"Hey, Takumi, want to go home together?"
"Huh?"
Class had ended. Takumi was only five steps away from the exit when he was stopped by the beautiful omega. Honestly, he had to stop his eyes from checking Jules out. The artist looked so nice in his baggy fit; an oversized denim overshirt that was rolled on the sleeves and a matching pair of bottoms. He had dangling earrings on that complemented his face very well.
He had his hips leaning against his desk as usual and his keys twirling on one finger. It's that car – the white Porsche 911 that made headlines on the school's social media accounts the moment it landed on MSU's ground. Takumi wondered what earned him this very gracious offer. Earlier in class, a group of students had claimed that they met Jules by chance at a restaurant and the visiting lecturer ended up paying for their whole table. He believed there was a rumor of Jules dropping five thousand dollars for a donation when a student in his class casually mentioned they were having a garage sale to raise money for their club.
So maybe this was another one of Jules' generosity. Takumi's secondhand jeep broke down and so he had been making use of public transport, the school's bike rental, or his own legs. Perhaps the artist had seen him walking to class and felt bad.
Amy, who heard of the exchange while walking next to Takumi, looked between him and Jules before she hurriedly excused herself with her squeaky voice and scurried ahead. "Uhm," Takumi dumbly replied. He would've instantly said yes, but he and Amy were both convinced that Christa, who had been delaying her confession a few times at that point, was finally going to do it that day. And as part of the 'Jules'-confessor-alumni-association', he would like to not ruin it for her. "I think I c-can't do it today," he said instead.
"Hmm? Why not?"
It's the smile and the tilt of the head that made it so hard to say no to Jules. But Takumi eyed Christa's nervous form in one far corner of the classroom. In fact, didn't he also stand in the same spot the day he decided he'd confess?
"Well, I'm kind of busy," Takumi replied.
"Are you?" Jules' arms were then crossed and so were his feet. He said it so casually, but something in his tone seemed to say, 'You're lying, aren't you?'
Takumi shifted in guilt, "Well, I mean, aren't you… a little occupied yourself now?" he subtly threw a glance towards Christa. The older followed the direction of his gaze, before turning back to face him and said.
"No? Why would I?"
Wasn't Jules known to always give an ear to all of his admirers? He didn't judge them and he treated their confession with care. "She has prepared 3 pages worth of confession speech for you," Takumi said. Word has it that she started out with 1 page the first time she planned to confess, but after a few times of delaying, the number of words on the page kept growing.
"Are they better than your flip book?" Jules blurted. Takumi blushed behind his face mask at the mention of his own confession. It took him two weeks to finish that animated flip book. It had the animation of himself going through many comical hurdles to bring his heart to Jules.
"Well, maybe," Takumi hesitated.
"Are you telling me you want me to listen to her then?"
"That's not what I mean. You can do what you want-"
"Well, if it's what I want, I wouldn't even give her the time of the day. But, if Takumi insists".
"That's not what I meant".
The last two students besides himself and Christa had just exited the room. Christa slowly approached Jules' desk with her notes held tight to her chest. Her face was pale, but she was ready. "Jules –"
Jules turned to her with a wan smile. "No. The answer is no," yet his words were as sharp as a knife.
"B-but I –"
"I'm not interested".
Christa pushed forward with her memorized speech, perhaps out of nerve, or maybe thinking this was just another step in confessing: being told no. "I admire you. I really admire you. I -," She took a deep breath, "I grew up not believing in my –"
"Christa, I apologize. It's sweet of you, it really is. But I don't have the time for the speech, I hope you understand. The answer is no".
Takumi stood still in disbelief at what he just witnessed. The rejection was brutal. He watched a splotch of pink growing bigger and bigger from the center of Christa's face, before she went all red and tears spilled from her big blue eyes. She bolted out of the room, crashing against' Takumi's shoulder on the way out.
"So?"
Takumi turned robotically towards the other person in the room, who was smiling at him as he again twirled his keys on a finger. "Are you still busy or are you up for a ride?"
XXX
"… it was wonderful! You know how he's always so quiet and not budging? Well, he actually has a lot to talk about – we talked about hobbies, the world, philosophy, oh, but most importantly, art. We talked about art. He actually cares about art; do you know he actually has a secret Instagram account where he posts comics?"
Emma, who had been staying in their shared accommodation to do paperwork for Julian, stopped typing on her laptop and looked up from the screen. Her employer, the oh-so-beautiful prime omega Julian Armes, was sitting on the arm of the leather club chair with a cup of tea in hand, with his body facing slightly towards the large window overlooking the front of the townhouse they're staying in. She squinted at his relaxed pose, "Who?"
