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The demonic pianist

I'd been standing here for half an hour at the entrance to a large hall, listening to the sounds of the young pianist playing obediently for a whole horde of pensioners. Somehow, it actually sounded really good. Nevertheless, I wanted to move on. Maike had said she'd finish work at the box office at 6 p.m. sharp. Now it was already 6:30 p.m.! Women. If she weren't my best friend, I would have left long ago. I hate waiting. But whatever. She just wanted to earn some money alongside her studies, which I thought was fine. Living solely at the expense of the state was stupid, too.

Actually, that's what I was planning to do. Earn money alongside my chemistry studies, but I hadn't found anything suitable yet. I didn't want to be constrained, which is why most jobs slipped through my cracks. I just wanted to enjoy my life while I studied. I'd be able to toil nonstop for a long time afterward.

Leaning against the doorframe, I continued to listen to the piano's sounds, which were now slowly fading away. There was loud applause; some even stood up. The young pianist stood up, stepped in front of the grand piano, and bowed slightly to the crowd. He was certainly no older than sixteen, had his black hair gelled back heavily, and was wearing a smart suit. A grin crept onto my lips. I hoped I'd never have to wear such stiff clothes. Loose shirts and slacks with side pockets on the legs suited me better.

My slightly mocking smile immediately vanished when the young pianist looked directly at me. He was practically staring, and I could only look back, my eyes widening. A thousand tiny flashes of lightning shot through my body, making any movement impossible. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, as if electrified, and my heart began to pound loudly against my ribs. Although I couldn't tell the color of the boy's eyes, that eerie gaze through his narrow slits made me shiver.

"Here I am!" someone suddenly called out to me from the side, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. I thought I was dying of a heart attack.

"What's wrong with you? You're not usually so jumpy," Maike grinned at me amusedly.

Trembling slightly, I turned my head back to the stage, but the pianist had already left.

“Thilo?” Confused, I turned to my friend, who began to look at me worriedly.

"Let's go," I simply said, heading for the exit of the small opera house. Maike didn't ask any further questions, as she knew I didn't like to talk about what was going on inside me.

“What exactly were you planning to do today?” I asked her to get my mind off things.

“I need a dress for this charity event Markus is taking me to this weekend.”

You're probably wondering why Maike doesn't just drag a friend along and go shopping with her, after all, that's such a girl thing. The truth is, Maike had no one else. She was completely absorbed in her medical studies. She was simply born for this job, which is why she gave it her all. On top of that, she worked as a receptionist at concerts at the small opera house. Somehow, she was always on the go.

We met by chance because our bikes were parked right outside the university. So, she crashed into my side, and because she felt guilty, she invited me for a cappuccino, where we realized we really hit it off. We were on the same wavelength. Funnily enough, she wasn't my type, and I wasn't hers. I wasn't necessarily into super-skinny blondes, and she wasn't into long-haired guys with goatees. And what happens when a man and a woman aren't attracted to each other? That's right! They become best friends.

We both loved our studies, which is why you could often find us at university. We either ate lunch together in the cafeteria or sat in the library working on our presentations. Markus had met her at some "Save the God knows what" event. He was studying law, was good-looking, and had enough money thanks to his dad. Maike didn't really need to work anymore, but she vehemently refused to accept anything from her boyfriend. Markus, of course, was incredibly impressed.

So the two of them had been dancing together at every charity gala for half a year (you have to make a name for yourself, after all) and were as in love as ever. Jealous? Me? Maybe just a little bit. Who wouldn't want to fall in love? I was happy for them both; after all, Maike was my best friend, and Markus was okay too.

Just as we left the small opera house and descended the few stairs in front of it, Maike's cell phone rang.

"Speak of the devil," she said with a smile after briefly glancing at the display. "Hey, my love," she purred through the little communication device and took two or three steps away from me.

I sighed theatrically with a grin and strolled up and down the building. The whole thing would take at least ten minutes. It's really awful, these newly in love people.

My thoughts drifted again. I'd like to be in a relationship again. I could barely remember the last one. I wanted to fall in love again. Really, with rose-colored glasses and butterflies in my stomach. But I'd been kind of confused lately. Suddenly, I didn't think the guys from the basketball club were so bad after all, and the cheerleaders were getting too arrogant. It completely threw me off track.

I was just strolling past the corner of the house and was about to turn around when I heard a faint clinking sound and then someone cursing. I turned the corner into the small side alley and saw a woman picking up her lighter, trying in vain to light a cigarette.

"That's unhealthy," I said, recognizing my chemistry professor. She looked up, startled.

“Oh Thilo, you here.” Nervously, she tried to push the cigarette back into the pack.

My goodness, I'd never seen that woman so jumpy. She was usually the picture of calm! Honestly, she was the coolest professor I knew. She had a sense of humor, was good-looking (and she was in her late thirties!), and had a real brain, which she was able to convey brilliantly. She made the most boring topics into a spectacle.

I gallantly took the lighter from her hand and clicked it on with a quick click. Mrs. Schmidt exhaled helplessly and lit the cigarette.

"Thanks. I actually stopped, but whenever I get excited, I just can't stop."

“Like biting your fingernails?”

She giggled.

"Yes, something like that. But tell me, what brings you to this area? Tell me, you've discovered your love for classical music?"

"Oh my God," I laughed. "Maike works here. I'm just picking her up."

"You mean our smart medical student? Respect for her working on the side."

Did I mention that Maike was absolutely good at her subject and therefore well-known throughout the university?

"You're right. I'd love to follow your example, but somehow I haven't found anything suitable for me yet."

The professor began to look at me from the side with interest.

“But you could use the money, couldn’t you?”

"Who does not?"

“Perhaps I have something for you.”

I looked at her in surprise.

"It just so happens that at the last conference, my colleague, Professor Regner, was constantly nagging me about how you were supposedly such a math genius, but he just couldn't convince you to take his class. You must have impressed him quite a bit on the last general test."

She let her words sink in for a few seconds before she continued.

"Well, my son is currently finishing tenth grade. He's having some trouble with math. He's got exams coming up soon, and since he might want to attend college afterward, he needs a good final report card. You see, it's extremely important that he doesn't fall behind."

“So I should tutor the little rascal in math?!” I concluded from her explanations, to which she nodded.

"At least three times a week, three hours each. Paid, of course. I'd say ten euros an hour?"

Hmm, that sounded really good. Math was in my blood, so I didn't even have to put in much effort for this job.

“Twenty euros and I’ll do it.”

Mrs. Schmidt looked at me in surprise at first, because I had the nerve to double my pay. But then a small grin crept onto her shapely lips.

“Twelve euros.”

"Eighteen."

"Fifteen."

“Deal!” We both hit our ‘pact’.

“You are a tough negotiator,” my professor laughed.

"I'm just a poor student. Besides, professional teachers would probably cost twice as much," I joked, to which she just waved it off.

"That too. But my little darling doesn't get along with them. Maybe someone younger would be a better fit."

I was about to ask what exactly his problems were (apart from that—who knows what kind of disturbed child I was dealing with) when I heard my name called. Maike was standing at the corner of the alley and was now walking toward us.

"Here you are. I thought you'd stood me up," she said reproachfully. "Oh, hello, Professor Schmidt."

"Hello Maike. Okay, Thilo. Here's my address. I'd say 3 p.m. tomorrow? I have to leave right away for a meeting, but my son is a little angel. You'll be able to handle him on your own." She gave me her business card and said goodbye. My professor flicked her cigarette into the nearest manhole cover and then disappeared through the side entrance of the building from which I had picked Maike up.

Of course, my friend wouldn't leave me alone until I had told her in every detail what had happened between me and Mrs. Schmidt.

"I guess someone's hoping for better grades," she laughed when I was finished. Meanwhile, we walked toward the city center, where the shops were open until 10 p.m.

I just poked her in the side, which ended the conversation for now, because Maike had discovered the first clothing store. There were many more to come. Women were really terrible when it came to shopping. I would never have let myself be persuaded to run this marathon voluntarily, but a huge Subway sandwich with twelve of those delicious chocolate chip cookies was enough bribe.

Stupidly—or, from her perspective, cleverly—the reward came at the very end. I was already happy that after half an hour we'd found the perfect dress, but of course we still needed the right shoes, the right hair accessory, necklace, bracelet, ring, bag, suspenders, and underwear. Okay, I found the last one funny—and no, she didn't try it on and show it to me.

Even the next morning, my feet still hurt and I felt weak. Okay, part of it was because of my dream the night before, which made me feel a bit underwhelmed. The young pianist's cold eyes and unblinking stare had haunted me until the morning.

I had barely gotten through the day with my studies. Now it was just before 3 p.m. I stood in front of my chemistry professor's apartment and rang the bell.

