Andrew Young

I always knew human emotions were a troublesome variable. Impossible to calculate. Chaotic. I watched, not participated. But then he appeared.

It all started with shouting in the hallway. “Another stupid fight?” I thought. I closed the book for a second. Stacy. Luke. She was screaming, he was just… enduring. My name floated through the insults. “The nerd.” “The emotionless robot.” “The jerk with glasses.” How original. She dumped him because of his obsession with me, she said. Ridiculous. He didn’t even talk to her.

I didn't intervene. Why? I just watched. It's always the same: drama, crying, guilt, more drama. Humans.

And then… the unexpected. A terse email from the dean: “Temporary transfer.” Great. My space invaded by the same guy who was practically screaming my name through tears a few days ago. Luke Davis. Disaster, in human form.

When he arrived, he looked like a bomb about to explode. Backpack loosely closed, eyes filled with ill-disguised rage. He looked at me. I didn't say anything. I just nodded and went back to reading. That was all.

He walked as if he were treading on enemy soil. He muttered, "It'll only be for a little while." Clumsy. He didn't even know where to put his things. I watched him disassemble without me moving a single muscle.

"What do you study?" he asked. Silence.
"Maybe you're not as horrible as you look," he insisted.

Nothing. I wasn't going to give him what he was looking for. Not yet.

We were just bodies sharing space. He, all emotional chaos and sarcasm. I… I was just me. Immovable. Silent.

But he was watching me. I felt it. He kept doing it. As if he was searching for something inside me.

And the most absurd thing was that I didn't stop him.

For some reason, I let him do it.

Although.. Andrew was sure of something, that.. fool was an omega, he could smell it.