2025-07-10, 03:51 PM
1. Monday
Actually, it started like any other day. I mean, getting up early in the morning, as I always swung myself out of bed with so much vigour, so as not to miss a single French lesson, although French was already coming out of me anyway. But this time at school it was somehow different. Cathy, my secret love, came up to me and asked me about the maths homework again. As if I had done it! I have nothing better to do. Actually, she was a poor soul, it wasn't her fault she was bad at maths, somehow she was no good at anything. But although I was considered a nerd because I just didn't want to have anything to do with those idiot boys who had nothing better to do all day than plan their next party and hit on the next best woman, I wasn't the best at maths either. Somehow, these completely anti-social boys got on my nerves. I think they have no hobbies except for one or two things and have to vent their pent-up energies, which were built up because of their anti-social parents and siblings (if they had any), on other people (like me). It was obvious that I was suitable, the way I look: I just don't have the right appearance: long blonde hair, about shoulder length, blue eyes with a green jacket and black or white corduroy trousers; buttons with skulls and Vans.
‘Hello Cillian, are you still there?’ Cathy asked me.
‘Oh, uh, yes... no... sure...’
"Math????’
‘Oh, no, not me. Sorry,‘ I stammered, torn from my thoughts.
’Ok, I'll do my morning rounds. I'll see who has it.’
I winked at her and concentrated on what I had just thought. Something about anti-social people, but our teacher came in just then. Well, now it was time for biology – and it was a double period, too.
During the break, I was sitting on a bench when someone tapped me on the back. Surprised, I turned around and was about to greet Cathy, because she probably hadn't understood biology. We had covered some kind of model of a DNA molecule. But it wasn't her after all. Surprised, I looked up at a boy, quite skinny and shy, I would guess him to be 15 to 16, so a year younger than me. He had such blonde hair that it almost looked white again, a rather angular face with stark contours, like that of a hawk. He looked really super handsome, I already envied him.
‘Hi.‘
’Um, hi. Sit down.‘
He sat down next to me.
’What do you want?’ I asked. There's no need to be polite right away.
‘Oh, nothing. I just wanted to make conversation.’ Great, just when I wanted to eat my lunch. Probably some smart-ass who wanted money. I'd better stay on my guard, maybe he was one of those drug dealers. The little ones start swallowing and dealing this stuff in the 7th grade. All right, let's see.
‘Ok, go ahead.‘
’What kind of music do you listen to?‘
’All kinds, mostly rock.‘
’Do you know Tocotronic?‘ he asked.
’I've heard of them. Do you like them?’ People who listen to this kind of music don't usually deal drugs. I started to become a little friendlier.
‘I love this band. There's a song called ‘The Idea is Good, but the World Isn't Ready Yet’ and it's about talking to people on the street and inviting them in. Maybe they have a problem and want to talk about it.‘
’I see. I'm assuming that you have a problem?‘ I asked.
’What makes you think that?’
‘Oh, nothing. It's the same with a lot of people. I can put myself in other people's shoes.‘ That was really true!
’Yes, well... it's true, I do have a problem."
The bell rang. The break was over.
‘Call me, kid, here's my number, and just come by sometime, I'm always here. I live at 34 Dorothea-Erxleben-Straße. Bye,’ I said, feeling a little uncomfortable. What am I, a counsellor or something? He got up and left without saying a word.
And sure enough, that same afternoon at three o'clock he was standing on my doorstep. Strangely enough, he had made up his eyes – in black. It looked quite good on him, so I immediately asked him why he didn't do it at school.
‘Oh, the others would just push me away even more,’ he replied sadly.
‘That's where the wind blows. You want to be friends and you've picked me out of all people?‘
’You really can put yourself in someone else's shoes. I've watched you a lot. You stand around alone and read a book. You have just as few friends as I do,’ he said.
I was surprised that he mentioned it. Normally no one spoke to me about it. Normally no one spoke to me without a specific reason that had something to do with homework or school. It should be fine with me. Whatever.
"What's your name anyway? And how old are you? I think you should tell me.’
