Staring. It has become a recent thing of my own, staring at maths equations with no teacher to help you? Amazing. I wanted to cry, like I felt the tears drop from my eyes

He was watching a boxing match whilst I sat at the Island struggling with my life, he drinks some of his beer and I stand up from the chair and walk towards him whilst holding my maths book, I tuck in my pen behind my ear. Once I reach the end of the sofa where his head rested, I bend over him.

He looks up and ignores me.

"Please." I whisper. "Please Alexander, I am begging you!" He is about to reach for his beer, but I snatch it just in time so he could give me the attention. I walk to his side and settle down onto my knees as I rest my book onto his stomach.

"One question and you better make it good," shock slammed me in the face.

He actually accepted. I stand up and sit down on his legs since he was taking up the whole thing, I flick to the hardest question in the book and hand it to him. He takes it from my grasp and looks down at the question.

He analyses it for a quick minute. "The final answer is, seven."

"Are you looking at the right question?" I whisper in shock; he picks up his beer from the floor and glances at the television.

"Little's law can be applied to any part of the store, such as a particular department or the checkout lines. The store owner determines that, during business hours, approximately eighty-four shoppers per hour make a purchase and each of these shoppers spend an average of 5 minutes in the checkout line. At any time during business hours, about how many shoppers, on average, are waiting in the checkout line to make a purchase at the Good Deals Store?"

How is he saying this so causally?

"You are looking at the right question, and you-you figured it out in three minutes."

He removes me from his legs and sits up, he sat down with his legs spread out and held the book with one hand. He leans closer to me; I look down at him since I sat on my feet- which gave me an extra boost.

He takes the pen from behind my ears and begins writing on the book.

"Since the question states that Little's law can be applied to any single part of the store, then the average number of shoppers, N, in the checkout line at any time is N=rat, where r is the number of shoppers entering the checkout line per minute and T is the average number of minutes each shopper spends in the checkout line."

"Since eighty-four shoppers per hour make a purchase, eighty-four shoppers per hour enter the checkout line. However, this needs to be converted to the number of shoppers per minute in order to be used with T=5. Since there are 60 minutes in one hour, the rate is eighty-four shoppers per hour divided by 60minutes which then equals 1.4 shoppers per minute. Using the given formula with r=1.4 and T=5 yields. N=rt= (1.4) (5) =7. Therefore, the average number of shoppers, N, in the checkout line at any time during business hours is seven. The final answer is seven."

Why was I attracted to this? This man was Albert Einstein himself. The way he says it as if it was adding two apples with one. My mouth, my mouth dropped open. He hands me back the book and turns up the volume of the television.

He was a math genius, "I-I.."

"Leave me alone now." I grabbed the remote and switched the tele off, his jaw tenses and he glances at me. "I said leave me alone, not switch of the fucking tv."

"How are you so good at maths?" I question him, "I have been revising maths for fifteen years and in no way, you know-"

"Give me the remote Nadia," I stand away from him and hold the remote up high, he raises a brow.

I fight back, he stands up, and I think I forgot how tall he is in comparison to me. He walks towards me, and I take a step back with each step he takes forward, until my back collides with the wall.

Alexander towers over me and grabs the wrist holding the remote, pinning it to the wall.

I did not think this through.

I slowly look up, his eyes lock with my own.

"Pochemu ty vsegda dolzhen menya razdrazhat'?"

[Why do you always have to annoy me for?]

He whispers into my ear, his jaw touching my own. His teeth scratches the tip of my ears, my stomach leans in forward and touches his lower abdomen.

I feel his lips drag down the nape of my neck, his wet lips trail down and he leaves soft kisses onto my skin. "Alexander..." I whisper, neck kissing is my weak spot. I already feel my legs wanting to buckle beneath him. I feel him bite onto my skin; I gasp opening my eyes to see the side of his head.

He slowly comes back up, and kisses along my jaw.

I close my eyes tightly, please kiss me. Please kiss me. Please kiss me! His lips land on the edge of my lips, and my hands loosen the remote and before it drops onto the floor.

He catches it with his hand and steps back and settles on the couch as if nothing just happened. I graze the edge of my lips and blush crimson red, and just stare at him.

◾◾◾

I am supposed to be sleeping on the couch, but I felt so lonely, he is in his room right now. My hands push open his door, and I see him with a book in his hands and on his bed half naked.

He looks up and ignores my presence, I close the door behind me and walk towards the empty side of the bed. "What are you doing?" I slide under the cover and move closer to him, resting my head against his shoulders.

"One fact about me?"

"I don't remember asking." He mumbles, continuing to read his book.

"I hate flying. I love airports, lounges and that, but the act of flying makes me sick. I do not like heights and any turbulence makes me think the plane is about to crash. I am not a good flier. Typical seeming that I want to travel the world after I graduate." I chuckle.

He continues to read the book.

"Oh, I used to be a vegetarian. After reading Fast Food Nation, I decided to give up meat and was a vegetarian for four years." I paused for a moment. "Then I gave it up when McDonalds made a new menu..." I see him trying to force down a small smile, I smile myself when I notice-maybe I am actually breaking down his walls.

"Oh! I am a huge fan of soul, Motown, blues, and jazz. It's way better than any of the pop music out there." I get off his shoulders and lean back onto the mattress with my feet kicked up on the headboard. I hum as I think of more facts about myself.

"If I could ever pick what time period I could live in, it would be the 1920s. I think that would be an exciting time to live in. But maybe I've just read The Great Gatsby too much."

I chuckles to myself, sliding my foot near his head.

"Speaking of Gatsby, I learned to swing dance so I could throw myself a Gatsby-themed birthday party. I did it for three years in a row. Can I show you?"

"No." He responds, my foot slips and accidentally hits him.

I gasp and sit up, slowly sliding backwards.

He drops the book on his lap and stares at me, he grabs my ankle before I could run and pulls me back to him. "I'm sorry!" He puts the book to the side and towers over my body, I lean on my elbows as his face hovers over mine. His body was huge compared to me, twice the size of me.

"Alex."

"Don't call me that, my name is Alexander." His voice was dark, "say it. Say my name." Nothing would come out my throat, my stomach is burning from this temptation.

"Ili ya dolzhen zastavit' tebya krichat' vmesto etogo?"

[Or should I make you scream it, instead?]