"Oh, you're on time. Great, great. Come in first," Mrs. Schmidt greeted me, and I entered the large hallway of the condominium.

Although "big" was a huge understatement, it was enormous! Right next to the door, it curved slightly and continued backward, where I couldn't see the end. It continued forward for at least another ten meters and ended at a door. The ceiling was covered in stucco, and large double doors led off most of the sides.

"My son's room is straight ahead. He already knows," my professor snapped me out of my astonishment as she frantically put on some earrings and slipped into her pumps. "Your money is over there on the dresser. You can tell me tomorrow whether you want to continue teaching or not. Right, I have to go. I'm already running late. Well then. Have fun," she said goodbye and disappeared out the door.

“I’ll have that one,” I said quietly to myself.

My goodness, I felt completely alone in this 'hallway.' I took a deep breath and then walked toward my new student's room. 'Okay, three times six is eighteen, a² + b² = c², and the cotangent of an angle is equal to the ratio of the length of the adjacent side to the opposite side. Yup. I've still got it.' Strengthened by these thoughts, I knocked on the boy's door. When there was still no response after a second knock, I slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was quite dark. Gothic posters hung on the walls, black furniture, and candles. Then I turned to my right. There, someone was sitting at a computer with his back to me, the monitor the only source of light in the room. He had large headphones over both ears and was bobbing his upper body to a beat. Now I knew why he hadn't heard me.

I was just about to approach him to make myself known when he rolled his chair back, turned slightly to the side, and reached for the shelf that stood against the wall to my right. He was at least as startled as I was, because I stumbled backward two steps and he jumped up from his chair. In doing so, he ripped the cable of his headphones out of his stereo, and loud music by Beseech suddenly blared through the room.

Heart pounding, breath held, I looked into cold, turquoise eyes. 'Wait a minute. Wasn't that the pianist from yesterday?' The same eerie aura surrounded him, making me shiver. His black hair was gelled up in small spikes, and a piercing protruded from his full lips on the right side. He wore a short-sleeved, black shirt that reached just above his hips and wasn't buttoned at the front. This gave me a clear view of his flat torso, his chest piercing, and his stomach, where I could see a slight flex of his muscles. Loose black pants hugged his narrow hips and legs, and he was barefoot. Again, little flashes of lightning shot through my body, making my skin tingle as if it were being electrified.

"Are you nearly done?" he asked me, looking at me with a bored expression. I barely managed to close my mouth and looked at him in confusion.

"Do you need to keep staring at me? You can have a photo, too. For home," he continued, turned around a bit, and turned off the music.

With a bit of a start, I realized exactly what he'd just said and what it meant. My cheeks burned, and I wanted to sink into the ground with shame. Shit—the last time I'd blushed with embarrassment was five years ago, when a girl had immediately offered to give me a blowjob. Now I was standing there, twenty-something, feeling like a teenager going through puberty again.

The boy threw himself into his large leather armchair and clicked away on his PC. With wobbly legs, I sat down next to him on a smaller, leather stool with wheels.

"Sorry, I just had a moment of déjà vu. Yesterday I saw a pianist in the small opera house who looked awfully like you," I tried to explain.

My new student looked at me with a raised eyebrow, glanced briefly to the side, and then back at me. Surprised, I followed his gaze and spotted a large keyboard on the wall diagonally opposite the door. Why was everything so dark in here? That was the second time that day that my cheeks burned, and each time I felt them getting hotter.

"So that was really you?" I concluded uselessly, to which my counterpart just nodded loftily. "Now I know why your mom was there. You're a really good player, by the way. I was honestly impressed."

"So that's where she picked you up," he replied, snorting disparagingly and shaking his handsome head. "You can stop all that lying hypocrisy, by the way."

I frowned.

"How do you mean it now?"

"Just like I said. You stood there bored at the entrance the whole time and didn't even have the time to applaud at the end. You know, that's what you usually do at the end of a concert if you enjoyed it. But you didn't move an inch. You could only stare at me stupidly. Just like before."

Wait a minute, what did that little bastard think he was doing? He had absolutely no idea how I express my enthusiasm. He didn't even know me! During all that chatter, he didn't even look at me, he just kept clicking around with the mouse on his computer. I was really pissed off.

"Maybe I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't move," I snapped. He turned his head toward me and frowned.

“I don’t believe you.”

"I don't give a shit," I said more calmly, at which the boy looked at me strangely. Apparently, he didn't really know how to take that. I couldn't care less what he thought of me. I was here to teach him math, not to befriend him.

"Turn off the computer slowly and give me your math books. I need to get an overview of what's being discussed," I said, shifting the focus to the actual topic.

My student pouted, grabbed the thick book lying next to him, and threw (yes, threw!) it into my lap. If I hadn't caught it in time, it would have ended badly. I bit my tongue and refrained from making any comment.

“Can you tell me which side you’re on?” I asked as neutrally as possible.

"Man, how am I supposed to know?!" he grumbled, annoyed, but didn't even make an effort to look in the book. His behavior was really getting on my nerves.

“Could you please take a look?!”

"I could. Maybe. If I were merciful."

I lost my temper. I really didn't feel like dealing with this shit. I slammed the book down on the table, pulled his chair around to face me, put both hands on the armrests, and looked him deep in the eyes.

"You can pull that childish crap on someone else, but I absolutely don't want to. You're going to turn off your damn computer, grab a notebook and a pen, and study with me. Got it!" I hissed angrily.

The little one looked at me, wide-eyed and startled. His breathing quickened, and every breath that brushed my cheek caused a pleasant tingling sensation in my stomach.

"Fine by me," he said meekly, avoiding my gaze. I remained in that position for maybe three or four seconds before slumping heavily back onto my stool.

Without further ado, he turned on the overhead light, turned off the computer, and showed me what he needed to practice. We sat there for a good hour and a half, cramming math together. I actually found the material quite easy, but I was good at this stuff, too. My student listened attentively and really tried to understand everything. Unfortunately, his way of thinking was completely different from mine, which is why we often talked past each other in the beginning. He wasn't stupid when it came to the subject. He just needed a little more explanation. After we were about halfway through the lesson, I stretched so comfortably that I could hear a few bones cracking.

“How about a little break?” I offered.

"A lot. I'm going to get something to drink. Would you like something?"

Wow. So he could be nice too.

"Sure. It doesn't matter what, as long as it's not water or some healthy multivitamin stuff."

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, then he stood up and walked to the door.

"Tell me, what's your name?" Only now did I realize I didn't even know his name. He turned back to me and looked at me strangely.

“Lys,” he answered quietly.

“Lys?” I really wasn’t sure if I had understood him correctly.

“Actually Lysander, but Lys is enough.”

"Okay. I'm Thilo."

Now he really smiled and gave me a slight nod. Then he disappeared from the room. I took a deep breath. The little one had really thrown me. Especially just now. I mean, when he pulled a face or squinted his eyes when he was concentrating, it looked incredibly cute. But when he smiled just now... Wow. My heart did three somersaults at once.

Mo... Wait a minute. What was I thinking? I didn't really like that 'rascal' with his way too big mouth. Was this final proof that I was really... gay? Why does this shit always happen to me?!

“Hey! Your glass!”

I was so lost in thought that I hadn't noticed Lys come back into the room and had been holding a glass of Fanta under my nose for at least half a minute. Brilliantly, I was so startled that I jumped up, slipped on a caster on the stool, and fell backward onto my bottom, arms flailing wildly. I hit my head so hard on the shelf behind me that I saw stars for a few seconds.

When I could see somewhat clearly again, I recognized Lysander looking annoyed. In my fussing, I must have almost knocked a glass out of his hand, spilling its contents all over his torso. Shaking his head, he put both glasses down, then completely removed his shirt, dried himself with it, and dabbed the little Fanta he had left on the carpet.

“You’re totally clumsy, you know that?” the boy reprimanded me calmly and threw his shirt into a laundry basket.

“Sorry,” I said rather meekly this time and gently touched the back of my head.

"Whatever," he waved his hand. "Just be glad the CDs didn't fly off the shelf."

Lys stood on tiptoe quite close to me and pushed the CDs, which had slid forward due to the shock, all the way back onto the shelf. The fact that I had his cock right in front of me during this action didn't seem to bother him much.

"Yeah, I guess I was really lucky. A sharp CD case like that can really hurt," I stammered instead.

"I didn't mean it like that. These CDs are sacred to me. One scratch and you'd be dead." In the calm tone he said it, it wasn't until three seconds later that I realized how scathing he really meant it.

"Oh, how sweet. Don't worry so much about my health," I grumbled weakly. The whole thing had really hurt!

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

"True, I wouldn't have thought you had that much compassion." Grumbling, I got up and slumped onto the stool. "You're a real little poisonous mushroom, you know that?"

Lys sat back in his office chair and grinned broadly at me as I said my last words.

