Alex's POV

I was at the campus cafe waiting for John.

My eyes wandered around the place. The tiny cafe huddled despondent among the huge city buildings. Washed out under the overcast sky, it hunched in itself, fighting against the drizzle. Hundreds of people rushed by it, outside on the crowded street. The half a dozen customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of cold wind. Unlike the outside, the interior of the café was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colourful walls. It was an enjoyable place. It showed off an artistic vibe. The smell of freshly made coffee, the beautiful pieces of art hanging from the walls.

I'm kind of a big fan of art too. Althought writting takes up most of my time, I really enjoy to visit art museums and just look at paintings for hours. Sometimes a painting could express how you are feeing at a given moment better than any words can. As if art speaks where words are unable to explain.

Well going back to the lovely cafe. It was the perfect place to relax and maybe read a book or two. I should come back here someday.

Then I saw John enter accompained by... two other guys?

We locked our eyes. He smiled and walked towards me. Followed by the other two boys.

"Hi Alex, I hope you didn't wait for too long" John said "These are my friends Lafayette and Herc-"

"HERCULES MULLIGAN I NEED NO INTRODUCTION" shouted the guy with the bandanna on his forehead.

I wonder if he introduces himself like that everytime. I saw John roll his eyes.

" oui oui mon ami je m'appelle Lafayette" (yes yes my friend my name is Lafayette) said the caramel-skin color guy who was obviously french.

Good thing I'm fluent in french

"Ravi de vous rencontrer, mon nom est Alexander" (Nice to meet you, my name is Alexander).

"Nice, fluent in french huh? you are just as great as little Jhonny here described you" Lafayette said and winked at John who was by now blushing.

So, John talked about me?

"Laff!" John shouted/said in embarrassment.

I blushed a little at the thought.

"You are also great John, and cute" I said unconsciously. My mouth working faster than my head. As you may notice I always say what I believe even when I shouldn't. Soon this attitude may be my doom.

"Thank you.." he said as he looked away. His cheeks tainted pink.

"I'm sorry to interrup this" Hercules smirked "but my boyfriend and I have to get to class now" he said.

"Oui. It was nice meeting you Alex. See you around" Lafayette smiled at me and took Herc's hand "let's go chère"

They left the coffee house holding hands. They were nice, I hope I can get to be their friend.

I turned my gaze to John "Would you like me to order something for you?" I asked him.

"Hmm a white chocolate mocha would be nice" John replied.

So he likes sweet things huh?

"Sure I'll get it for you. Wait for me" I said and headed to the counter.

John's POV

Oh my god he's so hot. God if I wasn't already gay. I'd be gay for him. Handsome boy, does he know it? That long brown hair tied in a perfect ponytail and those dark mysterious eyes full of determination. They were a deep, earthy brown - the color of the earth after torrential rains. But there was something else in them, something glistening. Glistening like an old copper penny being examined in the warmth next to powerful flames that were licking the safety glass door of an old fireplace. They held secrets, the same way a pot holds layers of deep soil- cradling- because it is essential to keep the plant safe. The roots are held in place the same way his dark, liquidy eyes held so tightly onto his secrets.

Since the moment I saw him I felt something new and exciting inside me. I hadn't felt this way in a long time. I can tell that he's not someone you find in the street everyday. He's special.

The way he bravely volunteered for that cabinet meeting thing...I would have never had the guts to do something like that.

He's so unpredictable yet trustable. He gaves me this feeling of wanting to discover new sides of him.

I suggested to show him around but my main goal was to spend more time with him.. I really want to get close to him.

Back to ma boi Alex's POV

I ordered the white chocolate mocha John asked for and an expresso, my favorite.

"I'm back" I said and handed him his mocha

"Thank you oh- here's the money" he hurriedly touched his pockets in search for his wallet.

"No need. This one goes on me. As a thanks for being so nice to me"

"Thank you." John said as he scratched the back of his neck. Then he pointed at my drink "an expresso?"

"Yes. It is my favorite. It helps me to stay awake when I have to stay up all night" Without a conscious thought my hand brings the expresso to my mouth and the first sip creeps over my taste-buds and down my throat.

"Why would you pull an all-nighter?" He asked. Tilting his head to the side just little bit. Like how a child would do.

"Well I usually just write all night. You know writting is one of my passions" I felt my eyes lit up as those words left my mouth.

"Oh what do you write about?" He asked.

"Basically about everything I see or feel. I also do poetry. I even have a journal full of all the poems and letters I've written since I was 14" I said with a proud tone in my voice. That old journal is the only thing I've kept from my hometown. Even though it holds some hard memories, thanks to it I was able to come to NYC. The important person who gave me the scholarship read it and became fascinated by my writting skills. Therefore he offered me the opportunity to attend to King's College in order to make a good use of my talents.

I focused my attention to John who seemed lost in thought. He then looked at me with a cheeky smile "Oh~ So is it kind of like a diary?" he said jokingly with a smirk.

"Journal!" I hissed slightly embarrassed.

"Alex has a diary ~~" joked John

We looked at each other and bursted out in laugher. I couldn't help but notice the cute smile decorating his cheeks as he laughed. People think of laughing as a noise that comes from the mouth, but when John laughed it was nothing like that. The laugh was in his eyes, in the way his face changed into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. Yet truly, it wasn't in his face either. His laugh came from within, it was just the way he was wired. People like him just have more flexible brains, like all that humour bubbling around in him was like yoga for the synapses. Just being around him for a few minutes was better than a whole day of self-absorbed pampering in some all-day-spar. Just the sound of his gales, his snickers, his giggles, was enough to transport me far far away from my worries and the tension this modern life.

