Chapter Text
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Flins hops on the train, energy drink in one hand and his phone in the other. He anxiously scrolls through the same email over and over again, double and triple checking his name on the screen. With every refresh, the results are all the same: Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins, University of Nod Krai. Flins had, ever since freshman year, always known his dream university would be Nod Krai. With its pathways and courses for Flins’ medical dreams, Flins was fairly excited to have been actually accepted considering their low acceptance rates.
Being raised practically his whole life in Nod Krai, he took the subways with ease to where the school was. Slowly sipping his caffeine fix as he drags his luggage behind him, his mind wanders to all the possibilities there. Flins was always seen a bit differently from people, the majority of it coming from his looks. His indigo ombre hair, which he dyed himself, was definitely the main cause of the strange looks. It wasn’t even dyed as streaks either– his hair was fully dyed in that bold indigo color, having it ombre out to white on the ends. Another prime reason was definitely his face; pale skin, sunken eyes, severe eyebags, and eyeliner were definitely bound to give him strange looks. Not that these glares bothered him, however. Sure, he’d been labeled as “emo” or “gothic”, but he believes that it’s because the region where he was raised in had very strict manners.
Maybe that was another reason why he was so glad to be accepted– that sense of leaving his not so great home and being accepted into a new beginning. He had always replied to people respectfully and calmly, never losing his politeness in things; of course that didn’t mean he still felt annoyance or anger. He had never let those people bring him down, at least not showing it upfront, and he sure won’t let that stop him now, not when he’s already here. He takes another sip of his drink, savoring the bitter taste of the pure black coldbrew– BUMP
Flins stumbles back, coffee spilt but thankfully on the concrete. He sighs in a faint annoyance but calmly looks up to see the person who bumped into him. A blonde with the hair length of a wolfcut picks up the empty coffee cup on the ground.
“Sorry–” they both say at the same time.
Awkwardly, the blonde shifts and throws the cup away in the nearby trashcan. With a closer look, Flins observingly notices the blonde man having many jewelry on: two gold necklaces from whatever designer brand its from, bracelets, and those rings with small embroidered words on them that Flins can’t make out. The compressed grey t-shirt and shorts (Flins can’t deny that this man did have an insane build), paired with his duffle bag and a suitcase is enough for Flins to make the conclusion that this man is probably just some gym rat who didn’t look where he was going. So, not wanting to say sorry again or adding to the conversation in general, he walks past the man. It’s not like he’ll ponder on this moment; everybody bumps into somebody else at least once or twice in their lifetimes. It’s clearly nothing to worry about–
Why was that gym rat bimbo following him?
Flins didn’t want to seem obvious by looking back every three seconds, but he looked back once again and lo-and-behold, that man was walking in the same direction as him. Being logical, Flins comes to the conclusion that maybe this guy was just… heading to a gym that so happens to be nearby where he’s going. Or he could just be heading home–there were a lot of apartments and houses near Nod Krai University anyway. He could feel in the air, however, that the blonde was probably realizing he’s going the same way as the man whom he bumped into. There was undeniably a small hint of tension and awkwardness in the air, but the two men try not to ponder upon it. It was just a coincidence, nothing more.
Flins’ jaw drops as his eyes meet with the man who’s at his dormitory door. You’re kidding, right? he thinks silently to himself, seeing the same man who he literally bumped into and walked in the same direction with. Flins double checks his phone and key– they match up with the room number and everything. There’s no way, Flins thinks, that I have a fucking jock as my roommate.
“Hello again.” Flins says calmly, not letting his inner turmoil show.
“Uh, hi…again.” the other man says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You’re also room 102B?”
“Uh-huh.”
Flins nods, exhaling a heavy sigh. He turns the key, gesturing for the blonde to enter first. As he shuts the door, he takes a look around the dorm; basic furnishing that was simple yet aesthetically pleasing. The floorboards were a mahogany color and the walls were a nice color of beige. The leather couch, the polished wooden table, marble countertops… Flins thinks to himself that he could get used to this environment. Of course, he’d probably replace some of the furniture and decorations to his likings but–
The other man plops his duffle bag on the ground, making a loud thud that was definitely not a normal sound a bag should make. Flins pinches the bridge of his nose, remembering he’s technically also sharing a dormitory with some random guy; he’ll just have to hope that this guy likes monochrome aesthetics and plants. He decides he’ll just leave the other be, not wanting to strike up an actual conversation just yet.
