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Erwin could have too much to say, too many plans to execute, and more heaps of too’s that renders him as overwhelming; but he, for once in his life, tried to tone it down and act in normalcy. Just like a little shark swimming alongside a school of fish, pretending ever so silently to avoid alarming its company.
Oh, bet you thought you were the only one who felt the jitters, didn’t you?
He did at some point, too — at some point he might never admit.
And when he’s a few steps away from becoming a professor, he ponders about quitting. What was once a dream inspired by his father is now deemed a big fish imparting the same alienation to smaller fishes. He’s getting quite sick of it. Pretending without a solid goal was never his forte.
Perhaps it was your naivety that warranted a reconsideration.
It started when you went to the teacher’s table and approached him instead of the professor in charge, “I think I’d opt to ask a fellow student instead of that old man,” you sheepishly answered when he asked, “he’s so scary — why do professors love to be scary? And you honestly seem to be way smarter than he is.”
“Am I, now?” he feigned surprise with amusement still palpable, “And if he hears this first thing in the morning, what then?”
“Tell him what? That you’re smarter than him?”
You were curious, quite amazed even, that he might have the gall to confront the professor about his substandard intellect.
“What do you need help with?”
You flashed him a book and flipped the pages on the particular article. “Whenever our prof asks you to pitch something, you always have additional things to say in this topic. And for some reason, the more you overtake the discussion, the more I become interested too!” You weren’t able to help yourself, and that’s what Erwin could see very well — eyes almost sparkling, giddy composure, and a very drawn demeanor.
Erwin was never oblivious to his ability of drawing people’s interest if he wants to, but to see someone this enthusiastic about it?
How intriguing.
Is intriguing the right word for it?
No. Oh, no.
He thought you were cute. Spare him the cliché nuances but it’s been a while since he thought of someone as cute.
“And look,” you scooted nearer and pointed at a page. “The author who wrote this is a Smith. Don’t tell me you actually ghost wrote this? Is that why you tackled the topic so well?”
Erwin was not smiling when you went to him but now he lost the will to hide it.
“You’re really that great? Oh my, to ghost write one of my major—”
“My father. He’s the one who wrote that article.”
Your eyes widened and mouth formed a perfect O. Then there came a slow nod. Followed suit with another gasp. It ended with a smile — happy, much more enthusiastic smile. “Then I just came to the right person! Do tell me more!”
The dynamic then started. A very curious undergraduate, fresh in the field, and a book smart from masters, freshly burnt out, ain’t an unusual dynamic to create, after all.
The supposed module written by his dad about visual communication theory was eventually followed with more diverse issues. At first, Erwin playfully asked for a collateral in exchange for his knowledge. Before you meet at the library, he’d have you treat him a parfait. If he went an all nighter with his thesis, his request upon your daily meeting would be an iced Americano. In time, the small sweets became favors. In exchange for info dumping about the French revolution and the World War (you have no idea how perplexed Erwin was at reawakening this childhood habit — everyone thought it was annoying!) you must allot a whole weekend to see him. You, so dumbly drawn over what the slimy curves of his brain could offer in humanity, never deemed it as dates. If anything, it was weekend classes on your end.
At this point, cute is becoming an understatement for him.
He played along nonetheless. He has an ulterior motive, after all — a space in his brain to accommodate more knowledge, a space intended for you. Who are you? What’s inside your head aside from curiosity and willingness to cater his blabbers? What do you want to do aside from listening to him? Why do you — despite the vigor to know about the world — opt to stay as a measly listener? Why, despite your concern in human’s darkly inherent nature of using others for its own gain, don’t mind too much when he teases you into doing dumb favors for his benefit?
That’s what binds him to you the way you bind yourself to him. Erwin feels as though he’s speaking into a smiling void, and if there’s an unknown void — a gorgeous intriguing one at that — who else would be the most eager to explore it if not him?
When both of you went to the newly built Japanese convenience store and saw a pack of onigiri that piqued your cravings, Erwin finally noticed a quirk.
And Erwin — for the most time he’s been playing around your obliviousness — finally thought of taking things seriously upon noticing it.
You didn’t ask him for help even if the onigiri wrap had broken and you were forced to shove all the rice into your mouth. Just like how you didn’t ask for his assistance when he noticed your difficulty adjusting to university life every semester. You don’t ask something that requires his action, attention, and guidance. You seek nothing of him but his blabbers, his info dump, and every measly thought coming out of his mouth. Nothing more, nothing less.
He bought you another onigiri, taught you how to properly unwrap it as both of you walked, and shoved the rest in your mouth thereafter. You groaned but he just said, “You’re not just a listening outlet. Ask people for help if you need it.”
You took your time chewing (angrily so) before responding, “No. I’ll be way more out of your league if I let that happen.”
Erwin halted his steps, “Come again?"
"I’m no match for you. If you realize how naive and easily fooled and clumsy I really am, then things will start to get annoying on your end. Let me impose myself as someone knowledgeable, independent, and all the things that you are, okay.”
Oh no.
