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Ivan had never considered himself as someone weak-willed.
Cast away by his Russian family and left to fend for himself in the United States at the tender age of ten, he had faced hardship head-on, forging his own path through sheer determination. With grit and perseverance, he secured housing and pursued an education all on his own. But he worked hard and eventually acquired housing and an education all on his own. Despite his unfortunate circumstances, he had excelled in school, which is why he was here today, studying in the Astrophysics program of the prestigious Harvard. He had clawed and scratched his way here, stepping over and occasionally on others along his journey. Among his peers, he was often viewed as cold-hearted and ruthless, traits he had come to accept as necessary armor in his journey to success.
Harvard stood as a bastion of academic excellence, a fortress of intellect where admission was a prize reserved only for the most brilliant minds. They were intelligent, hardworking people with extraordinary accomplishments, just like Ivan. Unfortunately, that was their fatal flaw. Many of them were dull, antisocial loners who, like Ivan, had climbed their way here with no regard for those they stepped on to accomplish what they had.
That's why he hadn't been difficult to spot at all.
Ivan had been reviewing his syllabus on the way to his lecture when someone crashed into him, knocking the syllabus out of his hands. Pissed, Ivan turned to scowl at the culprit, but However, his anger dissolved in an instant when they locked eyes.
It felt like his dull world had suddenly erupted into colors when he was met with a vision of warmth and vitality, blue eyes, sun-colored hair, and golden skin. Then, the world's most amazing voice cried out:
"Oh, I'm sorry!" The stranger's voice rang out. He bent down to pick up his syllabus, dusting the dirt off it, "Here you go, good as new!" He smiled brightly, handing the folder back to him. Ivan, however, was still in shock. His eyes never left the other's face as he absentmindedly accepted his folder back.
For a moment, the longest moment of Ivan's life, they just stood there, not knowing what to say. Just as his lips parted to speak, a voice broke through the air, pulling Ivan back to reality.
"Alfred! What are you doing over there? Come on!" An annoyed British-accented voice called from afar.
"Coming, Artie!" He called back, then turned to Ivan with an apologetic smile, "Sorry again, it was nice to meet you!"
Ivan stood frozen as the blonde—Alfred—ran past him, waving back in goodbye. Holding the syllabus close to his chest, he slowly turned to watch him go. He stared after his bright blue bomber jacket that was flapping in the October wind, his vibrant form standing out in the sea of dark monotony. Ivan stood there for a long time, still processing their interaction.
Then, to his disbelief, he blushed.
Ivan peered over the book he had been trying and failing to read for the past half hour.
He sat at the same table he always did, the one tucked between the shelves and the potted plant, and for one reason only. Several feet away, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows, sat the object of his affection. In the bright afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, Alfred appeared almost ethereal, his features softened by the gentle glow. Ivan stared as the air conditioning swept at his feathery hair, unable to take his eyes off him.
It had all begun with a chance encounter in the library. Ivan had sauntered in one day, hoping to distract his jumbled mind by studying. He roamed the astrophysics section, eyes boring into the all-too-familiar titles lined up on the shelf. When he bent down to pick one, he was startled when his fingers brushed against another, and judging by the surprised yelp on the opposite side, the owner of the fingers was startled too.
"Oh— Sorry! Didn't know you were gonna take it too."
Ivan's eyes widened, recognizing the voice. He peered over the higher shelf, his heart quickening when he spotted the familiar mop of sun-colored hair. "It is okay," he answered, praying his voice wasn't wavering. He didn't lower his face for fear that he would recognize him and label him a stalker. "Do you, um, want the book?"
"No, it's fine, I'll find another one. I've read that one millions of times already anyway," he chuckled, and Ivan felt his heart flutter.
"I-I see...good luck to you, then," Ivan immediately cursed himself for stuttering, but thankfully, Alfred didn't seem to mind. "Thanks! Hope you enjoy the book, whoever you are," he laughed in farewell.
I don't think I'll be able to focus on the book, Ivan thought as he watched the head of blonde hair walk away.
Since that fateful encounter, Ivan found himself drawn to the library day after day. Picking out books at random, he would settle into his chosen seat, pretending to read while stealing glances at him. His vantage point was quite good; hidden behind the foliage, but still had a clear view of Alfred, who was flitting between the pages of his notebook and the keyboard of his laptop.
Ever since bumping into Alfred, he seemed to be everywhere Ivan turned. He noticed that he was quite popular and had many friends, he greeted people—classmates and professors alike—cheerfully, and he didn't hesitate to help someone if they dropped something, were looking lost, or were being harassed. Despite his popularity and numerous friends, Alfred often retreated to the solitude of the library, with his laptop, pile of books, and cup of coffee as his only company.
Even in class, Ivan found himself increasingly aware of Alfred's presence. Ivan assumed he had been too absorbed in the lecture to look at anyone else, but nowadays, he hardly paid attention to the professor, as his attention would stray to the figure a few seats behind him, uncharacteristically serious as he diligently typed away on his laptop and scribbled calculations in his notebook. Every time the professor asked questions, his hand was the first one up, and his answers were always correct. When not typing notes, writing down calculations, or answering questions, Alfred simply sat there, toying with a Rubix cube. He always seemed to be moving, unable to sit still and focus without something for his hands to fiddle with.