‘My name is...’ Before he could finish the name, I had already tried to guess it. I guessed that his name was Jannik.
‘Chris... and I'm...‘ he tried to continue. Well okay, I could be wrong about my knowledge of human nature.
’16 years old. And you?‘
’I'm Cillian and I'm 17 years old. Welcome to my room."
Somehow he was cute, quite shy, but still waters run deep. I knew that only too well.
2.
Tuesday
The next day Chris avoided me quite a bit. Apparently he was a bit embarrassed, he didn't even know what had made him just approach me. Yesterday was actually quite fun, we talked about pretty much everything and laughed a lot until he had to leave around 9:00 p.m. I also had something to do, but he became more and more relaxed and laughed more and more. Otherwise, the day had been normal, holidays would be soon. Finally. I had waited for too long, but it took so long. Fortunately, there were holidays next week. I was already counting the days, today was Tuesday. Nevertheless, it annoyed me somehow that he kept looking at me when he was just standing there like a drowned rat in the schoolyard and had nothing to do. He kept looking at me, his eyes almost devouring me. It was clear that I was annoyed; I need at least some peace and quiet when I'm reading. So I went up to him and greeted him.
‘Hey.’
"Hi.’
‘How are you? I'm fine. You weren't so shy yesterday either, were you? I mean, today you keep looking at me and thinking I won't notice!‘
’I'm... I'm sorry.’ He looked down in shame. My God, is he afraid of me or what?
Suddenly, two yobs, no older than he was, probably a bit younger, came up and slapped him on the back. He winced a bit because he was startled, but luckily it didn't hurt him. Then he looked at the ground.
‘Well, kid? Got another one?‘ They walked away laughing and I stood there totally dumbfounded, embarrassed for not having intervened. He almost started crying. You could see how hard he was holding back his tears.
’What was that about? Should I take care of them?’
‘Oh no, don't worry about it. They do it all the time. If you just do nothing, they'll leave me alone,‘ he said angrily.
’And what did they want from you?’
‘HAVE YOU NOT HEARD?’ he suddenly shouted at me and ran off towards the toilet. At first I wanted to run after him, but then I left it. I knew such a situation from myself only too well, when I was insulted with whatever. I wanted to be alone then too. Besides, the bell rang, I had to go in, because I still had a maths test ahead of me.
Our maths lesson went by relatively quickly. Our teacher, Mr Schöll, gave us a test and then, in his usual bad mood, said, ‘No questions’, in his oh-so-perfect High German, which he always raved about. And worms. Every lesson he compared the numbers with worms. Of course the test was a failure, but that didn't bother me. I could only think of Chris. What had those hooligans said again? It didn't matter, now I had music and then school was over. So I waited for the liberating bell, but I had already packed my things 10 minutes before, because I really wanted to catch Chris. He had told me where he lived, so I assumed that he would leave at the main entrance, because it was just closer to his street. That was trouble, because I had to unpack my things, which I then immediately packed up again. Our annoyed music teacher then also had to say:
‘Cillian, can you please stay here after class?’
As if I had a choice. Nevertheless, I tried.
‘But I have to hurry, Mr Wagner.’
"What's so important?’
I searched for an answer quickly. Sweat was beading on my forehead.
‘Um... I...’ But I couldn't get any further.
"Please stay after class.’
Just what I needed. Of course, the usual nonsense like ‘I'm disappointed in you’ and ‘Try harder!’ The whole thing lasted a full quarter of an hour. I walked out of the main entrance resigned and had no more hope that he would be there by chance. But there he was at the bus stop: I tapped him on the shoulder because he had his back to me. I started talking before he turned around.
‘Hey, what happened today...’
Shit! I hate confusing people. There's nothing more embarrassing.
‘Excuse me?’ It wasn't Chris standing in front of me.
‘Sorry, I confused you,’ I muttered and walked on.
Just as I was about to insert my key into the door, everything went black and I felt hands close in on my vision. Someone was playing a joke on me and covering my eyes.
"Well?’
‘Hi Chris.‘ Phew, I was glad that he approached me on his own. I carefully took his hands in mine and turned around. I didn't even notice that I was still holding his hands.