Erwin let his face flat in utter hope that you wouldn’t notice the corner of his lips shaking. He wants to chuckle, to tease you, to coo as he finally cups your cheek and kisses your forehead because of how plainly and dumbly adorable that statement was. He already knows how naive, easily fooled, and clumsy you really are. He’s the one who would before anyone else.
Above anything, though, Erwin was pleased, very pleased because he unleashed a facet of you. Finally, finally revealing something about you aside from a perfect company for his eccentricity. The fact that this facet of you is also frustrated at the possibility of losing him gave him a tremendous gush of warmth — gushing, gushing, and gushing towards the unstoppable urge of offering a proposition.
“The only time naivety can be bad is when people start taking advantage of it, and even then it would not be your fault.”
“It will be my fault!” you disagreed, “and it will be a hassle for you who’s so used to being so independent! Don’t you think I’ve been childish and irritating all along?”
“How so?”
You gave him a puzzled look, there’s no way he seriously didn’t think of that.
“How so?” He took a step nearer.
“Someone as brightly independent as you are would not deem people like me so pleasantly,” you cut yourself off from that. For all the times you had listened to Erwin, you just know how he would debunk what you just said. “T-that’s what I initially thought, hence the question.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” The proximity tightened. Erwin was not smiling, not a hint of amusement plastered on his face too. Only an inquiry, or perhaps a resolve to shatter how low you deem yourself. “Am I childish for not hesitating with my blabbers? Do I come off as irritating when I ask you out during a weekend like this?”
“No, you would never!”
“How do you see those, then?”
“I am fond of it, that’s why I stick with you until now. I am—” Heat crept up your face. You realized where he’s headed, and with his resolute yet patient face you just know he won’t let you have your way out of this. “I am… fond of your eccentricities. Even if people find it annoying.”
“Uh-huh,” the sharp blonde also sensed your awareness, hence his tone came more urging. “How do you think I see you then?”
Your cheeks puffed and eyes averted from his, perhaps your futile attempt of resisting something he had already established very well.
Erwin repeated as he called your name, “How do you think I see you?”
“Tolerable,” you uttered weakly.
He let out a strained chuckle, “Really? You really would opt for that word?”
“It’s getting cold, Erwin. Let’s just—”
“Am I just someone tolerable for you, hm?”
His tone was, in fact, a well-defining factor that he very much knew the answer.
He knows you like him, just like the bright sharp man that he is.
“Look at me.”
You did, though with a slight glare.
A stern command followed, “Answer my question.”
“You know the answer.”
“Answer my question.”
“I like you! You’re not just someone tolerable. I like you. But!” You still tried to argue, “I’m not the same as you are, not as redeeming as you are, not on par with your league, and even though I sound like someone with inferiority complex, I see this as a serious glaring factor. I’m just—” you frustratingly sighed, “—not someone really dependable and compatible with you, Erwin. Not with the likes of you.”
“The empathy, the headspace to handle my company when most deem it as overwhelming, the willingness to stay despite the pile of eccentricities, all with genuine interest — you say that as if I never find these as the most endearing.”
Your cheeks tightened further. The hot feeling compensated for the outside cold. You looked at him with surprise, only to be met with resolute eyes.
“You had an inkling about my affection but chose to ignore it because of how you see our relationship,” upon observing your further surprise, he added. “And now you’re finally realizing how wrong that is.”
“I’m sorry.”
He stayed silent.
You took a step forward and tugged the end of his sleeve, “I’m sorry, Erwin.”
But he’s not angry. He’s still more pleased than angry. He won’t let you out of this without gaining a worthwhile result, after all.
“Despite listening to me most of the time, you still seem to assume a lot of things.”
“I know.”
He raised his brows, face softened but still taunting, “And what does that mean?”
“You win this one now, okay. I’m sorry. Don’t get angry now.”
“Oh, I know. I sure won this one.”
The supposed glare was quickly replaced by surprise when he cupped your cheeks and kissed the tip of your nose.
“Right?” he whispered.
Here he goes, as bright as he usually is. The collateral exchange for his knowledge, the sweet treats turned into sweet favors on the weekends. You really did treat your time with him as classes, but he was a subject you very much loved to tackle. And if you’re apparently someone who could lovingly coexist with him despite your unredeeming qualities, then you’d gladly give him the honor.
You defeatedly sighed, “You always do, Erwin. You always do.”
He hummed and held the tip of your chin with his fingers. Before going for the lips, he whispered, "Can I get my reward now?"
Oh, you felt your heart swell. As his broad rough hands play around your waist, you tipped his head to your level and ever so slowly, indulged on his win. He took it with sweet vigor — pulled you towards him as if he couldn't have you any nearer — and cupped your cheek much harsher than earlier. He didn't stop until you were seeking air. When he let go, he gave your swollen lower lip a small peck.
“Have you accepted my apology, though?”
Erwin chuckled lowly and buried his head at the crook of your neck. His large build sought support — leaning on you with arms engulfing your waist. He kissed a spot on your neck and replied, “I earned my win fairly. Earn my forgiveness with the same competence.”
“What should I do for the smartest man in humanity to forgive me?”
“Let the smart ass love you for all he could.”