of that sentence. West lifted his gaze to meet Jules’, and it was then that Emma realized he didn’t have his mask on. The gaze he pointed at Jules was that of awe; of pure admiration.

Emma thought Jules did not deserve such praise.

West ceased from continuing his last sentence. Instead, he pressed a tiny book into Jules’ hand. “Please accept this,” he said to Jules, who took it absently. The younger then bowed his head yet again before excusing himself. He half ran to the door, and left without any further word, leaving Jules and Emma to gape dumbly at the exit.

A full minute later, Julian’s shoulders shook before he cackled loudly to the whole room. Emma deadpanned at her employer’s antics, but that did not stop Jules from reveling in his victory. “Oh, Emma! You hear that,” he turned to her, eyes turning purple to signal the prime omega in him rising to the surface, “Now get to work, my dear. We have a beta to catch”.