’Listen, about this afternoon. I mean, you know...’
‘It's okay. I won't ask any questions. I know the drill,’ I winked at him. He visibly let out a sigh of relief. He quickly kissed me on the cheek and only then realised what had happened. He immediately ran away. I stood there resigned and just looked after him for a very long time.
Wednesday
Chris wasn't at school. I couldn't stop thinking about him though. What did that mean yesterday? Ok, I'm not exactly the type to be affectionate with friends and kiss them on the cheek, but if some of them do it out of friendship, that's fine by me! It was just strange that he ran away then. It was probably all a bit too much for him. I went to his house in the afternoon and rang the doorbell.
A nice young woman opened the door for me.
‘Hello. I'm Chris's friend and I'm here to give him his homework.’
"Chris mentioned something like that, but he didn't tell me that he wanted homework from you. Tell me, are you new to Chris's class? I'm Alex, by the way, come on in. Chris is upstairs in his room. Right turn and then straight ahead.’
I was glad she forgot about the class thing, because I didn't really want to lie. But how else was I going to get in? With a cheese platter and say, ‘Room service, your brother kissed me?’
‘Thank you.’
‘Oh, and don't tell Chris I let you in, he doesn't want to talk to you.’
"You're welcome.’
‘Call me ‘you’. I'm not that old.‘
’Thanks, Alex."
I knocked on the room with the bright orange door. Someone called out “come in” and I slowly opened the door. His voice changed abruptly, became hoarse, and he began to tremble very gently and slightly. Nevertheless, he wanted to try to remain calm, which he did not succeed in doing.
‘What do you want?‘
’I want to talk to you,‘ I said.
’There's nothing to talk about.’
‘Yes, there is, and you probably know that better than I do.’ I sat down next to him on the bed and took a good look around. Dragons were painted on the grass-green walls of the room. It looked beautiful, there were three in total, one on each wall, huge and beautiful, almost perfect. A simple, somewhat wide bed stood against one wall. Only now did I notice that there was an angel on the blanket. One of those with a sword and shield in his hand, ready for battle, in crisp armour. It was the most beautiful picture I had ever seen. Otherwise there was a desk under a window and a few cupboards in the room. There wasn't really anything else to see. It was quite sparse, but the drawings made it so beautiful. He noticed that I was very surprised.
‘I drew that.‘
’It's... beautiful.‘
’Thank you.‘
I almost forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. But then I remembered.
’So, what I wanted to say...’
‘I already know. You don't want to have anything more to do with me. It happens to me with many. Suddenly, luck overcomes me and it's too late. Well, I'll just look for new friends.‘
’First of all, I'm really offended.’
‘Oh?‘ Suddenly he became really cold. But that was just his mask to hide what was going on inside him.
’I'm offended because apparently I'm just replaceable with some other idiots as a friend. And secondly, your previous friends must have been great if they freak out right away at something like that.’
He looked at me with wide eyes. Cute, those puppy dog eyes. He didn't know what to say, so he just started crying. The tears ran down his face without a sound. I held him in my arms. He must have had terrible friends if that made him cry!
‘Thank you,‘ he whispered shakily. I just enjoyed feeling his warmth. I had a friend. And now I had to cry too. Finally someone I could trust with everything.
’I want us to stay friends.‘
’Yeah, me too,‘ he replied. “You know what?”
’No, how could you?’ I laughed.
He bent over me to the bedside table and rummaged in some drawer. Somehow the feeling of him lying on top of me was both beautiful and oppressive at the same time. Then he pulled out a bound folder and handed it to me. When I opened it, I was thrilled. He noticed it and his eyes sparkled.
"You're the first person I'm showing it to.’
I was honoured. The folder contained such beautiful pictures. Entire battles of creatures, giant lizards, orcs, humans, dragons, angels. It looked breathtaking. Even the smallest person in the far corner of the battle was painted with such attention to detail that I almost fainted from enchantment. And that was just the first picture. The second picture was just as good: a huge castle made of diamonds, all in black and white, but you could still see the sparkle so well, as if it were real.
