"Home! I want to go home!" he began shouting and waving his arms. If a second ago he did not seem drunk, now he could hardly stand on his feet.
How much did you have to drink to fall right into my arms?!
"Home! I want to go home!"
Filling the whole room with his loud voice, he put his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes. His legs didn't hold his weight at all and instead, he just hung on to me.
Attracting everyone's attention, he continued to scream until I wrapped my arms around his waist and threw his hand over my shoulder and dragged him towards the door.
I couldn't leave him.
"Skye do you know him?" was Ikuta's voice, but I didn't answer.
I stopped thinking.
"Professor Skyemoone!"
"I want to go home!"
"Skye, do you want me to ride you home?"
"No Ikuta, I'll just call a cab."
"Beware! It's dark!"
"Does he know him?"
"Probably a friend."
"A friend of Professor Skyemoone?! Most likely he is his..."
Stepping toward the door to people's voices and what they were guessing to find out who he was, I finally found myself under the sky dotted with millions of stars.
I stopped. The warm hand of this young man burned my ice palm, which furiously clasped him so that he did not fall.
Suddenly I felt like I had been hanging over the abyss all my life and now holding his hand, I was saved from something frightening.
I was afraid of this thought and I decided to move on. But the young man did not want to go at all. He just hung on to me and muttered something.
I looked around. There was no one there. To catch a taxi, I would have to go many more streets ahead, it was easier just to ask him, "Where do you live? Tell me your address."
And then, he passed out and fell on the grass.
I touched his face, but he was already fast asleep clutching my hand.
I grabbed him by both hands and bent down, literally dragged him to my back.
To my surprise he was very light.
Carrying him on my back, I could hear him breathing which was burning my left ear.
His hair tickled my face and neck.
There was still a whole alley ahead. The cool wind and rustling of autumn leaves sang the lullaby and listening to my own footsteps, I began to feel like I was about to fall asleep.
There was another street ahead and at the very end of the road, my house was.
As I walked, at times I could feel his look. I thought he wasn't sleeping at all, and when I turned my head to look, my face was so close to him that I felt uncomfortable and I thought he was definitely asleep.
Finally, when I got home, I breathed a sigh of relief and caught the eye of my neighbor. She looked at me suspiciously and when I waved to her she quickly entered the house.
Once in the house, I did not take off my shoes and went into my living room and carefully put him on the sofa.
The Dreamer began to sniff him in surprise.
For a while I stood over him and studied his face.
Whether he actually slept, I did not know. But his thin face, with graceful outlines of his nose and eyebrows, made me stand in one place without moving.
It was only now that I realized and confessed that I was looking for him everywhere. And now, seeing him in front of me, I realized that from birth, I was looking for him. And the reason for this was perhaps the desire to connect with fate and become a part of this world.
When I wanted to turn away and go to the kitchen, I suddenly felt his hand squeezing my palm.
"I found you," he muttered.
I thought he was drunk and still didn't know where he was, but when I looked at his face, I realized he wasn't drunk at all. His dark green eyes, keeping in themselves the brilliance of the whole universe stared at me. And he didn't look like he'd just woke up.
"I finally found you," he repeated, and this time he rose to his elbows and looked around. "I want to drink, " he said combing his naughty strands of hair back.
"Wait here," I said, and headed toward the kitchen, but he followed me.
I heard his feet treading on the carpet, he wasn't drunk, there was no argument. But does that mean he was faking it?
All of a sudden I had a thought that he might be a murderer. But this thought drove itself as soon as I handed him a glass of warm water and he drank it in a volley.
I watched his sharp hair shudder from every sip. When he had finished drinking, he put the glass on the table and scanned me again with his mysterious look.
That's when I realized that for some reason I was speechless.
He then took off his jacket and casually threw it on a chair.
Leaning with one hand on the table, he with his other hand took out the pen from his pocket and said, "You lost it."
"It's yours," I said, and added, "Wait for me."
A second later, I went back to him with that folder. "You left it that day when it rained."
He reluctantly took his folder and again casually threw it on the table.
Having combed his hair back, he sighed heavily and sat down sharply on a chair.
"Did you want to leave with that woman?"
"Have you been watching me all evening?"
"Are you angry?"
"No."
"So what's your answer?"
"I wasn't going anywhere with her. Do you care?" I asked, and the thought that he might be a maniac visited me again, especially as he looked toward the knives.
Watching the Dreamer drink milk, he suddenly said, "I want milk."
I did as he asked, I poured milk into iron mug and started heating it up. While I was standing at the gas stove, he came up to me.
Yes, we were the same height.
At close range, I was more convinced that his hair was too golden. And his appearance was as if it were artificial.
I couldn't understand either his age or nationality. But what mattered more to me was who he was and what his name was, and then I asked, "What's your name?"
"You should guess," he said, biting off the apple, while looking at me as if he were ready to laugh.
And the first thing that came to my mind was, "Leo."
"Why do you think so?"
"You look like a lion."
"The dangerous one?"
I was more interested in this man like in no one before. I knew he wanted to play, that he wanted to scare me, but I was ready for the unexpected.
"I don't think so," I replied pouring milk into the cup.
He snatched the cup out of my hand and took a few sips of milk.
We were standing pretty close, but none of us were in a hurry to move away from each other.
"I'm Leon. You were almost right at your guess."
I wanted to introduce myself, but he got ahead of me, "I know who You are. I've been studying you for a long time."
"Have you read my books?"
He ignored my question and asked, "Why did you choose Philosophy?"
I wanted to open my soul to him, I wanted him to know everything. And I said, "Because I loved to think like no other. And I decided I wanted to make a living by what I thought."
He shook his head and sat down on a chair. Looking at an empty chair in front of me, he made me realize that I needed to sit down too.
For a while, we just looked at each other. His dark green eyes fascinated. I was lost in them.
He warmed his hands against the cup, not looking at me, with sadness on his face, he asked, "Do you believe in destiny?"
To which I replied, "Destiny is a haven for those who are lost."
"How poetic," he said, stroking Dreamer who jumped on the table and began to sniff his hands.
I didn't know what to say next. That's when I started to panic.
"Professor Skyemoone, you must have a lot of questions for me," he said and propped his face with his hand.
I've never noticed beauty in people before, even if I noticed it, I immediately forgot. But looking at him, I was suffocating. An artist woke up in me and I had time to regret a thousand times that I can not paint portraits.
But what is the beauty when it comes to this young man named Leon? All standards of beauty break next to him.
"I always have a lot of questions. But I'm a philosopher, I'm used to them. I'm in no hurry to find out all at once."
After finishing the milk, a pink blush appeared on his cheeks.
"You know that I was pretending to be drunk today?"
"I know."
"Do you know why?"
"I have no idea."
He smiled a little and got up from the table. Without looking at me, standing with his back to me, he suddenly asked, "Can I stay here tonight?"
"Yes."