As astute as he seems, he immediately lays his eyes on my wrinkled blouse I grip in my wet hands, "Are you fine?" in a concerned tone he questions, "Is there something wrong with your uniform?"
After taking a gulp, I shake my head softly, "N-no…"
Finding me acting suspicious from stammering, he decides to size me up with his glare. He avers, "You don't look good."
While he lets his eyes linger on my body, he further approaches me. Even when we are almost colliding, he does not stop, obliquely forcing me to step backwards. Until suddenly I feel my heel hitting the tiled-wall, and my back sticking to it.
Calmly he bends his waist as he leans nearer to me. When our noses almost touch each other, he whispers in a soft voice, "Is it your body, then?"
Before I can answer him, I feel his long fingers cuffing around my wrists. Together with my blouse, he lifts my hands slightly upwards, leaving my abdomen unveiled.
Tardily, he bends his knees and squat down in front of me. When he finds my trousers are unbuttoned, he undoes the zipper. By the ring of my underpants, he gently pulls it downwards…
"O-Oliver…"
In tense I purse my lips and shut my eyes. At where I stand I stone. I keep my breath held, not daring to make a little move… What is happening? Why did he unzip my trousers? What is he about to do to me? Is he trying to…
"This looks bad." just by a genuine sentence, his voice draws me out of the unutterable thoughts that filled my head. He widens his eyes while he raises his head and looks up at my face, "Did you knock off a boiling kettle?"
"W-what…?"
Cautiously he glides his fingers down my lower abdomen, "Your skin looks burnt and swollen…" concerned he questions, "How long has it been like this? You must feel so uncomfortable, poor thing…"
By the moment I realise, I have been frowning my brows and biting my lip when I look at Oliver's face. It must be his sensational touch that puts me in tension… To be honest, I have been feeling an affection for him since the day I first met him in the library a month ago.
Next to my table, he bent down only in order to pick up an eraser I dropped. He raised his head again and looked at me as he put the eraser into my hand.
When I saw his emerald green eyes, my breath was taken away… He has been in my thoughts since.
And now just by a touch, he can cast all the pain in me away. At this moment, I feel like he can ease all the malaise of mine… Though, intellect keeps the smile away from my face.
Oliver won't possibly be fond of a boy like me. He is a fine gentleman with an illustrious background and a bright future, how will he ever let my existence in mind?
Furthermore, everyone is aware of the fact that he has a childhood sweetheart, Layla-May Magana. They pursue the same programme, they appear in every occasion together, they are inseparable.
Layla-May Magana, the campus queen, the most glamorous girl among all. If one day she becomes unqualified to stand next to Oliver, nobody will ever deserve that place, including me.
After all, Oliver does not know who I am, he does not even know my name. I am fully convinced that he does not hold the intention for the relation between us to be further developed.
However, at the same time, I hope to prevent the impression I left from aggravating him because I crossed a line that I should not. Therefore quickly, I pull up my trousers and let down my blouse, "It is nothing." I say as I redo my attire, "I will get some ice packs later."
Whereas, Oliver seems to have a different perspective from mine, "Or you can get some medication." after he stands up, he remains in his position in front of me, "At what time does your last module today end?" he asked.
If I am not mistaken, it should be, "Late afternoon at four…"
As soon as he fetches my answer, the suspension he kept himself on settles, "Great." he winks at me, "Everybody knows I am the heir of St Camillus Hospital, I think you do too. Meet me at the gate by then, I need to make sure you're taking care of yourself with the right medication."
Hearing those considerate words coming from him, warmth spreads across my face from the middle. Obediently I nod, "Thank you, Oliver…"
Just by the moment his name escapes my lips, I realise it might be impolite for me to address him by his name. Yet, instead of redressing my sentence, I decided to make a request, "May I call you Oliver…?"
As Oliver hears me, he first widens his eyes in surprise. Then, "Of course." he said, putting up a beaming smile on his face.
As I thought, he is able to ease all the malaise in me. There is a reason for one to be so popular among lecturers and students, isn't there?
A boy like him, high-born, yet benevolent, solicitous, and affectionate… How much more envious could I feel against that person who he shares his life with?
☩·······☩·······☩·······☩·······☩·······☩·······☩
During lunch hour, some students flood the cafeteria to get their stomachs filled before their next class starts;
Some scatter across the public area having a discussion over their assignments with their group members;
Some linger around the campus both indoor and outdoor, hanging out with their fellow club members, enjoying their activities, indulging in their best moment of youth.
The scenery during a recess break never seems so excessively mirthful to me, even to an extent that it actually irks me a little.
In listless footsteps I walk down the hallway, avoiding coming in contact with the crowds, only to avoid the temperature of my lower abdomen from rising again. It just got better after I rinsed my skin with cold water.
My mood and appetite to enjoy a meal are wholly affected after all, hence instead of the cafeteria, I decide to head to a place where I can be left alone… And I definitely have the right place in mind.
University of Dunne Sleibhe is the most lavish educational institution in the country——Why not explore? I thought to myself during the first day of orientation of my programme.
I explored the education building where the classrooms, lecture halls, and studios for all schools are located;
I explored the administration building where the office of the chancellor, lecturers, student ccouncil, and other curriculum authorities are located;
A bridge across the administration building, I explored the most solemn building on campus, the library, a place where students, lecturers, and professors immerse themselves in the vast sea of knowledge;
Another bridge across the library building, I explored the facility building, where the cafeteria is located on the ground floor, and where the students categorised themselves into divisions, gathered with their club and society members during recess breaks and after classes, engaging in the seminars and social activities.
I lingered in the building, I found the gymnasium and swimming pool for the athletes, the skittles room of the chess club, music room for the bands, atelier for the artists, hall for the cultural performers, the auditorium for orchestra performers, the theatre for the theatrical troupe…
And there, at the deepest corner of the top floor was where I barged into an empty storage room and found a hideout spot all to myself.
When I first stepped into it, every corner of the storage room was occupied, every surface was covered in inches of layers of dust. It was dark and desolate, until when I lifted the heavy drape before the windows, dust and dirt puffed like dandelions and filled the air.
Meanwhile, the bright sunlight that penetrated across the tall arch windows showered into the room and revealed the rustic brick walls, oak timber floorings, and plenty of old racks that were covered in coverlets hidden in the deepest corners.
After I carefully removed the coverlets, piles of gramophone records and a record player unveiled into my sight. Driven by curiosity, I switched the record player on and played a record. Ever since, I became an enthusiastic audiophile.
From that day on, I showed up in that room every once in a while cleaning and tidying up. I sorted all the antiques, cleaned the old couch I dragged out from the corner, replaced the heavy drapes with high light density voiles, rearranged the old racks…
I even filled the racks with more records I bought with my pocket money from the thrift shops. They were mostly essentials.
After weeks of hard work, the dark, desolated storage room turned into a bright, cosy sanctuary.
With the student curriculum authority, I managed to register this room under a new club named the Audiophiles. Yet as ironic as it sounds, I have been the only audiophile in the club since then, because I wanted to keep the space all to myself, especially for a time like this.
However, just as I am proceeding towards the bridge from the administration building, I feel an abrupt force pulling me from the back…