‘That's... beautiful,’ I said, as I had with the murals. Only now did I wonder how he could paint this angel on the ceiling! It must have been hard enough, but then so perfect!
‘You should send some of these pictures to companies that have something to do with magic and stuff. You'd be on the front page!‘
’Thank you.‘ He blushed a little because he wasn't used to it.
’You can keep them. I have several of them. It's my only hobby.‘
I was really flabbergasted. I could keep them!
’I can't accept that!’
‘Then I'll make you,’ he laughed loudly. Suddenly he pounced on me and tickled me. Then we laughed so hard that we would have laughed even if someone had thrown a toothbrush at us. After a quarter of an hour, we were doubled over on the floor, looking at each other. If we hadn't started laughing and giggling again right away, I would have said there was something romantic about the moment. Somehow I liked Chris more and more. With every second, I grew fonder of him.
"Ok, now it's...hehe...good...phew, that was exhausting.’
‘Laughing makes your abs...,‘ I giggled a little.
’Great, then you should come every day,’ he said, pulling up his T-shirt to show off his stomach. He already had a slight (slight!!!) six-pack. And a beautiful, tanned stomach. I almost lost my eyes. Of course, I had peeked at the other boys in the changing room and they had a much bigger six-pack and also browner skin, but his belly looked so beautiful and delicate. He realised that I was staring and pulled his T-shirt back down.
‘Oh... Um... well,’ I began to stammer, but he shook his head and just said,
‘Oh, never mind. We're even.’ As he said this, he winked at me. I smiled a little painfully.
‘Come on, it doesn't matter. And if it does, then you'll just think it's beautiful or who knows what.‘ He smiled, which made me smile too. To quickly change the subject, I came back to his folder. I looked at it again, and he noticed the sparkle in my eyes again.
’Listen, I really can't accept this.’
‘Don't talk such bullshit. I gave them to you, and a gift is a gift...‘
’...a gift. I know,‘ I finished the sentence. I was really glad that he gave them to me, because I don't think I could live without them.
Actually, it started like any other day. I mean, getting up early in the morning, as I always swung myself out of bed with so much vigour, so as not to miss a single French lesson, although French was already coming out of me anyway. But this time at school it was somehow different. Cathy, my secret love, came up to me and asked me about the maths homework again. As if I had done it! I have nothing better to do. Actually, she was a poor soul, it wasn't her fault she was bad at maths, somehow she was no good at anything. But although I was considered a nerd because I just didn't want to have anything to do with those idiot boys who had nothing better to do all day than plan their next party and hit on the next best woman, I wasn't the best at maths either. Somehow, these completely anti-social boys got on my nerves. I think they have no hobbies except for one or two things and have to vent their pent-up energies, which were built up because of their anti-social parents and siblings (if they had any), on other people (like me). It was obvious that I was suitable, the way I look: I just don't have the right appearance: long blonde hair, about shoulder length, blue eyes with a green jacket and black or white corduroy trousers; buttons with skulls and Vans.
‘Hello Cillian, are you still there?’ Cathy asked me.
‘Oh, uh, yes... no... sure...’
"Math????’
‘Oh, no, not me. Sorry,‘ I stammered, torn from my thoughts.
’Ok, I'll do my morning rounds. I'll see who has it.’
I winked at her and concentrated on what I had just thought. Something about anti-social people, but our teacher came in just then. Well, now it was time for biology – and it was a double period, too.
During the break, I was sitting on a bench when someone tapped me on the back. Surprised, I turned around and was about to greet Cathy, because she probably hadn't understood biology. We had covered some kind of model of a DNA molecule. But it wasn't her after all. Surprised, I looked up at a boy, quite skinny and shy, I would guess him to be 15 to 16, so a year younger than me. He had such blonde hair that it almost looked white again, a rather angular face with stark contours, like that of a hawk. He looked really super handsome, I already envied him.
‘Hi.‘
’Um, hi. Sit down.‘
He sat down next to me.
’What do you want?’ I asked. There's no need to be polite right away.