“You’re just noticing this now?”

Now I had to smile too. We both hung out again over the math problems and enjoyed the leftover Fanta from the same glass. The only thing that made me a little nervous was my student's bare chest, which was practically begging for me to touch him.

Not to mention that I caught myself staring at his nipple piercing a few times, and when I did notice, my cheeks would burn hot and I'd have trouble getting back into the material we were studying. I just prayed Lys didn't notice.

In the end, we managed to get through the three hours quite well and accomplished quite a bit. I stood in front of the front door again, putting on my shoes, while Lysander watched me from his leaning against the doorframe.

“You’re a really strange guy,” he began.

“You just said that,” I replied.

“No one has ever yelled at me and gotten away with it so easily,” he continued.

"Oh, so I guess I can be proud of myself now?" I asked with a grin, tying my second shoe. Then I stood up and put away the envelope containing my earned money, which my student handed me.

"More like your butt. If it wasn't so small and tight, I would have punched you a few times. So, see you tomorrow," he said, and closed the door in my face.

I stood in front of the closed apartment door for a good two minutes, staring at it with my mouth open. 'No. I just imagined that last sentence. Exactly. That's it. Absolutely.' With shaky legs, I walked down the stairs and went home. Once I got to the dorm, I spent a little time catching up on my studies, cleaned my room, washed my dirty clothes at the laundromat, and tried to reach Maike at least ten times. Shit, I was so confused, and all because of such a... kid!

I tried everything to distract myself, but in the end, my thoughts wandered back to Lys, his sweet mouth, his delicate torso with that sexy nipple piercing... Shit!!! What was I even thinking?! I tried calling Maike again, but again she didn't answer her phone. Man, I really needed to talk to someone about this. Sure, I had a few other friends, but I couldn't possibly talk to them about SOMETHING LIKE THIS. If I was going to reveal my emotional chaos, then it should only be to my best friend.

Annoyed, I took my laundry out of the dryer, packed it reasonably neatly into my large duffel bag, and trotted back to the dorm. The next morning, I promptly missed the first reading. Half asleep, I must have turned off my alarm, which is why I completely overslept. That's what happens when you're haunted by turquoise eyes at night and a pierced body presses itself lustfully against your own. I barely noticed the other readings. Although I desperately tried to stay awake, I still kept dozing off—much to the annoyance of my professors.

At exactly 3 p.m., I stood in front of the door of my (nightmare???) dream and pressed the bell. Nothing happened for a good two minutes. Only after ringing the bell a second time and pressing it for a longer time did I hear someone stumbling around inside and muffledly grumbling, "Yeah, man, I'm already here!" When the apartment door swung open, I was speechless for a few seconds.

Standing in the frame was a completely sleepy-looking Lysander with messy hair, sleep marks on his skin, and only wearing boxer shorts! God, he looked disgustingly cute and—what scared me most—damn sexy.

"Shit, you're on time," he said, turning around and heading toward his room. Meanwhile, I tried to calm my poor little heart, which was pounding like crazy against my chest.

“You shouldn’t swear so much,” I babbled as I took off my shoes to regain control of my thoughts.

“Yes, I know, otherwise my education will go to hell,” he replied lamely.

When I entered his room, he was buttoning his trousers and sitting wearily down on his bed.

“Man, you can hardly see anything in here,” I noted, looking for the switch for the outside blinds.

“I can’t handle the brightness right now,” Lys yawned and fell back onto his soft mattress.

“Honestly, I don’t care,” I replied, flicking the switch with a wicked little grin.

The system hummed into motion, letting the sun gradually into the room. Lys grumbled, somewhat annoyed, and pressed a pillow to her face.

“Come on, just three hours, then you can go back to sleep,” I said, nudging his with my foot.

My student, however, just gave me the middle finger. Man, does he always make such a fuss now? I propped my knee on the edge of the bed and leaned forward enough to steal his pillow from his hands. Lys groaned at the sudden brightness and then glared at me angrily.

I was just about to take a breath to yell something stupid at him when he quickly leaned forward, grabbed my arm, and pulled me onto the bed with a yank. Before I could react, he was sitting on top of me, pressing my back against the mattress, holding my arms by the wrists. His face was so close to mine that I almost thought I was touching the tip of his nose.

“Nobody tells me what to do or what not to do!” my student hissed venomously, but I was not impressed.

“Except me!” I replied.

His turquoise eyes bored deep into my core, sending a pleasant tingling sensation, and not just in my stomach. God, how much longer was he going to stay sitting on my hip? The last thing I wanted was for him to notice how much this situation was turning me on. Then, all of a sudden, his lips moved ever closer to mine. I was so startled by this, and by my desire to want exactly this, that I roughly pushed Lysander away from me, directly onto the carpeted floor.

"What the hell is this?" I yelled at him, jumping up. He just looked up at me innocently.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he said calmly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"But I'm not gay!" I barked hysterically, at which Lys just started giggling like an idiot. "What's so funny all of a sudden?!" I asked, pissed off.

“If you’re not into guys, I’m Mother Theresa,” giggled my student.

"What do you mean? You don't even know me!"

"True, I don't know you. But I have eyes in my head. Like you were drooling yesterday when I was studying shirtless next to you..."

“I… I didn’t drool!”

"Right," he agreed, standing up and moving closer with each word. "You would blush in a cute way and start stuttering in embarrassment whenever you caught yourself staring at me."

"That's not true," I denied weakly, turning bright red. Shit, he really did notice yesterday.

He pushed me against a high CD shelf, and I stared at him fearfully, wide-eyed, as if I were a tiny rabbit sitting in front of an evil snake. Lys was half a head shorter than me! Again, his lips moved closer to mine, and again I was so scared that I roughly pushed him away. Only this time, I grabbed my backpack and stormed toward the door.

I couldn't stand being in that room for another second. It was all too confusing for me. The fact that I found this boy absolutely hot, that my body longed for his touches, that these very touches made me stagger, no matter how slight, as if I had some kind of fever—the whole thing was completely overwhelming.

I had already opened the door a crack when Lys threw himself against it, slamming it shut. I glared at him angrily, my breath gasping as if I'd just run a marathon.

"I'm sorry," my student said, uncharacteristically gentle. "I really didn't mean to scare or offend you. Please stay here."

He gave me the worst dachshund look I'd ever seen, and I melted. I slumped heavily onto the stool and looked down, irritated. My legs wouldn't support me any longer, and it was only with difficulty that I suppressed the trembling in my hands. Man, I felt like I was going through drug withdrawal. Maybe I was. My 'dealer' sat down in his leather chair with a sigh of relief.

"Phew, that was really close," he said. I looked at him with a huge question mark on my face. "You'd be the seventh teacher I'd scared away."

“You turned on your teachers?” I asked incredulously.

"I'm not perverted, of course!" he snapped, but his features immediately softened again. "Either my lovers picked me up too early or they were waiting for me here," he nodded toward the bed. "Most people couldn't quite handle that," he explained innocently.

“So your mom knows?”

"Of course. She's my mother. Luckily, she doesn't have a problem with it. I'm just not allowed to bring friends anymore when I have tutoring. She's really stressing me out because of the cram."

“That’s why you stopped me.”

“Not only,” he looked at me again meaningfully, which sent a warm shiver through my entire body.

"I'm not interested," I said defiantly, but in reality I meant the exact opposite. I just didn't want to tell him, let alone admit it to myself.

"Yes, yes, I know—unfortunately," Lys groaned in disappointment, digging out his math materials. For the next two hours, we actually studied the material quite diligently, but then my student went on strike.

"I can't take it anymore," he whined, laying his head on the table. "This is just too much input."

Unfortunately, I didn't even manage to contradict him because I could barely keep my eyes open and my temple on my forehead was throbbing annoyingly.

"Fine by me. Let's call it a day," I gave in weakly. Two turquoise eyes looked at me in surprise.

“Are you serious?”

“Why not,” I shrugged, suppressing a yawn.

"Man, you look really exhausted. What were you doing all night?" Lys asked me, and I almost thought I could hear a certain uncertainty in his words—if he even had such a thing.

“Bad dream,” I evaded him and packed my things.

“I hope not,” joked my counterpart, jumped up, went to his large wardrobe and picked out a rather tight, black shirt that barely reached over his stomach.

Meanwhile, I prayed fervently that he didn't hear the pounding of my heart or notice my red cheeks. With a few deft moves, he quickly packed his large keyboard into a suitable bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“Where are you going with this?”

“For rehearsal.”

“Is there another concert coming up soon?”

"I don't know. I'd have to ask my mom for that. She manages everything for me. I'm in a band. We practice as often as possible in the old catacombs of the southern part of the city. Wait a minute."