As he unpacks all his books, clothes, trinkets, etc., in his room, he can’t help but feel a sense of pridefulness. Here he is, organizing his shelves with novels and memories of photos and trinkets. Flins wouldn’t consider himself an expert at decorating but even he feels proud of himself for rearranging so well. He finishes the final touches of hanging photos of Ineffa and Aino (Flins hates to admit it but they’re his only friends) on his corkboard. With a huff, he decides to probably hang up his clothes later. Right now, he wanted to at least get to know a bit about his new roomie. He figures that if was going to spend the rest of his college days with this random jock, he might as well get to know him a bit better.
Flins knocks on the other room door (basic etiquette he does by muscle memory) and he hears the man on the other side of the door shifting and shuffling. “One minute!” he says; Flins just waits outside the door, fidgeting with his thumbs and thinking how bad of an idea this was. His head snaps back up when he hears the door unclick and his roommate opens the door. He could tell that the shifting was probably the man getting changed, as he was now in sweats and a loose zip up jacket.
“Yo!” the man says with a smile. He seemed much more confident and less awkward than before, Flins notes.
“Hey,” Flins replies back, “so you’re my roommate from now on I assume?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” the blonde says, looking at Flins like he’s observing how he looks.
“I’m Kyryll Chudormirovich Flins, Flins for short.” Flins holds out his hand, not sure why he decided to introduce himself just now. There was a long pause from the other man, clearly trying to process that long name. Flins clears his throat, adding, “I’m studying in the medical field. You?”
“Varka; I’m going for a business major.” Varka says flatly, shaking Flins’ hand in return (Flins notices Varka’s hand is quite calloused and rough). “That’s one heck of a name, Flins.”
Flins shifts around, shrugging casually. He tries to continue the conversation, his mouth spewing, “You workout a lot?” Flins mentally hand palms himself, thinking this was a rather stupid way of trying to strike a conversation. “I saw your duffle bag and the clothes are a dead giveaway.” He adds in defense so he wouldn’t appear strange or stalker-like.
Varka chuckles heartedly, nodding to the question. “I do, yeah. Usually I go at least twice a week, but knowing these classes I’ll be way busy.”
Flins nods, taking note of this new information. “You must be quite experienced then? You look like you’ve been working out for a while.” Flins was cringing to himself at how amazingly awkward this was.
Varka chuckles sheepishly. “Would it surprise you that I'm only 24?”
Flins practically almost chokes on his spit. There was no way this muscular blonde man was a year younger than him. Clearing his throat, Flins says, “You’re younger than me by a year then.”
Varka raises his brow. “Seriously? I would at least think you were 22 or 23 max with your appearance.” Varka gestures to Flins’ baggy clothes and looks.
“I’m quite flattered you think that about my age.”
“That hair you have is impressive by the way.” Varka adds with a sincere look. “The long and dyed hair combo is sick.”
Flins wasn’t quite used to flattery or compliments nor did he really know how to receive them. He nods with a small smile and mumbles, “Much thanks; I’m always so used to people calling it weird or unfitting.”
“You serious? It’s, like, the coolest thing ever dude.”
How the uncomfortable conversation about dyed hair led to an hour and a half talk about their lives, they both knew not. However, they both couldn’t deny that they now had a somewhat natural flow between them, despite their awkward beginning. The conversation ended with them on the leather couch, both of them receiving information about their classes and lecture schedules. With an exchange of “cya later”, the two retreat to their own separate rooms. Flins could see a slight smile on Varka which, curse everything above, made him crack a small grin as well. With Flins closing his door and writing down his schedule for tomorrow in his planner, he can’t deny the fact that maybe his new roommate isn’t just a stupid jock after all.
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