"Alfred! Hey, Alfred!"

He turns out of curiosity. The setting sun blinds his vision for a sec, but soon the shapes form into a person. It's… what's-her-name…

"Elizaveta. Don't strain yourself, honey." She smiles, and tilts her head, indicating the scrawny-ass dude next to her. "This is Roderich!"

It takes him a minute. "…your boyfriend?" He asks.

Liz—he remembers that now—simply nods in response. Roderich sticks his hand out, weirdly, and he shakes. Didn't think people their age still did that… oh, well. Liz and Rod (man, he's good at nicknames!) are juniors: two years older than he is. Maybe that's why.

"So Alfred!" she pipes up, like a bird or something. There's just this weird quality to her voice, this little giddy undertone. He tries to ignore it. "I heard through the grapevine that you have—"

Rod cut her off with what Alfred supposed counted for a glare. He looked too fancy to really be threatening, though. "Elizaveta, is this really necessary? Need I remind you what happened last year?"

"Hush! Let me talk."

Alfred nodded, agreeing with her. Damn, he was curious. What did he have?

"Ahem! I heard you have an admirer?"

"…do I?" Did he?

Liz blinked. "Well," she qualified, "this is what I've heard. My sources are generally reliable, but of course there could be a mistake." She leaned on the balls of her feet, rocking a bit. "Hasn't he been following you around?"

"He?"

"Oh… my." She paused and looked at Rod, who shot her what Alfred unmistakably knew was an I-told-you-so look. He was better at that one. "No? Ivan?"

What? He… what? She's saying Ivan wasn't following him because he was an evil spy hell-bent on toppling the government, but because he liked Alfred?

That made no sense!

xxxxxxxxxx

It was way dark out now, almost around midnight, and Alfred hadn't been back to his room in hours. At first it was out of reluctance to cut T off, but there was no way in hell he was still going at it now, so… he kind of just didn't want to go back yet. Felt like if he stepped inside his dorm, he was acknowledging that he had classes again tomorrow.

Or something like that.

Besides, Alfred liked nights, liked the way the slight chill cut on his skin. Gave him time to think, too. About what Liz had said. Maybe she was just fucking with his head? But she seemed pretty genuinely interested…

What'd happened last year? What was up with that?

Wait, was he trusting the word of some girl who made out with him on a couch without mentioning her boyfriend? Was that smart? On the other hand, she seemed too pretty to be lying to him. He leaned sideways, letting himself fall onto the hard wood of the bench, then twisting to look up at the blueish-black sky. He couldn't find the moon.

He… knew it didn't bother him that someone might like him. Heck, he'd be flattered, he'd congratulate their good taste. And it's not like he cared that it was a dude, either; he never figured out how people made the distinction. He'd like anybody.

But following him to his dorm? Registering for his classes? Sneaking around and spying into a coffee shop? That was beyond fucked up. And he worried a little about anyone who was willing to do that.

He'd have to confront him about it…

xxxxxxxxxx

"Matt?"

"Whaaaat…"

"If there was somebody, like, following you around—"

"Please tell me this isn't hypothetical, you woke me up, do you even know what time it is…"

"…it's 12:30."

"Ughhh, exactly! What. What is it."

"Somebody following you around! And then someone else who you're, uh, not entirely sure you believe but you kind of want to because she's really pretty but her boyfriend is kind of stuck-up tells you that the person likes you and, uh. Yeah. What would you do?"

"…"

"Matt?"

"I'm going to hang up the phone."

"Matt!"

"I'm going to hang up, and you're going to call me tomorrow. At noon. Coherently."

"Hey, hey come on!"

"Good night, Alfred."

"Matt!"