Not only is he beautiful and kind, Ivan thought as he stared at him from the safety of his hidden table, but he's smart and strong. How perfect can one person be?
Ivan sighed for the fifteenth time that day, knowing he could never approach him of his volition. He wasn't one to consider himself shy or lacking in willpower; after all, it took quite a lot of strength to be able to secure a place at Harvard. But when it came to approaching someone he liked, all that confidence seemed to evaporate. He couldn't bring himself to do something as simple as talking to someone. But then again, he's never talked to anyone he liked— or, more accurately, he's never liked anyone at all. This affection he harbored for Alfred was a once-in-a-lifetime, and that alone was enough to paralyze Ivan with fear of rejection. Despite his efforts, he couldn't muster the courage to strike up a conversation, especially when Alfred always seemed to be surrounded by others. Even now, when Alfred sat alone, Ivan hesitated, not wanting to intrude on what might be a rare moment of solitude.
Besides, Alfred was so cute, not to mention popular, he probably had a boyfriend already, or a girlfriend, who was he to assume? Or worse, what if he simply wasn't interested in relationships at all, which is why he was always alone in the library? And even if Alfred were available and interested in men, what chance did Ivan—a brooding loner feared throughout the campus—stand against someone as fun and exuberant as Alfred?
Ivan sighed for the sixteenth time. He put his book down, placing his head into his hands, groaning as he let his usual feelings for Alfred fester and make him feel awful for not having the courage to talk to him. Oh well, at least he could still stare at him—
Ivan froze.
And, a few tables away, Alfred froze too. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, a silent exchange that sent a rush of heat to Alfred's cheeks, prompting him to look away shyly, shrinking behind his laptop. It all happened in a matter of a second, and in that second, Ivan couldn't believe his eyes. His mind was floundering and his chest was hammering. He was in utter disbelief. A part of him thought he might have gone deranged from watching him so long that his brain had started to hallucinate.
What is happening? What is going on? He averted his eyes when he realized he was still staring in shock. He ducked under his book again, but eventually, curiosity got the best of him, and he began to sneak occasional glances. He could clearly see Alfred hiding behind his laptop, a deep red blush reaching the tip of his ears and the base of his neck. He looked so shy and uncertain, so unlike the typically confident man that Ivan had been stalking for the past few weeks.
It seemed that Alfred was of the same thought process since he was occasionally sneaking glances at Ivan too. Whenever they made eye contact, he'd snap his eyes back to his laptop, flustered.
Maybe?
For the first time, Ivan felt the glowing ray of hope shine down on him. Alfred was strong, if he discovered someone was stalking him, he would likely flip them off, or approach and slap them— and he didn't do any of those. Instead, he blushed and fidgeted where he sat. Now the two of them were hiding behind objects, nervous and flustered messes.
Despite his apprehensions, he dared to entertain the notion that Alfred's shy demeanor hinted at something else. Ivan's heart was pounding so powerfully that it was almost painful, it thumped in his ears and left them ringing, damp with cold sweat. Shakily, he put the book down.
I could try. Yes, I should. He is not the type to ridicule or mock people for expressing their feelings. And, he chanced another look at Alfred, whose lips were nervously pursed. That reaction is not one of fear or disgust. It is of something else— something similar to what I am feeling. Ivan's heart raced faster with every passing second. Even if he doesn't accept me, it will destroy me for the rest of my days if I do not try. Trembling almost violently, Ivan got to his feet. In the corner of his eye, he could see Alfred perk up.
Before he could stop himself, his feet moved of their own accord. Ivan almost forgot how to walk as he approached Alfred. He could feel himself trembling and swaying, and he immediately berated himself for how stupid he must look right now. Ivan had been through hell. He had been tossed into a new country and forced to live on the streets for years. He had suffered all of that, but he hadn't felt this level of nervousness before. Why was he so scared to talk to a slightly chubby, sweet-faced boy? What was wrong with him?
Or rather, what else was wrong with him?
Other than his cold personality, Ivan wasn't proud of his looks. His features, he believed, were far from conventional standards of attractiveness—a prominent nose, a towering stature, and hands marked by scars. Even his voice, bearing the distinct timbre of his Russian heritage, lacked the smooth allure of more esteemed accents.
It was too late to turn back now, though, as it was T-minus two seconds before he reached Alfred's table. His trembling made his vision shaky, but in the haze he could still see Alfred clearly. The afternoon sun was glowing behind him, bright and blinding, making Ivan feel like he was approaching a god.
He stopped a few inches away from the table. Alfred seemed to be speechless, staring at him in subtle disbelief. Ivan briefly noted that he looked even more stunning up close.
Now being so near to Alfred, Ivan felt fear clench his insides, and he wanted to desperately bolt and run away and go back to admiring from afar. Who was he to believe that someone like Alfred could ever reciprocate his feelings? The difference between them, from status to personality, was a distance too vast to bridge. Ivan was better off living a life of isolation.