He rummaged briefly in a drawer, then pulled out a business card and scribbled something on the back before handing it to me with a slight smile. I examined the piece of paper, which advertised super-cheap, soundproof practice rooms, and then turned it over. On the back, 'Lys' and a phone number were emblazoned in cursive handwriting.

“In case you ever miss me,” he commented, blew a kiss on the tip of my nose, and disappeared from the room.

I sat there frozen to stone, trying to fight this feeling of helplessness. 'Why does my body react so intensely to his touch?' Everything around me spun, and I had to take a few deep breaths before my circulation calmed down again.

“Thilo? Are you okay?” My student had come back into the room and was looking down at me, a little worried.

“Nah… yeah… I just need some sleep.”

I slowly pushed myself to my feet and left the room with Lys. I paused briefly at a dresser in the hallway and reached for the envelope containing my money for today. I was about to fish out fifteen euros when my student took the envelope from my hand, packed all the money back in, and stuffed it all into my backpack.

"Look around. My mom has plenty of money. Just consider it a bonus that you're doing pretty well so far."

“More like a bribe for having to put up with you.”

“That too, if you like,” laughed Lysander, finally finishing lacing up his Rangers.

How can anyone wear shoes like that outside in this warm weather? We walked down the stairs together and said goodbye just before the front door, as Lys had to go in the opposite direction from me. It all happened so uneventfully that I turned around once or twice, expecting some kind of nonsense, until Lys disappeared around the next corner – uneventfully.

Was that making me melancholy? Why was I suddenly disappointed? I shook my head to get rid of this apprehension, but it would stay with me for the next few days. Tomorrow was Thursday, so Lys had piano lessons and I was 'off' – apart from studying. So I wouldn't see him again until Friday afternoon. Why was that making me sad? What was actually wrong with me?

I rummaged through my bag and pulled out my phone. The conversation with Maike was long overdue. Luckily, she answered this time, and we arranged to meet Thursday evening. Once I got to the dorm, I jumped into the shower to relax. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw that turquoise glow, that pale skin, those full lips. A desire was building up inside me that I could no longer resist.

Half an hour later, I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted but considerably more relieved. I hadn't gotten so excited after jerking off in ages. Could it really all be because of that brat?

I tried a few times to pull myself together to do some more work on my studies. But after the third attempt, I simply snuggled under the thin covers and fell asleep within seconds. The night passed relatively peacefully, largely due to the fact that my dreams weren't quite as vivid this time. Still, they didn't completely disappear.

I spent most of the next day at university and in the library, working on some papers. Around 6 p.m., I finally met up with Maike in a small café and explained my entire, complicated situation. My friend was initially surprised that I wanted to talk to her about something personal, as I wasn't the type to vent my anger at every opportunity. But she listened silently until I had told her everything. Then she looked at me, very calm, and just as calmly, she began to speak.

"Okay. There are now exactly two options."

I looked at her expectantly.

"Either you're gay or at least bi." A brief pause followed. "Or... or you're just curious. Some people call it 'culture shock.' You're simply interested in his sexual orientation. This usually goes away once that interest is satisfied."

“And how can one satisfy that?” I asked hopefully.

“Kiss him!”

I stared at her with my mouth open for a while.

“I… I can’t do that,” I stammered, overwhelmed.

"Why not? The male and female bodies aren't that different. Aside from minor differences."

"No, that's not what I'm talking about. Just... when Lys kissed the tip of my nose yesterday, I felt so sick I could barely stand."

“That’s why I’m more inclined to choose the first option.”

“I’m not gay!” I said angrily, and had to restrain myself from jumping up.

"Maybe you're bi. It doesn't matter. I think it's all fine. As long as both of you want it, everyone can do whatever they want. But you, my dear Thilo, are head over heels in love."

I just shook my head.

"If that were the case, wouldn't I have butterflies in my stomach, be happy all the time, and see everything in rose-colored glasses? I, on the other hand, feel terrible. I'm constantly depressed, and the colors I see are black. Not to mention that I almost puke when Lys gets close to me."

"That's because you don't want to admit the truth. All that 'bad' word 'gay' is floating around in your little head. But how about replacing it with 'love'?"

“If this is what being in love feels like, I don’t know if I even want it,” I said defiantly, crossing my arms in front of my chest like a petulant little boy.

Coming from her mouth, it all sounded so simple, so clear, and transparent. So... so... so normal. But it wasn't! It was complicated, annoying, and strange. What pretty boy would fall in love with a lanky student with dirty blond, thin hair and smoky gray eyes?!

But wait a minute. Whether he liked me wasn't even up for debate. Sure, he'd hit on me a few times, but he'd given up pretty quickly. Was I really just worrying about whether he might like me or not? Maybe it really was just curiosity. But why did I always blush whenever I looked at him more closely?

"Man, Thilo. Even if you were gay, what's the problem? As far as I know, you have no relatives, and his already knows. And if some of your friends don't accept it, they can go to hell. So?"

Maike was right. The problem lay entirely with me. Of course, I wanted to fall in love again, but with someone who wasn't so overwhelming. With someone who would let me sleep at night and not haunt my dreams. But wasn't that part of it? My head was spinning wildly, and I ran my shaky fingers through my hair.

"Hey," Maike gently touched my cheek and briefly stroked my skin. "You're really exhausted. First, try to take a deep breath and calm down. It doesn't matter whether you're gay or not. The real question is whether you really like Lys or whether you're just curious. Just let the next few weeks come to you and stop thinking about it. Listen to your heart. Listen carefully. It will show you the right path for you."

She spoke to me lovingly, and I felt calmer by the second. She was absolutely right. And I was more than grateful. The next day, I went to Lys's feeling absolutely buoyant. This time, he was even prepared for the class, and I didn't feel as sick anymore. I still had no idea if it was really just culture shock or if I'd fallen in love with him. But I wanted to follow Maike's advice and just take it all in stride.

That day, I was really pleased with my student. He had retained quite a bit of what I had taught him and toiled through the three hours without complaint. Only at the end, after he had already packed up his things, did he look at me strangely.

“Do I have something on my face?” I joked ignorantly.

"Yes, you do. A cute, button nose, intelligent gray eyes, and inviting, thin lips." I stared uncertainly as he raised a hand and brushed a strand of my long hair from my face. When his fingertip touched my cheek, it burned hotly, and everything around me began to spin again.

“I like you, you know,” Lys confessed quietly, coming closer to me.

However, my panic was growing. I thought again of Maike's words: 'Culture shock.' Maybe I really just needed to let him kiss me, and once my curiosity was satisfied, I'd feel better again. Or maybe I'd discover I was completely in love with Lys, admit to myself that I was gay, and live happily ever after? That sounded way too easy. My panic got the better of me, so I took his hand in mine and gently but firmly pushed him away.

“I think I made myself clear enough on that point,” I said weakly.

"Your body language tells me something completely different," Lys contradicted, about to move closer to me again. But I stood up and reached for my backpack.

"I have to go. I have something planned for tonight," I evaded him and left the room.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" my student stopped me from the apartment door, and I turned to him. He was standing in front of the dresser, holding the envelope with my money in his hand. Only hesitantly did I move and then tried to take the envelope from him, but he held onto it.

“Why are you running away from me?” Lysander asked me, unexpectedly reproachful.

I was about to defiantly say, 'I don't,' but that would be a complete lie. After all, I was standing in the hallway, not five minutes after class had ended.

“I can’t handle your advances,” I finally answered truthfully.

"I wouldn't try to get with you if I didn't feel like you were into me too."

“Your feelings are wrong.”

"I don't think so. Even now you're blushing again."

"I'm not used to having conversations like this. How would you react if a good friend suddenly started hitting on you?"

“I certainly wouldn’t stutter as cutely as you.”

"You're just a boy. I don't know any other gay people. That makes me nervous."

Lys began to grin.

"Okay. So my aggressive attitude is making you nervous. Good. Then I'll hold back a bit in the future and take things slower."

“I don’t think it will be any better.”

"I think so. That way you can get used to me and overcome your unfounded fear. And when you're no longer afraid of me, you'll let me pet you." He reached out his hand to me, but I just swatted it away angrily.

"What's going on? Do I look like a dog or something?"

“More like a restless hawk, pecking wildly, untamed,” Lys answered gently, looking at me as if I were a being from another world.

My heart was pounding in my throat and I barely dared to breathe. His turquoise eyes bored deep into my core, rendering me unable to move. He slowly approached me and stood on tiptoe to be level with me. I could only see his lips, tantalizingly approaching mine, and I closed my eyes. But just as I could feel his hot breath on my skin, I heard someone unlock the apartment door. Panicked, I opened my eyes wide and jumped backward.

"Oh, hello Thilo. You're still here," my professor greeted me.

“Yes, but I’m just on the go,” I greeted back and took the envelope from Lys’s hand.