‘Oh, nothing. I just wanted to make conversation.’ Great, just when I wanted to eat my lunch. Probably some smart-ass who wanted money. I'd better stay on my guard, maybe he was one of those drug dealers. The little ones start swallowing and dealing this stuff in the 7th grade. All right, let's see.
‘Ok, go ahead.‘
’What kind of music do you listen to?‘
’All kinds, mostly rock.‘
’Do you know Tocotronic?‘ he asked.
’I've heard of them. Do you like them?’ People who listen to this kind of music don't usually deal drugs. I started to become a little friendlier.
‘I love this band. There's a song called ‘The Idea is Good, but the World Isn't Ready Yet’ and it's about talking to people on the street and inviting them in. Maybe they have a problem and want to talk about it.‘
’I see. I'm assuming that you have a problem?‘ I asked.
’What makes you think that?’
‘Oh, nothing. It's the same with a lot of people. I can put myself in other people's shoes.‘ That was really true!
’Yes, well... it's true, I do have a problem."
The bell rang. The break was over.
‘Call me, kid, here's my number, and just come by sometime, I'm always here. I live at 34 Dorothea-Erxleben-Straße. Bye,’ I said, feeling a little uncomfortable. What am I, a counsellor or something? He got up and left without saying a word.
And sure enough, that same afternoon at three o'clock he was standing on my doorstep. Strangely enough, he had made up his eyes – in black. It looked quite good on him, so I immediately asked him why he didn't do it at school.
‘Oh, the others would just push me away even more,’ he replied sadly.
‘That's where the wind blows. You want to be friends and you've picked me out of all people?‘
’You really can put yourself in someone else's shoes. I've watched you a lot. You stand around alone and read a book. You have just as few friends as I do,’ he said.
I was surprised that he mentioned it. Normally no one spoke to me about it. Normally no one spoke to me without a specific reason that had something to do with homework or school. It should be fine with me. Whatever.
"What's your name anyway? And how old are you? I think you should tell me.’
‘My name is...’ Before he could finish the name, I had already tried to guess it. I guessed that his name was Jannik.
‘Chris... and I'm...‘ he tried to continue. Well okay, I could be wrong about my knowledge of human nature.
’16 years old. And you?‘
’I'm Cillian and I'm 17 years old. Welcome to my room."
Somehow he was cute, quite shy, but still waters run deep. I knew that only too well.
2.
Tuesday
The next day Chris avoided me quite a bit. Apparently he was a bit embarrassed, he didn't even know what had made him just approach me. Yesterday was actually quite fun, we talked about pretty much everything and laughed a lot until he had to leave around 9:00 p.m. I also had something to do, but he became more and more relaxed and laughed more and more. Otherwise, the day had been normal, holidays would be soon. Finally. I had waited for too long, but it took so long. Fortunately, there were holidays next week. I was already counting the days, today was Tuesday. Nevertheless, it annoyed me somehow that he kept looking at me when he was just standing there like a drowned rat in the schoolyard and had nothing to do. He kept looking at me, his eyes almost devouring me. It was clear that I was annoyed; I need at least some peace and quiet when I'm reading. So I went up to him and greeted him.
‘Hey.’
"Hi.’
‘How are you? I'm fine. You weren't so shy yesterday either, were you? I mean, today you keep looking at me and thinking I won't notice!‘
’I'm... I'm sorry.’ He looked down in shame. My God, is he afraid of me or what?
Suddenly, two yobs, no older than he was, probably a bit younger, came up and slapped him on the back. He winced a bit because he was startled, but luckily it didn't hurt him. Then he looked at the ground.
‘Well, kid? Got another one?‘ They walked away laughing and I stood there totally dumbfounded, embarrassed for not having intervened. He almost started crying. You could see how hard he was holding back his tears.
’What was that about? Should I take care of them?’
‘Oh no, don't worry about it. They do it all the time. If you just do nothing, they'll leave me alone,‘ he said angrily.
’And what did they want from you?’