But no, he can't turn back now. He was already here. Running away now would be the significantly worse option. At least, if he confessed, he could take the defeat gracefully.
"U-Um," Ivan began, fidgeting with the tails of his scarf. Alfred's brows lifted a bit, staring at Ivan with bated breath. Ivan took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, saying the following in quick succession: "H-Hello, I've been trying to talk to you for a long time now, I-I think you are the most amazing person I've ever known and I would like to get to know you better!"
Ivan clamped his mouth shut. He could've fallen to his knees in relief at finally saying it. A moment passed, and Ivan was puzzled by the lack of reaction. Fearful that Alfred might've run off while he was pouring his heart out, he cracked an eye open.
Alfred's blue eyes were wide and shimmering with emotion, his cheeks flushed a deep red. They remained in silence, thick and suffocating, as both were speechless and unable to conjure words. Bracing himself for rejection, he was surprised when Alfred eventually cleared his throat, looking away shyly. "Ah, t-thank you," he stammered, "Er— do you want to sit with me?"
Ivan stared. He stared for so long that Alfred became flighty, "Um, or maybe not— You might have somewhere to be—"
"Nyet!" Ivan suddenly exclaimed, startling Alfred, "I-I mean no, um, I-I'll sit." With a nervous shuffle, Ivan took the seat opposite Alfred. For a brief eternity, the silence was tense and awkward, neither knowing how to break the ice. Eventually, it was Alfred who found his voice.
"The book you were holding earlier was A Brief History of Time, right?" Alfred ventured. Ivan offered a silent nod, prompting him to continue. "A classic read for any astrophysics student. I usually keep Astrophysics for People in a Hurry with me since I'm always moving about, but my all-time favorite is Accessory to War. I was into collecting military figurines when I was younger, mostly fighter jets. I first got interested in it when I went on this field trip to a planetarium..."
As Alfred delved into his story, Ivan found himself smiling at the earnestness in his voice. With each word, Alfred's passion for his course shone through, his animated gestures expressing a genuine love for the subject. However, the longer he talked, the more he looked like he was regretting opening his mouth in the first place. By the time he was done, he looked nervous and ashamed. "Ah, sorry, I rambled there—"
"No," Ivan interjected gently, "It is okay. I enjoyed hearing you talk." Even more so the way Alfred's face had lit up at talking about his passions, but he didn't say that. The blonde reddened further. "Ah, t-thanks— um?"
"Ah, my name is Ivan. Ivan Braginsky."
"Alfred F. Jones. Nice to finally meet you properly," Alfred extended his hand in greeting. Ivan reciprocated the handshake but raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Properly?"
Alfred smirked. "I can always feel when someone's watching me. I've caught you a few times now, you just didn't notice."
Ivan's initial surprise quickly turned to shame, prompting him to retreat behind his scarf. "I-I apologize, I just— I find you very beautiful, and I...couldn't help myself."
He braced himself for a scold or a yell, but none came other than the world's greatest laugh. Peering up in disbelief, Ivan found Alfred's face scrunched up in laughter, and even after he had composed himself, his bright smile remained.
"Really? Well, I find you pretty attractive, too," Alfred smiled shyly, brushing his bangs aside. Ivan's cheeks flushed, gawking in astonishment at the admission. The sight made Alfred laugh again. "You seem pretty nervous, big guy."
Ivan winced, but Alfred had an easy-going smile when he said it, so he allowed himself to relax and smiled apologetically.
"I am sorry. I know I am acting quite weird, but I promise I am not like this all the time. It is just," Ivan hesitated, "I don't know if you remember, but we bumped into each other a month ago. Since then, I've admired you from afar, my every dream and thought has been consumed by you, I've fantasized about properly meeting for so long that this entire exchange feels like a hallucination. Even right now, I'm unsure if this is real. It feels too good to be true. So I sincerely apologize for my behavior— I am just very nervous and do not know what to do."
Alfred blushed, waving his hands, "No, no, it's okay! I understand. Truth be told, I feel the exact same way. Bumping into you was one of the greatest moments of my life, and I'm studying Astrophysics in frickin' Harvard," Alfred laughed, a sweet sound that nearly melted Ivan into his seat.
"What I'm getting at is," Alfred's demeanor turned shy once more, "I think you're pretty amazing too."
Ivan's face erupted in flames, but disbelief took over him first. "Really?" he asked incredulously, "You're not bothered by my voice or appearance? You don't find me unappealing or unpleasant?"
Alfred frowned. "Not at all. I've been admiring you from afar, too, you know. I love your deep, accented voice—it really boosts your attractiveness, even though you're already attractive. Hottest guy I've ever seen in person, like Superman but Russian. I love how studious and hardworking you are and the way you strike fear into people's hearts with a single glance!" Alfred said the last part with a pumped-up fist and a dazzling smile.
Ivan smiled, a mirthful grin that eventually broke out into a genuine laugh. Alfred paused to stare. "That's the first time anyone's spoken so fondly of me," Ivan admitted, his demeanor shifting to meekness. "Um, s-since we like each other, do you— um, want to—er..."
"Go on a date?" Alfred smiled warmly, "Sure, I'd love to."