Chapter Text
Daniel’s class ran from 7 to 9pm. Early in the evening, he would drag himself out of bed and take the bus to the CCSF campus, making his way to the large, bland building surrounded by caving concrete. His class of 23 weren’t the best group, but then again, they stayed mostly quiet so he didn’t judge them too harshly. Well, he did, but they didn't much care to listen to him. Daniel was most likely worse in school, anyways.
The young man who habitually sat as near to the front of the room as possible unnerved him. Each other student was typical, watching something on their phone while he was talking or very clearly playing video games on their computer, but this man just stared. His eyes were a dark, haunting shade, and his head would tilt just the slightest bit when he was amused. His hair was wavy, long, and black, running down near his waist. He often kept it in a low bun that dropped behind his head and became frazzled and distressed. His expression was commonly kept neutral, and Daniel waited for the moment that sweet, small smile would grace his face.
Whenever he turned to the screen to reference his slides, he imagined he could feel the boy’s eyes slicing through his neck. It was chilling, his enigmatic presence in the classroom. The boy’s work was even more cryptic. His words wound together like an ancient and newly uncovered basketry project. His esoteric musings fell upon Daniel in a manner most sensual. The eyes that followed him in the classroom became ever more uncanny when combined with the papers the boy turned in.
–
“And that’s why nobody will ever teach you anything of importance in this goddamn establishment.” Daniel finished, unplugging his computer from the bluetooth. The screen displayed on the wall went dark, and then returned to its natural gray.
The class sat, dead eyes nailed to the front of the room.
“And class is over, I’ve got nothing more to say to you. Have a tolerable night. Or don’t, what do I care.” He pushed his computer closed, the sound reverberating across the small room.
Students slowly gathered their things, rising languidly from their seats. Daniel left his things near the desk and went to prop the door open. The students sluggishly made their way through the door, past Daniel.
“Alright, bye Janiyah. Liam, Aakesh, good luck. See you next week. Yeah, thanks Ranjit. Bye Elena.” As the final students travelled into the halls, he turned to collect his things.
Daniel’s eyes dragged across the nearly empty classroom. There were two students in the back of the classroom, hovering over one of their computers and making muted comments to each other. Additionally, there was a young man only just beginning to rise from his seat in the front of the classroom. As he set his bag on the desk and began to fill it with his things, his eyes briefly glanced up towards Daniel, and Daniel’s heart went cold. He turned to continue onwards to his desk and retrieve his things, and as he was just beginning to leave, the young man’s form appeared in his line of vision. He started.
“Jesus, kid. You’re awful good at sneaking up on me like that.”
“Apologies, Professor Molloy. I did not mean to frighten you.” That was another thing about the kid, he spoke like an eerie minor nobility.
And his accent was almost indefinable to Daniel. He sounded undeniably English at times, but at others his voice carried a Latin tone, Italian, maybe? Or perhaps South Asian from the way he stressed his Ls and Rs. Often he thought the boy was French with the way he utilised his vocabulary, but he could never be sure.
“Nah, it’s cool. What’s up Armand?” Daniel set his bag down yet again, resting on his feet.
“Nothing, really, professor.” Armand said, turning his gaze to the dull floor.
He paused, mouth tightening briefly before he began to speak again.
“Goodbye, Professor Molloy. I’ll see you next week.” And with that, he walked briskly out of the classroom, not giving Daniel any time to respond.
Daniel sighed deeply, very pointedly not looking at Armand as he left the room. He once more checked on the students in the back of the room before confirming by the one closing their computer that they would both be leaving. Daniel was so very ready to get out of the building.
It was piercingly cold outside. Daniel clung to his woolen cardigan, willing himself to move forwards in the chill. He sat at the glowing orangeish red bus stop, a young woman bundled in a thin blanket sleeping on the bench next to him. He opened his bag, glancing at the unopened protein bar inside. It was old, sure, but protein bars don’t go bad, as far as Daniel wanted to believe. He pulled it out, quietly and covertly placing it near the sleeping woman’s head. He stepped back, blinking against the wind as his sight dwindled to the woman in front of him. Her frazzled, thin, wind-whipped hair stood out from the stained gray blanket. Her eyes were sunken deep, flesh pale and sickly around them. She was not only gaunt, but looked close to death. Hunger, or fent, or sickness, or anything. Daniel wanted to reach out and touch, grasp her hand and feel her bones beneath his palm. He turned his eyes towards the sordid pavement. A screeching, gasping sound broke into the brisk night air. The 29 dragged forward into the space in front of him. He glanced swiftly at the woman once more before hurrying onto the bus.
As he gathered himself onto the bus, his mind was poisoned with thoughts of Armand. What was that interaction? Armand didn’t often directly engage with Daniel, seeming to prefer to observe him. His tactical gaze almost seemed calmer than when he spoke. The ride back home was tense, his hands spasmed as he held onto the cold metal bar in the center of the bus. Thank god none of his students rode the same bus as him. There was a group of young people talking very loudly in Spanish at the far end of the bus. Their voices glowed with a joy and carelessness that Daniel could barely remember from his own collage days.
–
Being at home made no change to his demeanor. His cardigan draped over the back of his kitchen chair ominously, making monstrous shapes in the dark of his house. His computer sat open on the coffee table, the bright white being the only light omitted in the room. Daniel’s shaking fingers feebly pressing into the keys. The haunting quiet of his house permeated his rapidly descending mind, pushing up against the nooks and crannies of his thoughts. His thoughts, which were dreadfully full of Armand’s virtuous face.