In premeditated thought, you have predicted the course of John's emotions over the course of the month, and assigned each of the six five-day periods a stage. Currently, it is April 2nd, and Day Two of the first stage, Confusion. You wonder if you calculated correctly. You spent quite a long time fussing over this process, because it has transformed into not only a courtship, but a scientific study. Perhaps you will publish your results.
Mounting the front steps for the second day in a row, you lean forward slightly as you press your finger into the little circular button. You hear a surprised shout from inside the house, and chuckle. You'd made bets with Bro that he wouldn't have suspected you to return. When you get back to the apartment, Bro owes you five bucks.
The door opens cautiously, and John peeks out at you from behind the doorframe. "Hi, Dave," he says carefully, and you hand him the box of homemade gourmet chocolates that you labored over for hours yesterday afternoon.
"John Egbert, I love you."
He pauses, looking at the box curiously. "I'm still not a homosexual," he mutters after a moment.
"I know." John just stands stock-still, one arm remaining behind the door and resting on the knob inside of the house, and the other hanging loosely at his side. "Just take the box already," you groan after a sufficiently awkward pause. At your prompt, he reaches forward with his unoccupied hand and plucks it from your fingers as if handling an explosive.
"Thanks…I guess," he says, barely meeting your gaze, and closes the door quickly in your face. You hear a light thump inside of the house as he drops the box on the sofa, and then heavy footfalls as he dashes up the stairs. "Daaaaaad!" he calls adorably as you turn away and start back down the steps. "Dave keeps giving me things and I don't know what to dooooo!" You chuckle. All these years, you never bothered to let him know that his door wasn't soundproof.