‘HAVE YOU NOT HEARD?’ he suddenly shouted at me and ran off towards the toilet. At first I wanted to run after him, but then I left it. I knew such a situation from myself only too well, when I was insulted with whatever. I wanted to be alone then too. Besides, the bell rang, I had to go in, because I still had a maths test ahead of me.
Our maths lesson went by relatively quickly. Our teacher, Mr Schöll, gave us a test and then, in his usual bad mood, said, ‘No questions’, in his oh-so-perfect High German, which he always raved about. And worms. Every lesson he compared the numbers with worms. Of course the test was a failure, but that didn't bother me. I could only think of Chris. What had those hooligans said again? It didn't matter, now I had music and then school was over. So I waited for the liberating bell, but I had already packed my things 10 minutes before, because I really wanted to catch Chris. He had told me where he lived, so I assumed that he would leave at the main entrance, because it was just closer to his street. That was trouble, because I had to unpack my things, which I then immediately packed up again. Our annoyed music teacher then also had to say:
‘Cillian, can you please stay here after class?’
As if I had a choice. Nevertheless, I tried.
‘But I have to hurry, Mr Wagner.’
"What's so important?’
I searched for an answer quickly. Sweat was beading on my forehead.
‘Um... I...’ But I couldn't get any further.
"Please stay after class.’
Just what I needed. Of course, the usual nonsense like ‘I'm disappointed in you’ and ‘Try harder!’ The whole thing lasted a full quarter of an hour. I walked out of the main entrance resigned and had no more hope that he would be there by chance. But there he was at the bus stop: I tapped him on the shoulder because he had his back to me. I started talking before he turned around.
‘Hey, what happened today...’
Shit! I hate confusing people. There's nothing more embarrassing.
‘Excuse me?’ It wasn't Chris standing in front of me.
‘Sorry, I confused you,’ I muttered and walked on.
Just as I was about to insert my key into the door, everything went black and I felt hands close in on my vision. Someone was playing a joke on me and covering my eyes.
"Well?’
‘Hi Chris.‘ Phew, I was glad that he approached me on his own. I carefully took his hands in mine and turned around. I didn't even notice that I was still holding his hands.
’Listen, about this afternoon. I mean, you know...’
‘It's okay. I won't ask any questions. I know the drill,’ I winked at him. He visibly let out a sigh of relief. He quickly kissed me on the cheek and only then realised what had happened. He immediately ran away. I stood there resigned and just looked after him for a very long time.
Wednesday
Chris wasn't at school. I couldn't stop thinking about him though. What did that mean yesterday? Ok, I'm not exactly the type to be affectionate with friends and kiss them on the cheek, but if some of them do it out of friendship, that's fine by me! It was just strange that he ran away then. It was probably all a bit too much for him. I went to his house in the afternoon and rang the doorbell.
A nice young woman opened the door for me.
‘Hello. I'm Chris's friend and I'm here to give him his homework.’
"Chris mentioned something like that, but he didn't tell me that he wanted homework from you. Tell me, are you new to Chris's class? I'm Alex, by the way, come on in. Chris is upstairs in his room. Right turn and then straight ahead.’
I was glad she forgot about the class thing, because I didn't really want to lie. But how else was I going to get in? With a cheese platter and say, ‘Room service, your brother kissed me?’
‘Thank you.’
‘Oh, and don't tell Chris I let you in, he doesn't want to talk to you.’
"You're welcome.’
‘Call me ‘you’. I'm not that old.‘
’Thanks, Alex."
I knocked on the room with the bright orange door. Someone called out “come in” and I slowly opened the door. His voice changed abruptly, became hoarse, and he began to tremble very gently and slightly. Nevertheless, he wanted to try to remain calm, which he did not succeed in doing.
‘What do you want?‘
’I want to talk to you,‘ I said.
’There's nothing to talk about.’
‘Yes, there is, and you probably know that better than I do.’ I sat down next to him on the bed and took a good look around. Dragons were painted on the grass-green walls of the room. It looked beautiful, there were three in total, one on each wall, huge and beautiful, almost perfect. A simple, somewhat wide bed stood against one wall. Only now did I notice that there was an angel on the blanket. One of those with a sword and shield in his hand, ready for battle, in crisp armour. It was the most beautiful picture I had ever seen. Otherwise there was a desk under a window and a few cupboards in the room. There wasn't really anything else to see. It was quite sparse, but the drawings made it so beautiful. He noticed that I was very surprised.