"Now that you're here, how are things going?" Mrs. Schmidt asked curiously, taking off her shoes at the same time. Thank goodness, otherwise she would have seen my anxious look and Lys's suggestive look.

“I feel like we’re making good progress,” I replied nervously.

“Oh, I think so too,” my student agreed, but he meant something completely different than I did.

"It's nice to hear you're getting along so well," said the professor, placing her briefcase on the bench next to the dresser. "My son didn't get along so well with other teachers."

“I’ve heard about that.”

Surprised, Mrs. Schmidt looked up and back and forth between me and her offspring. Then a small smile crept across her lips.

"I wouldn't have expected that. My little darling isn't usually one to spill the beans," she said, adjusting the collar of Lysander's shirt.

“Thilo is okay,” he said.

"Well, I won't disagree," she laughed. I just cleared my throat, embarrassed.

"Okay. I'll get going then. Have a nice weekend. See you again on Monday," I said goodbye and headed for the apartment door.

“And we’ll see each other on Tuesday,” my student called after me.

My hand immediately froze on the doorknob. Tuesday – a little over three days. Was that the first time I'd see him again? On the one hand, I was glad the three hours I had to spend with Lys were over, but on the other, I was actually longing for those hours.

“Yes… Tuesday,” I stammered and disappeared from the apartment without looking back one last time.

I quickly put on my sneakers and ran down the stairs. Out into the warm yet fresh air. Once there, I took a deep breath to calm myself down. He really had almost kissed me, and I hadn't resisted. Was that really the right thing to do? I listened to myself, listened to my heart, as Maike had advised me.

No matter how hard I concentrated, all I felt was a warm pulsing that gradually filled my entire body. Was that love? Or just an echo of the shock when I heard the key in the lock and realized what exactly I was about to do? Was it just the adrenaline still coursing through my veins?

Whatever. I would do what Maike had advised me to do and wait. Just let things happen. I spent my weekend feeling a little more relieved, but above all much more peaceful. I went out with friends, slept in, and enjoyed the wonderful weather outside with a good book. Yes, you could say I felt good and balanced.

The next three weeks flew by and were relatively uneventful. In Lys's presence, I relaxed more and more and began to enjoy those little 'accidental' touches, like when I handed him a pen. I started to like the reserved glances he gave me, without really realizing it. My student had also stopped trying to force his way around me. I don't know whether that was supposed to calm me down or make me think.

It was a Tuesday when I stood in front of my student's door at 3 p.m., almost euphoric. But once again, no one answered. Even after the third and fourth ring, nothing happened. Did I mention that I hate waiting? And being late, and being stood up...

Annoyed and rather angry, I pulled my cell phone out of my side pocket. The business card Lys had once handed me with his number on it came out. I tried my luck and called my student. However, no one answered, and I really didn't feel like talking to the voicemail.

'What does he think he's doing? He knew full well that we were studying together at this time. Or was Lys just tired of it? Okay, who wants to study, but I was concerned about myself. Did he not want to meet up with me anymore? Had I become too boring for him?' My own thoughts confused me more and more.

I turned the business card over and noticed the address printed on it. His rehearsal space. Maybe he was there? With a mixture of uncertainty and anger, I set off. The street was a good ten minutes walk from Lys's apartment, and when I found the right house number, I stood in front of the building for a few seconds, puzzled.

From the outside, the apartment building looked quite upscale. Light paint, large, glass-enclosed balconies, and arched windows. Only a small, gold sign on the wall next to the entrance discreetly indicated the basement rooms available for rent. I entered the building with a queasy feeling in my stomach.

Even the interior looked elegant. To the left and right, a normal apartment opened, and straight ahead, a staircase led up and down. I took the latter and, after the second landing, stopped in front of a smoothly polished steel door. On it, another very simple sign read "To the Rehearsal Rooms."

The door was quite difficult to open, and a faint musty smell greeted me as I entered the catacombs. The walls were made of unplastered stone, yet everything was very clean. I walked down for a good half minute, and the further I went, the more clearly I heard the music. Once at the bottom, a narrow corridor led straight ahead, with doors on either side bearing large, tin numbers.

I could only faintly hear the wild drumming here, the spine-tingling screams there. I had no idea why I stopped in front of door number seven. It could have been the sounds coming out, which reminded me strongly of 'Beseech'. I slowly opened it and poked my head inside. I was instantly speechless. As if apathetically, the rest of my body slid into the room, and I stared, open-mouthed, at the musicians playing there.

There were four people standing to the side of me. In the back left, a young girl with green hair was furiously banging on a drum kit. Straight ahead, a guy with long, platinum-blonde hair and a piercing in his lower lip stood with an electric guitar, passionately stroking its strings. In the back right, I recognized a fragment of another girl with black hair and red highlights, who was also holding a guitar in her arms and delighting the microphone in front of her with soothing sounds. In the front right, he stood now: Lysander. With his keyboard set up in front of him, he caressed the keys with his slender fingers, drawing out the most beautiful sounds.

My heart was pounding against my chest like it was going to explode. My knees went weaker than jelly and I hardly dared to breathe. How could this boy look so damn good? That body, the way he moved to the music, his lips almost touching the microphone with every verse he sang, the single beads of sweat running down his forehead, along his neck, and disappearing under his way-too-tight shirt. I was stunned. That's exactly why I panicked. There was nothing normal about how I had looked at him and what it triggered in me. This wasn't culture shock, it wasn't interest in the unknown. This was more. Much more.

But just as I was about to turn around and leave, the last notes of the song faded away. And the door, which I had inadvertently let go of upon my discovery, slammed shut with a loud bang. All four heads snapped toward me in alarm. One was about to make a move, but Lys got there first and rushed toward me.

“Thilo. Man, what are you doing here?” he asked me, pleasantly surprised.

“We…” I cleared my throat. “We should have class now,” I stammered, feeling incredibly stupid.

"What?" Lys opened his beautiful eyes wide in disbelief and rummaged in his side pocket. A quick glance at his phone clock confirmed my statement. "Shit. I totally missed the time. You know, we lost a few classes, and since we have a gig in two weeks, we wanted to practice a bit. I'm really sorry," my student apologized, sporting his nasty puppy-dog look again.

I exhaled, a little pained, and tried not to look at him too directly.

"Whatever. We can skip it today," I said, about to leave. But Lys stopped me.

"No, no, that's okay. We only wanted to go through one more song anyway. Then we would have stopped anyway," he said euphorically, dragging me right in front of the group and pushing me onto one of the two old sofas that stood against the wall. Then they started playing and he started singing.

The whole time, he was staring at me, his turquoise eyes boring into my very being, and I wasn't even remotely able to look away. I didn't hear a single note of the song, only his lips, moving for me alone. His hands, which he occasionally stretched out, as if he wanted to reach out to ME. As if in a trance, I looked up at him, even long after the song was over.

"So, what do you think? Can we play like this on Saturday?" he asked me, out of breath, taking a few big sips from his water bottle.

For me, it was like clapping your hands at the end of a meeting when you're supposed to wake up. I blinked a few times and looked around in confusion, because the others were also looking at me, eager for an answer.

“Um... I think so,” I stammered, desperately trying to organize my thoughts.

“That’s telling feedback,” said the drummer, turning away and gathering her things.

“Tell me, were you even listening to us?” My student looked down at me, frowning.

"We were loud enough," laughed the guitarist, patting Lys on the shoulder. "I'll go. See you tomorrow."

The guy said goodbye and was about to leave the rehearsal room with the green-haired girl when a young woman entered. She had long, brunette hair tied back in a braid. Only two strands of her bangs fell across her face on either side.

“CAT!” Screaming with joy, the other singer ran towards the newcomer and threw her arms around her neck.

“Well, my little one,” the woman greeted her gently and kissed her forehead.

"Have you heard? We have a gig at a real club. Cool, right?" the girl chattered excitedly.

"Of course I've heard about it. The evening is sure to be great. Come on, put away your instrument. I have something planned for you today," Cat said gently, at which the little girl was about to rush off, but paused briefly, gave the older girl a kiss on the cheek, and only then ran off to gather her things. Cat watched her lovingly, then her gaze wandered to me.

"Who are you?" she asked, frowning. Lys took the answer from me as he zipped up his bag, where he'd stashed his keyboard.

“It’s none of your shit business.”

"Oh, the gentleman is very charming again today. So he's yours. Well, he's definitely better than the other guys you've brought along so far," she said calmly.

"Fuck off," Lys glared angrily at the young woman and approached her threateningly. The other two band members, alarmed, had put their things aside and stepped to Lysander's side as a precaution. Cat, however, remained calm.

"Wow. You've never been so snappy when I made fun of your little bunnies," she said, bored, and turned back to the girl.

“Are you finished, Micha?” she asked in a much gentler tone.