He shook his head like he was baffled the personal assistant even asked, "Well Takumi, of course".
Her face turned bewildered at the mention of the name, "You spoke to him??"
"Yeah. As people do, Em; you think I don't know how to human?"
"Like, conversed? You… converse to him?"
"- with him, Em. I converse with him. Actually, I gave him a ride. He's been walking or taking the bus to school, I noticed, which is why the good Samaritan I am decided to offer him a ride. So we conversed on the ride," Jules shrugged one shoulder cutely, "It's actually not that hard".
The painter sipped his tea thoughtfully, then added, "He apologized that we had to take the longer route because the road was blocked," then a wistful smile, "Isn't that cute?"
Huh. So Emma's employer actually tried to talk to the person he's trying to get to his nest. Emma let out a subtle scoff at that. That was a first for her employer. If you ever work so closely to the great Julian Armes, you'd know he doesn't do the chasing game.
He was always the ultimate goal; the main catch. Jules' love interests were either already courting him or already had Emma on their tails. Oftentimes, Emma was the one doing most of the legwork. Julian never had to move a finger – except to point at the person for Emma, perhaps. He didn't have to necessarily make the chase; he simply made the choice.
"O…kay?" She slowly voiced, while internally cringing at the slight pitch of excitement in her employer's voice, "So what now? You guys are getting along?"
"I like to believe so. I don't quite understand how that brain of his work," A frown formed on that beautiful face, "He acts like a stranger in class, which is weird. Didn't he love me? He should've chased me down," here he sighed, "Earlier today, he let Christa approach me to do her 2-week-late confession".
He paused to sip from his cup, then continued with a shrug, "It's frustrating, but he is cute. So I'll let him be… for now".
From her seat behind the heavy desk, Emma gaped at her employer with pure horror, because Jules might be a genius in so many things…
… but he clearly had no idea how the minds of commoners work.
XXX
Emma wondered how Jules did not see it.
West wildly differed from the rest of his admirers.
Among all the expectant star-struck faces that would soak up any drop of attention Jules was willing to give out, West maintained an uninterested and serious mannerism, enough that it got you wondering if the confession was even real. In Jules' painting class, West's focus stayed nailed to his canvas, his voice a low volume – a contrast to the blush that would spread across the likes of Sandeep's faces or the desk-grating flinch Bale would perform at the slightest mention of their name from Jules' own lips.
That unmoving dedication towards his task, the way he gazed at his work or his notes– so focused and silent – would tickle anyone to try and disturb it, especially one as controlling and plotting as Julian Armes.
Possibly, that's why Julian felt the urge to dip his toes in this one.
Emma was sitting in her usual secluded corner in the classroom when Jules, yet again, initiated this little dance with his current infatuation. Julian was in the middle of baiting West a classroom interaction, even dragging other students into it just to be subtle.
"- Now, that is an interesting take, Theo. I agree that humans indulge in art as a means to produce, to leave something behind, a footprint. But many times, people start in the act of producing art without thinking that far ahead. It could be spontaneous, a whim. Anyone can share what else would drive people to do art? Takumi?"
The Asian young man answered from behind his mask, and it was clear enough for everyone to hear. Of course, that was not good enough for Julian. "Takumi, you know I can't hear you if you don't raise your voice".
West blinked and diverted his gaze to Julian. He took a moment, as if to reconsider his decision, but then his long fingers went to the loop of his mask behind his right ear. And whenever he did this, Emma recognized the almost unnoticeable shiver Julian sported at the knowledge that his little obsession was unmasking himself for him.
And the deep voice that came out of such a deer-like face always shocked Emma. "As a catharsis, I guess?"
To whatever answer West voiced, Jules would challenge, almost like a tug on the sleeve to dance longer. "Care to elaborate?"
West was already halfway through putting his mask back when he froze, only to untuck the loop behind his ear again so he could speak more clearly. He would lean back to his seat, eyes going to the high ceiling of the old structure as he scour his thoughts. "As in the lack of stress on the result or even the mean. It's more so the intent; art as a release. Imagine a person who's frustrated and has the desire to put them onto paper as a poem, and when all that frustration runs out, they stop writing," he then awkwardly finished it with, "That's what I think it is…, I suppose".
Jules would respond with a: "Brilliant answer, Mr. West", which always earned him a glance from West before he resumed looking down at his notes. After all, Jules was known to refer to all of his students by their first names, and it's on very rare cases that he did otherwise.
