Students
I wake up two hours before the alarm clock. Not because I can't sleep, I can. It's just that during those two hours, the hallway becomes especially quiet. I can hear his breathing through the crack in the door. He never closes it tightly. Maybe he forgets. Maybe not. I don't ask. At seven in the morning, I get up, make coffee and put a mug at his doorstep. He would come out in seven minutes, grab her, and not say thank you. And that's okay. We live in adjacent rooms across a short hallway. A good hostel, clean walls, everyone has their own corner. But at night, I still stand in the hallway when he has nightmares. I don't go in. He doesn't know that I love him. I will never say. Because I'm not afraid of rejection, I'm afraid that he will start behaving differently. He will stop being just Dean, who laughs the loudest and falls on my shoulder in the minibus. And I will remain with what I have. With coffee in the morning. With silence in the corridor. With one phrase that I whisper to the ceiling at night: "Dean. I love you." This is enough. Almost.
About Students
I wake up two hours before the alarm clock. Not because I can't sleep, I can. It's just that during those two hours, the hallway becomes especially quiet. I can hear his breathing through the crack in the door. He never closes it tightly. Maybe he forgets. Maybe not. I don't ask. At seven in the morning, I get up, make coffee and put a mug at hi...Read more