‘I drew that.‘
’It's... beautiful.‘
’Thank you.‘
I almost forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. But then I remembered.
’So, what I wanted to say...’
‘I already know. You don't want to have anything more to do with me. It happens to me with many. Suddenly, luck overcomes me and it's too late. Well, I'll just look for new friends.‘
’First of all, I'm really offended.’
‘Oh?‘ Suddenly he became really cold. But that was just his mask to hide what was going on inside him.
’I'm offended because apparently I'm just replaceable with some other idiots as a friend. And secondly, your previous friends must have been great if they freak out right away at something like that.’
He looked at me with wide eyes. Cute, those puppy dog eyes. He didn't know what to say, so he just started crying. The tears ran down his face without a sound. I held him in my arms. He must have had terrible friends if that made him cry!
‘Thank you,‘ he whispered shakily. I just enjoyed feeling his warmth. I had a friend. And now I had to cry too. Finally someone I could trust with everything.
’I want us to stay friends.‘
’Yeah, me too,‘ he replied. “You know what?”
’No, how could you?’ I laughed.
He bent over me to the bedside table and rummaged in some drawer. Somehow the feeling of him lying on top of me was both beautiful and oppressive at the same time. Then he pulled out a bound folder and handed it to me. When I opened it, I was thrilled. He noticed it and his eyes sparkled.
"You're the first person I'm showing it to.’
I was honoured. The folder contained such beautiful pictures. Entire battles of creatures, giant lizards, orcs, humans, dragons, angels. It looked breathtaking. Even the smallest person in the far corner of the battle was painted with such attention to detail that I almost fainted from enchantment. And that was just the first picture. The second picture was just as good: a huge castle made of diamonds, all in black and white, but you could still see the sparkle so well, as if it were real.
‘That's... beautiful,’ I said, as I had with the murals. Only now did I wonder how he could paint this angel on the ceiling! It must have been hard enough, but then so perfect!
‘You should send some of these pictures to companies that have something to do with magic and stuff. You'd be on the front page!‘
’Thank you.‘ He blushed a little because he wasn't used to it.
’You can keep them. I have several of them. It's my only hobby.‘
I was really flabbergasted. I could keep them!
’I can't accept that!’
‘Then I'll make you,’ he laughed loudly. Suddenly he pounced on me and tickled me. Then we laughed so hard that we would have laughed even if someone had thrown a toothbrush at us. After a quarter of an hour, we were doubled over on the floor, looking at each other. If we hadn't started laughing and giggling again right away, I would have said there was something romantic about the moment. Somehow I liked Chris more and more. With every second, I grew fonder of him.
"Ok, now it's...hehe...good...phew, that was exhausting.’
‘Laughing makes your abs...,‘ I giggled a little.
’Great, then you should come every day,’ he said, pulling up his T-shirt to show off his stomach. He already had a slight (slight!!!) six-pack. And a beautiful, tanned stomach. I almost lost my eyes. Of course, I had peeked at the other boys in the changing room and they had a much bigger six-pack and also browner skin, but his belly looked so beautiful and delicate. He realised that I was staring and pulled his T-shirt back down.
‘Oh... Um... well,’ I began to stammer, but he shook his head and just said,
‘Oh, never mind. We're even.’ As he said this, he winked at me. I smiled a little painfully.
‘Come on, it doesn't matter. And if it does, then you'll just think it's beautiful or who knows what.‘ He smiled, which made me smile too. To quickly change the subject, I came back to his folder. I looked at it again, and he noticed the sparkle in my eyes again.
’Listen, I really can't accept this.’
‘Don't talk such bullshit. I gave them to you, and a gift is a gift...‘
’...a gift. I know,‘ I finished the sentence. I was really glad that he gave them to me, because I don't think I could live without them.