"From your collection of poems, do you have a favorite one?", asked John after his laugher had died out

"I do! From all the ones I've written I'm proud to say my favorite one is titled The Story of Tonight, I remember I wrote it when I was feeling a sense of freedom"

"Awesome! I would love to read it if I'm given the chance" his eyes sparked with excitenment

"Sure. I'll show it to you someday" I replied with just as much enthusiasm

.

.

We spent most of the day at the cafe talking.

I discovered many things about John.

He's from South Carolina, him and his family moved to New York city when he was 12. He had a younger sister named Martha.

He dislikes coffee. Something I can't understand to be honest. He likes to draw, his favorite food are cinnamon rolls and his dream is to inspire people just like the revolutionary american soldier, Anthony Ramos did.

I've not heard much about that Ramos guy but it looks like he had great ideals. Such as the abolism of slavery. He never got to see his dream come true because he died but John respects him for standing up for people who couldn't and speak against slavery

"The beauty of standing up for your rights is, others see you standing and stand up as well" John said.

He also has this strange obsession with turtles. I think it is adorable though.

We didn't talk as much about me because you know.. I'm trying to have a low key profile so I tried to avoid any personal questions that involved my background but because I didn't want to be too obvious or seem suspicious I made up a quick lies hinting that I was born in New York and had a regular family just like everyone else.

But even though half of what I said about me were lies I still enjoyed to have a conversation with me. It was odd for me to make a connection so fast, to give my trust so easily, tentative though it was. There was something in the way he smiled, a warmth, a genuineness, a softness of spirit I just couldn't pass up. He listened like he was absorbing my words, not simply getting me "turn" over and done with so he could return to some other topic. The more time I spent with him the more my spirit lifted, he was the new friend I'd needed for so long. He listens as if my words are golden, perhaps some elixir he's been waiting all his days to hear.

From what he says next I can tell he is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that's several moves ahead of what I am capable of. And in his words are a kindness, a concern that is so quick that, for him, it is natural. This attentiveness is apart of who he is and that is, if I'm honest, the most attractive feature I've seen in a man for quite some time. And as the hours go by it becomes the best conversation I've ever had too, it flows, with listening and intelligent responses.

I turned my head to the side glacing at the window. I felt my mouth twitch when I noticed it was dark outside.

"John it is getting kind of late. I think we should call it a day." I said as I stood up from my seat

"Right. I'm sorry I didn't get to give you a tour around the area. It was what I was supposed to do" he looked down at the ground as if it was his fault.

"hey don't make a sad face. I had a great time just by talking with you. Plus your smile is so much beautiful" I said. Again me just talking without thinking. I was about to apologize when I looked down to see John's cheeks being kissed pink like a spring rose, the blooming colour so cute against his freckled skin.

I felt the urge to make him blush a little bit more.

"Not everyday I get to spend my day with such cutie" I winked at him

At writting. At debating. And even at flirting. I'm the best.

"A-alex what are you saying" he covered his blushing face with his hands. Not only his cheeks, but his whole face turned red. Though the ears had been hidden among the messy curls of his hair, it was obvious that they were as rosy as his face.

I chucked. Well I should stop. I don't want to make him uncomfortable.

"We should get going. I don't have morning classes tomorrow but you might?" I asked.

"You guessed it right. Ugh I don't want to listen to Mr. Lee's lecture. His voice makes me soo sleepy." He pouted

"There there. I'm sure you'll make it through class" I said as I patted his head

"Hey I'm older than you ~ Don't treat me like a child" he complained

"Hmph age is only a number. Let's get out of here"

"Okay" John agreed.

We walked outside the coffee house and said our goodbyes.

"I had a great time" I said, a smile plastered on my face, "Thank you for today"

"I did as well Alex. See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow"

Then we parted ways.

-Time skip-

I was lying on my bed unable to sleep. Thinking of whatever stuff that came to my mind. I usually sleep really late or not sleep at all because I can only sleep when the night my mother died sleeping became a luxury for me.

Insomnia haunts my nights; fatigue rules my days. When I need to be lucid and clear my brain begs for unconsciousness, for sleep at any price. But come the hours of darkness in the comfort of my bed, my mind lights up with new possibilities, new sources of disaster and danger. I want to let them go, to count sheep and relax, but soon the sheep are telling me what can go wrong tomorrow because of some avoidable blunder I made today. When I finally sleep I wake after only a couple of fitful hours and wake as if a whole night had passed, but it hasn't. I wish I could be one of those people who roll over and doze off but I can't. I can either lie in my bed watching the colour slowly seep back into the walls, waiting for the dawn chorus, or I can get up. Sometimes I curl up in my pyjamas with my laptop, other times I get dressed and go downtown to a late night club or bar. But of course, alone.

Then two faces came up to my mind. Those guys Laffayete and Hercules seemed cool. I wonder if they like night clubs or bars. I hope I'll see them around often. I can't wait to see John again either.

They say to give and not expect to receive; For friendship is love and love cannot be a transaction, a trade. For love can expand as air can, fill any void no matter the amount. Love is healthy when given freely, altruistic, empathic and with gentleness of spirit. Those words I can't understand. How can a person learn to give so much with so little returned and still never expect any help or kindness? Maybe the way is to feel the joy that comes from giving, the way the universe rewards such beautiful ways. Perhaps that's how bad situations become good, over time, by letting nature love you, by letting the heart win. I hope so, I really do. But with everything that I have done.. Do I even deserve to love? Do I deserve to be loved?

A sigh escaped my mouth easing my muscles and letting the complicated thoughts go before they consume my brain. Overthinking will do no good.

I should try to at least get one hour of sleep.

End of chapter 2