"I am," the black-haired woman answered cheerfully, as if she hadn't noticed anything. Then she ran to Lys, kissed him on the cheek, and briefly ruffled his hair. "Don't let her provoke you like that," she warned him.

“She’s doing it on purpose!” Lys replied.

"That's exactly why you should calm down. You know she enjoys teasing you."

“Oh, fuck off.”

Micha gave him a friendly nudge in the side and then disappeared from the rehearsal room with the rest of the band and Cat. The latter broke into a broad grin and winked at the singer before the door slammed shut.

"Wow, I just can't stand that bitch," Lys shouted angrily and went to his bag. I just stood there, rooted to the spot, staring stupidly at my student. Man, he was cute when he was so angry.

"Come on, let's go. I desperately need some fresh air," I was told, and I followed him outside.

“Aren’t you really mad that I made you wait?” Lys asked after we had walked side by side in silence for a while.

"Just briefly at the beginning," I admitted quietly. "But it wasn't intentional."

We made the rest of the journey relatively quietly. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts.

“Tell me, do you have any plans for Saturday in two weeks?” Lys broke the silence when we arrived in his room.

“Not yet,” I replied, watching my student put his bag against the wall and then take off his shirt.

"Cool. You heard about the gig. Come on over. Do you mind if I take a quick shower? I'm totally sweaty," he said without pausing.

"Just go," I said, staring down at the ground. Man, how could he just undress in front of me like that? Didn't he know what he was doing? Was he intentionally provoking me?

"Okay, I'll hurry. What about Saturday?" Lys asked again, making me look up.

He was rummaging through his closet, his back to me. I just stared at him apathetically, unable to respond. Not because I found his back so hot, but because three deep scratches ran across the side. Suddenly, I had this image in my head of my student lying on top of someone, satisfying him, while Lys moaned with ecstasy as his fingers dug deep into Lys's skin. I felt sick. I jumped up, left my backpack behind, and stormed out of the room.

'Stupid. Yes, that's exactly what I was. How could I even imagine that this absolutely hot guy fancied me? Of course, I wasn't the only one who fancied him. There were certainly plenty of others who had their eye on Lys and weren't as coy as I was. He was still quite young, but ultimately just a man with certain needs. How could I really think that he would wait for me. Wait until I was finally in tune with myself. I was simply nothing more to him than a simple fuck-bunny, and since I didn't let him get close to me, he satisfied his desires with someone else. It was all that simple...' So simple that tears welled up in my eyes.

Instead of finally leaving me alone, Lys ran after me and caught up with me in the hallway. He tried to grab my arm, but I just flailed around wildly.

“Man, Thilo. Finally tell me what’s going on!”

I ignored him, just wanting to get out of there, but when I tried to open the apartment door, it was locked. I shook it a few times, but other than a slight rattle, nothing happened. A clinking sound made me turn around. Lys just stood there, holding the keys up in plain sight, and then put them in her pocket.

"I wanted to talk to you today," he began to explain. "But since I know you'll run away at the slightest thing, I've already made provisions."

"Let me go, now!" I hiss angrily. What was that guy even thinking?

“Not until we’ve talked about everything properly.”

“But I don’t feel like doing that.”

"I don't care. Don't you really understand anything? I'm completely in love with you," Lys said gently, looking at me pleadingly. I, however, wasn't paying any attention.

"Do you say that to everyone you want to get into bed? If you really need it, then go to one of your fuck buddies!"

“What are you talking about?”

I didn't have the strength to answer, but the boy noticed my brief glance at the scratches. From his expression, I could see that he was beginning to understand.

"That's why? That's the only reason you're acting up?" he giggled madly. "It was completely harmless. Just a hangover."

I'M SORRY, WHAT????

“I don’t care what you call your studs!” I yelled at him.

Then, with a loud thud, his flat hand landed squarely in my face. In disbelief, my fingers moved to my cheek, which tingled uncomfortably hot. My knees buckled, and I slid to the floor, my back against the door.

"I'm sorry," Lys apologized, kneeling down in front of me. "You're getting worked up about something that's not true. Michaela's cat gave me those scratches. He was supposed to go to the vet and be neutered. Apparently, the filthy beast realized what was in store for him and kept running away. Of course, I had the privilege of catching him. The little tiger gave me those scratches. Look closely. Fingernail marks never look like that."

Great, so I was jealous of a shitty tomcat?! As if that wasn't enough, my reaction was the final proof that I was head over heels in love with Lys. Okay, I'd finally admitted it to myself. Why was I still feeling so miserable?

"Ever since I first saw you, I haven't been able to think about anyone else. You're the only one for me."

Why would he say something like that? I acted like a total idiot, and he still confessed how much I meant to him? Tears rolled down my cheeks of their own accord, unable to stop them. Great, I admitted to myself that I was gay, and now I'm acting like a wimp. Such a cliché.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't cry," Lys tried to comfort me, taking my head in his hands and kissing the salty drops from my face.

“I’m such an idiot,” I moaned.

"Of course you are. You kept me waiting for a whole month. I almost died of longing."

His turquoise eyes penetrated mine, causing my heart to race so fast that my entire body vibrated to the beat. Little by little, our lips moved closer, and when they finally met, I almost fainted. It was just a simple kiss, as innocent as a newborn's, and yet there was so much more to it.

After what seemed like an endless few seconds, Lys pulled away from me and smiled shyly at me. God, he looked so cute. Unfortunately, I didn't get to enjoy it for long. My student leaned forward again, but I stopped him just before my lips. He looked uncertainly into my eyes, then closed his and leaned his forehead against mine.

"Let's just try it together. Please," he began to beg, but I wriggled out of his grasp and tried to stand up. Lys clutched my arms, his two mournful, turquoise stars glittering at me pleadingly. I faltered for a moment and then finally managed to say what I'd been meaning to say:

"I feel sick."

I was stared at in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" he asked, just to be sure, to which I just nodded weakly. "Come on, the bathroom's right here."

My student helped me to my feet, and together we staggered into the room in question. Luckily, I didn't vomit. A cold washcloth on my forehead and a glass of water worked wonders. I sat on the toilet (the lid was down, of course) and leaned my head back against the cool tiles. Lys stood opposite me against the wall, arms folded and legs crossed. He stared at me without saying anything.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a bit too neutrally. Was he angry?

"I think so. Thanks."

After taking another deep breath, I slowly stood up. I really couldn't sit on the toilet the whole time. However, my knees were as weak as jelly, so I leaned heavily on the sink, which was a step away. Lys came running to me, startled, and grabbed my arm.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

"Honestly, not really. I don't understand it. I've admitted everything to myself. Why am I still feeling so miserable?" I was really fed up with my condition. Is it going to continue like this forever?

"What now? What did you admit to yourself?" My student stood in front of me and looked up at me, frowning. All of this just made me embarrassed and insecure.

"Well, that... that I fell in love with you," I stammered, my voice growing quieter with each word. Gathering all my courage, I raised my hand and stroked Lys's cheek. He exhaled with relief, shook his head slightly, and then snuggled into my hand.

“And I thought you were sick because you hated me.”

"Absolutely not!" I said, startled. "I don't know if it's because you're the first man I've ever fallen in love with. But ever since I met you, everything has been upside down for me. Never before have I believed that a light touch would burn me, or that a mere glance could penetrate me deeper than lightning. That eyes could follow me into my dreams. That a simple kiss could make me faint."

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Lys wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly against his body.

“I’m just scared,” I whispered, clinging to my sweetheart.

"You'll never need them again. Because from now on, I'll always be with you."

I have no idea how long we stood there like that. At some point, Lys broke away from me and carried me to his bed. He had placed the glass of water on the nightstand and the freshly cooled washcloth on my forehead.

"I'm just going to take a quick shower. I'll be right back," he said lovingly, blew a kiss on my lips, and disappeared into the bathroom.

I felt better by the minute. I closed my eyes and listened to the splashing water from the next room. My stomach was still rumbling a little, but otherwise I felt incredibly happy. A little later, Lys came back into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. His hair was a mess and still wet. He was wearing only Bermuda shorts, the black of which had completely faded. He looked down at me, smiling.

“So? Are you feeling okay again?”

“Now that you’re back with me, definitely.” Smiling lovingly, I looked up at him and began to play with the fingers of his hand.

"Move over a bit," he demanded, and before I knew it, he had pushed me back onto the second half of the bed and laid down on the first. But contrary to my fears, he didn't attack me; he simply lay on his back, his arm behind his head, his legs crossed. He hadn't let go of my hand.

“You really are the most unique thing that has ever happened to me,” Lys said after a while.

"I believe you," I snorted, smiling. I lay on my side facing him and just couldn't get enough of him.

“I was really panicking earlier.”

“You mean when I said I felt sick?”

“I felt like someone was ripping my heart out.”

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. You just caused such a turmoil inside me, which somehow completely upset my stomach."