It was a flirtation so mild that it was barely recognizable. For someone of Julian Armes' caliber, it would be considered embarrassing. A prime omega is a master at seduction and manipulation, yet this anomaly that is Takumi West confused even the most experienced seducer like Jules.
Because to Emma, it was obvious that West never planned for his confession to manifest into something more between him and Julian. Jules appeared to be aware of this on a subconscious level, yet Emma wasn't sure if the prime omega actually realized this. After all, the artist was not used to having to chase for someone's attention. They all came to him with enthusiasm, and so he never had to work for one's affection.
Soon, the class came to an end right at 12.00 pm.
Emma was carefully stacking the canvases submitted for the freestyle painting assignment from 2 weeks ago on a separate desk. She only recognized Julian's still form at the corner of her vision and thought he had his mind on something, or one of these paintings might've struck an inspiration, however impossible that might sound.
But then she heard him turning down one conversation attempt from the students to the next. "Hm, yeah, I'll see you next week", "Hmm? Oh. Okay. Bye", "…. What was that, sorry? Right. I wasn't following"; those were all quite uncharacteristic responses for someone deemed to be the favorite lecturer of the year.
Emma finally decided to check on her employer, only to see him shooting invisible lasers into one particular canvas with his stare, with the tip of his thumb's nail in his teeth. "What's up?" She voiced. The omega appeared to barely hear her. Then he said:
"He changed it".
"Changed what?" She had no idea who the taller was even talking about until she saw the canvas. That color – that had to be West's painting. However, what was a painting with a silhouette of a man standing with a relaxed pose became that of a football player. The color scheme was full of grays, reds, and browns, and gave a completely different vibe from what it was the last she saw it.
"He changed the painting," Jules did not sound mad. In fact, his voice maintained its airy quality. Yet, the tone was thick with disbelief.
"Uhhh….," she was lost on what to say, "It can pass as a proper art student's work, in my opinion". It was no secret; West was probably one of the handful of actually artistically talented students in their 'Painting for Beginners' course that they open for non-Art majors. This one in particular was well done, with the movement dynamic of the figure in the canvas portraying an actual football player's move.
To Julian Armes, however, only one fact mattered in this case: West's work, which Jules once teased for having taken the shape of himself, took the form of another man – a man that was definitely not Julian Armes.
Jules shook his head like he just heard a distasteful joke and waved the hand he nervously just bit the nails of, "Why did he change the painting??" He gave her a thin-lipped smile, "What did I do? Do you think he hates me?"
Emma sensed the disappointment oozing from the prime omega as he studied the painting in front of him. Emma's eyes searched around the classroom for West. The boy was standing by his desk, taking his time to chat with Bale. To Emma's surprise, Bale was openly giggling at something West had said.
These two had made friends with each other.
West then waved to Bale before walking ahead to the exit. When he was close enough, with his eyes set for the door, Jules muttered loud enough for him to hear. "So you changed your painting".
Somehow, despite him not mentioning West's name, West stopped himself. He looked around like he was making sure it was directed to him. "Uh, yeah," he shifted awkwardly in his big flannel overshirt, "I thought that was the point?"
He was not wrong. Jules was the one to tell them that freestyling would mean going on a whim. If you want to change the direction of the painting, you can just change it.
"That was the point, Takumi? Really?" The scolding was vocalized more like a teasing. Jules tilted his head to the side with one hand propping the back of his neck.
Takumi diverted his gaze away from that sight, looking a little flustered, "Well, I can't just paint… you, you know? You're the lecturer and I'm…," Emma wondered if the word "the student" was muffled by his face mask or if he let it hang in the air unmentioned.
A couple of students walked past West while curiously looking at the exchange, probably thinking West got in trouble. West shifted awkwardly again.
"So you're telling me it actually pains you to paint me," Jules said.
This time, West looked at Jules – and Emma finally got it. When Jules said he had teddy bear eyes, he meant that gaze. His eyes grew dark and almost sad-puppy-like.
"No," West simply replied. And for a few seconds after that, the two were just staring at each other, completely ignoring the other students passing by in the background. As if something from above ordered for that moment to be broken, someone called out to Takumi from outside of the room.
"Oi, Takumi! What are you standing there all quiet for??"
That was when West finally dropped his staring competition with Jules and nodded to say, "I'll take my leave. I'll see you next week".
After he left, Jules turned his head to Emma looking all… giddy.
"I just want to squeeze him, Em. He's so fucking cute".
This time, Emma made sure her employer could see the cringe she felt on her face.
XXX