“Do you always feel sick when I’m around you?”

"Was. I was sick. I'm feeling okay now, which might be because I'm slowly coming to terms with myself."

"That's good." As if Lys had been waiting for just such confirmation, he snuggled up close to me. His wet hair tickled my nose, and I began to stroke his shoulder all the way up to his neck, hesitantly at first, then freely.

"Hmmm. I don't think I'll be able to study any more today," purred my darling, stretching so I could pet him better.

“I think so too.” Tsk… who thinks of something like that at a moment like this?

My eyes grew heavier over time, and before I knew it, I and Lys had dozed off. Only the knock on the door woke me up.

"Lysander. I'm back. Can I come in for a minute?" I heard my professor ask outside. Shit! That exact word was buzzing through my head and made me jump. Lys just grumbled and turned on her side with her back to me.

"Lysander?" And Mrs. Schmidt entered the room. I think we both looked pretty shocked. "Thilo?"

"Um..." I began to stammer, fidgeting restlessly. My sweetheart woke up from the movement (finally!) and rubbed his sleepy eyes.

“Hey Mom. Back already?” he greeted his mother with a yawn.

"Yes, I am," she said sharply. "Don't you want to explain to me what that's all about?"

"Oh. Sorry. This is Thilo. Thilo, my mom." The little one was so sleepy that he didn't understand anything yet.

"I know who he is. But what the hell is he doing in your bed?!" she started to rant. Then it finally clicked for him.

"Oh... Mom. Please, I'm sorry. It just happened."

"Just happened???" Mrs. Schmidt exclaimed. "If you don't feel like studying, that's one thing. But what on earth gives you the right to sleep with your teacher?!" Was I just imagining it, or was the professor getting hysterical?

“I love him,” Lys whispered defiantly, looking down.

“Excuse me?” We were stared at in disbelief.

"We love each other," I said to my sweetheart, taking his hand in mine. The woman in front of us exhaled audibly and shook her head.

“If that’s the case, then everything is fine.”

We looked up in surprise.

"My goodness, I thought you were only sleeping with him so you wouldn't have to practice math."

“Mom!!!” They both looked at each other angrily.

"Stop it, Lysander. Your move isn't particularly clever either. So we're even."

"Okay, I'll accept that," my student said meekly, and both faces relaxed again. What was this? A negotiation?

“As for you, Thilo…” Mrs. Schmidt began, but I immediately interrupted her.

“I don’t want special treatment at university, nor do I want to continue to take money for tuition.”

"Oh, that surprises me. I actually wanted to say there won't be a raise, and because of the university... You'll definitely get special treatment there. Because from now on, I'll be keeping a close eye on your work." Lys was about to object, but I just stroked his cheek soothingly.

"I can live with that." In that regard, not much could go wrong for me. I was simply enjoying my studies, and I was in the top ten. What more could I want?

"Then everything's settled. Okay, dinner's in ten minutes. Get ready by then." And she disappeared from the room again.

“That was a close call,” I said with relief.

“That was just the first phase.”

“You mean it can get even crazier?”

"That too. But she'll test you a few more times first," Lys explained, not exactly enthusiastically, as she stood up and put on a loose-fitting T-shirt.

So these were the clothes he wore at home. Everything looked a bit faded and two sizes too big. A little smile crept onto my lips at the sight of this, because it just looked too cute.

“You’re the first one to smile when I tell you what my mom is planning,” my sweetheart wondered, frowning at me.

"I'll just let your mother's phases come to me. There's nothing I can do about it anyway," I said, shrugging. "Besides, you made me grin," I admitted quietly, tugging meaningfully at his oversized shirt.

"Hey. I know I don't look particularly sexy in them, but they're really comfortable. Especially for at home," Lys tried to justify herself.

“I think you look cute in it,” I whispered, staring at the floor in embarrassment.

"Cute?" he repeated my words. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I nervously played with my fingers and nodded my head slightly. "So you think I'm cute in these rags," my sweetheart giggled, sitting promptly on my lap and wrapping his legs around my waist.

Then he put his arms around me, pulling himself even closer to my body. I, on the other hand, didn't dare touch him in the slightest. Holding hands or a quick stroke on the cheek was still okay. But just the stroke on his bare shoulder earlier had triggered what I'd been missing the whole time: the famous butterflies in my stomach. But everything in such a concentrated dose that I thought thousands of butterflies were tickling my stomach from the inside with their wings. It was overwhelming and way too much at once. Meanwhile, Lys was nibbling on my earlobe and neck. His fingers were just finding their way under my shirt when we heard someone calling from outside.

“You have five minutes left.”

Annoyed, my sweetheart pulled his hands back and looked at me.

"You look strange. Are you okay?" Lys asked worriedly.

"So far, yes. It's just all a bit much to start with," I answered quietly.

"You're very sensitive to touch, you know that? As soon as I breathe on you, you immediately get goosebumps. And I haven't even done anything yet."

He had his arm around my neck and was stroking my neck with his fingertips. How could I possibly have a normal conversation like that?

"I don't respond like that to touch. I respond like that to you."

For a brief moment there was absolute silence. We didn't notice the muffled chirping of birds outside, nor the clatter of dishes from the kitchen. For a few seconds we simply looked at each other. We looked deep into each other's eyes. Then we kissed. At first, very timidly and carefully, as if the other were made of sugar and might burst apart at any moment. Then I felt Lys's tongue demandingly stroke my lips. Only hesitantly did I open my mouth, and when our tongues met, a fireball of emotions exploded inside me, making me go black for a moment.

“You react as intensely and innocently as a little child,” my sweetheart grinned, stroking mine with his nose.

"I'm sorry. I'm trying, but I can't seem to control it."

"Hey, you don't have to apologize for anything. Besides, I think that's..." he thought for a moment, "cute."

I couldn't help but smile at him, transfigured with love.

"Come on. We should go to the kitchen. Otherwise my mom will get on my nerves again."

"Wait a minute. Should I have dinner too?"

"Sure. She said WE should get ready. That's the second phase, by the way."

“Oh, how reassuring.”

We both grinned at each other, I got my things ready, and then we walked into the kitchen together. Everything there was American-style. On one side was a large kitchenette equipped with all kinds of modern appliances (even the refrigerator had an ice cube dispenser). In front of it, I saw a counter with bar stools. On the other side was a table with four chairs, richly covered.

Lys led me to one of the chairs and then sat down next to me. His mother sat opposite him. Her hair, which she usually tied tightly back, now fell far over her shoulders. Instead of one of her suits, she wore simple, faded jeans and a lumberjack shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The whole thing made the woman look even younger and, above all, more beautiful.

“So, how did things go for you today?” Lys broke the silence and reached for a slice of bread.

"Just stop it," his mother groaned. "Some professors are so petty."

At the same time, she poured half of her glass with juice. Unfortunately, the bottle was already empty.

"Oh. Honey, could you please go down to the cellar and get two new bottles? I don't have any more up here."

My friend frowned at his mother. Then he slowly stood up and narrowed his eyes.

“This is a farce.”

"In any case."

Annoyed, Lys took the plastic bottle from her hand and left the kitchen. As soon as she heard the apartment door open, Mrs. Schmidt put down her sandwich and looked directly at me. I hadn't dared to touch anything until now.

"Okay. Let's not beat around the bush. Since when has this been going on between you two?"

Oh man. I felt like a little kid who had secretly snacked on the forbidden chocolate.

“Since today,” I answered meekly.

"So you haven't slept together yet?" she asked, surprised, to which I shook my head. "Hmm, you've been working for me for a month," she mused aloud, then continued in a more conciliatory tone. "He never had this much patience with the others. You must really mean something to him."

Confused, I looked up at my professor.

"The thing is, two years ago, his first love broke up with him. He was so depressed that he first stopped looking at anyone, and then only glanced at everyone. He's still very young, but I thought once he'd let off some steam, he'd calm down again. Lately, I'd been worried about the wear and tear. And now you come along and tame my eccentric spirit."

"I haven't tamed him, and I never want to. I just feel incredibly strongly about him. That's all."

Mrs. Schmidt looked at me briefly, but then she began to smile.

"Good." That seemed to settle everything for the professor, because she picked up her bread again and took a delicious bite. "Help yourself," she invited me kindly, and obediently, I reached for a slice of bread, butter, and cheese.

The mood had lightened considerably and we were just discussing a few technical topics when Lys finally came back into the kitchen.

"Say, honey, where have you been for so long? We were about to send a search party after you."

"Very funny. The old bag from downstairs wanted me to bring her two crates of seltzer from her basement because her rummy club is coming over tomorrow, and I don't know how exciting that's going to be," my friend grumbled, putting the two juice bottles on the table and sitting down next to me again.

“This is an elderly lady who is happy to have someone to talk to,” the professor tried to reassure her son.

“Can’t she talk to her half-dead friends tomorrow?”

"Lysander!" The woman shook her head admonishingly, but couldn't suppress a smile. Then she turned back to me. "Where were we?"

“With Professor Jentzsch,” I helped her out.

"Ah, right. Well, it's a little too theoretical for me."

"I agree. If he included more practical examples in his readings, the topic would be much easier to understand," I agreed with Ms. Schmidt.

I was just taking a bite of my bread when I looked over at Lys. He was just staring apathetically at his mother, oblivious to the fact that his glass was already full while he poured the juice.

"Light!"

Startled, he looked at me, then at the table where a puddle had formed.

“Shit!” Finally, my sweetheart put the bottle aside and jumped up to get the paper towel.

“What are you doing?” His mom had also gotten up, and they were both now dabbing the juice off the table.

“Sorry.” That was all Lys could say.

Something seemed to have completely irritated him. I didn't find out exactly what until 45 minutes later, when we finished dinner and were alone in his room again. Mrs. Schmidt had said goodbye to me after dinner with a book.

"What did you do to my mom?" my lover suddenly asked me. He was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His arms were folded behind his head and his legs crossed again. I was sitting cross-legged next to him, leaning against the wall.

"What do you think?"

"Come on, Thilo. I know you were talking about me. But no one has ever been able to talk to my mom so casually afterward."

"Only briefly."

"Don't keep me in suspense. Tell me!"

With a sigh, I explained what had happened. Lys had sat up and was looking dejectedly at the floor.

"Man. She really went too far with that."

"Hey. She's just worried."

He looked up in surprise.

“It doesn’t bother you that I’ve slept with so many people?”

I smiled at him lovingly and stroked his cheek.

"Honestly, it made me sad. You must have really loved him if you had to distract yourself with someone else for so long."

Lys snuggled between my arms and moved his slim body as close to mine as possible.

"I did. Alex was my childhood friend. We'd known each other since kindergarten and grew up together. We were always just doing stupid things. Maybe it was precisely because we'd known each other for so long. We didn't last longer than six months together. He was way too nice to me, and I... I don't know. I was an idiot. It was better the way it turned out. After all, that's how I got to know you."

He kissed me down my neck, across my chin, and to my lips. Then he took my face in both hands and looked deep into my eyes. Lys must have noticed that I was hesitant to return his kiss.

"I'll never be able to completely forget Alex. He is and will always be a part of my life. But I don't love him anymore. I realized that when I first saw you. I only want you."

I couldn't quite get used to the idea that my sweetheart had loved someone so much that he had to endure two years of frustration to get over him. What if he met this Alex again? What if the guy suddenly showed up at his door and wanted him back? How would Lys decide?

I couldn't possibly ask my sweetheart these questions, because he wouldn't give me an answer anyway. Besides, I didn't want to force him to choose. Right now, he was here, here with me. And that was all that mattered to me right now.

"I trust you," I whispered in his ear and kissed him for the first time on my own initiative. Lys beamed at me with joy, and we lay on his bed until late that evening, cuddling like crazy.

---

A good two weeks had passed, and I was standing in a club full of black people. It was Saturday, and my boyfriend and his band were finally supposed to perform. They were allowed to rock out for an hour and a half, after which a DJ would come on to get the rest of the crowd going. So Lys and his friends were sort of the opening act.

My boyfriend had said goodbye half an hour ago and gone to their changing room with the others. I didn't want to get in his and his colleagues' way, so I preferred to watch their performance from the front of the stage. And it was simply amazing! The crowd was cheering and the group was celebrating. It felt like Lys was singing just for me, like his turquoise stars were shining on me. He was absolutely amazing.

After the encore was over, I walked along the bar to the back of the booths. I just couldn't stand it any longer without my sweetheart. I was just turning the corner when I stopped mid-stride. A reporter crew from some magazine had taken over the four of them and some other guy.

Long, black hair, elegantly tied back, tall, broad shoulders, but not fat. He was wearing a gothic-style suit that made him look really good. Too good. Because he was constantly prancing around my sweetheart. Here were a few photos where he put his arm around his shoulder—purely in a friendly way, of course—and there was an interview where the guy touched his back and maybe whispered a suitable answer in his ear.

Who the hell was that guy? And why did Lys just let it happen? I was seething with jealousy. The fact that everyone hugged each other again after the reporters had left didn't help calm things down. He actually held onto him longer than the rest of the band members. Then everyone came up to me, after all, I was standing next to their booth.

Everyone, except Lys and the guy. Because he was holding my sweetheart back and started talking to him quietly. I was really tempted to just go and drag my sweetheart away, because he didn't look happy during this conversation. He stared dejectedly at the ground the whole time and nodded every now and then. But the other three won me over first.

"Well, Thilo. What did you think of us?" Micha jumped up to me excitedly. I forced myself to look away from Lys and tried to focus on the totally exhausted, yet overjoyed-looking kids in front of me.

"You guys were absolutely amazing! My ears are still deaf from all the cheering next to me."

"I thought the acoustics weren't that great. The system could have been better coordinated," said Kevin, the guitarist.

“I don’t know anything about that, but it sounded absolutely awesome on stage.” So I put his last doubts to rest.

"Come on, let's go up front and celebrate a little more. André said it would be enough if we took everything down tomorrow. I'm in a terrible party mood," Anne announced, slipping her drumsticks into a convenient holder on her belt and jumping around the others until they finally said goodbye to me.

Standing alone again, I looked at Lys, which maybe I shouldn't have. Because the guy just reached under Lys's chin and gently lifted his head so he had to look at him. The guy continued to talk to him, and my sweetheart just nodded curtly with a look of grief on his face. That was enough! What gives this guy the right to torment my sweetheart like that?!

I started moving, stomping angrily toward them, when the guy let go of Lys's chin and my sweetheart practically jumped into his arms. The older one looked a bit surprised at first, but then hugged the younger one just as tightly. I stopped dead. What was that all about? First he lets me put him down, and then he throws himself into his arms? Who could possibly understand something like that? They stood there like that for a good minute before finally breaking away and coming toward me.

"Well then, have a nice evening," the guy grinned at me and tried to put a hand on my shoulder. But, furious as I was, I swatted it away.

"Fuck you," I snapped, glaring at him angrily. He frowned at me, then began to grin and turned to Lys.

“Clear that up,” he said curtly, and seconds later he disappeared around the next corner.

“Tell me, what was that about?” my sweetheart asked me angrily.

"I could ask you that, too. The way you jumped on him," I snapped back.

“You’re jealous again,” Lys said, stunned, and my cheeks burned hotly.

“That guy was dancing around you quite a bit.”

"That guy is our manager! That's his goddamn job!"

“I didn’t know that groping was now part of a manager’s job.”

I have no idea why I was so overreacting to the whole thing, but I couldn't bear to see my beloved in someone else's arms. Lys wasn't at all happy with my reaction. It looked more like he was about to punch me at any moment.

“That’s enough,” he said suddenly, grabbed my wrist and dragged me behind him.

I was so perplexed that it wasn't until minutes later, when we were already out on the street, that I asked where we were actually going.

"We need to sort something out," was the only answer I got. Twenty minutes later, we were standing in front of his apartment door, which he loudly slammed open.

“Be careful, your mom!”

“She’s on a training course and won’t be back until tomorrow evening.”

Lys dragged me into his room, pushed me onto his bed, and immediately sat on top of me. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and carelessly threw it aside. Then he began kissing up my neck, his fingers sneaking under my top, and his tongue inexorably forging its way into my mouth.

'Shit, what's going on here? This whole thing hadn't been fully discussed. He was unresponsive on the way here, and now he just wanted to make everything go away by seducing me???'

“Lys, wait,” I tried to stop him.

"No, I won't wait. Not a second longer. Only then will you finally understand how much you mean to me."

'Excuse me? He didn't want to sleep with me, did he?!' Okay, we'd been together for about two weeks, but other than holding hands, cuddling, and a few harmless kisses, nothing had happened. I was way too scared of anything more.

"I can't do this. Lys. Stop. STOP!!!"

Since my sweetheart still wouldn't stop pestering me, I got louder and louder. Finally, in a panic, I pushed him away, so he landed on his backside in front of the bed again. Breathing rapidly, I straightened up and looked down at Lys. He just stared at me, startled. Then he seemed to realize what he was trying to force through with all his might and suddenly looked around, confused and afraid.

"I'm sorry," he said, standing up and nervously running his hand through his hair. "Just forget about it."

And then he disappeared from the room. I heard the door rattle in the next room, so I got up and followed him into the bathroom. Lys was leaning over the sink, splashing water on her face.

"Lys?" I approached him hesitantly. What was going on here?

“We should stop this,” he said quietly.

“With what?” I asked, looking at him fearfully.

"With us."