#docs(res)

Regrettably, the film professor fails to keep himself from laughing. Crossed legs come undone and soon, he’s shifting in his seat, reaching up with a hand to peel his glasses away from his face. He isn’t quite sure if he feels like an oldie for being ask such an... innocent question, or as if he’s back to being a 19-year old who’s deeply in love--or, infatuated, rather, with a dancer in one of his classes. Either way, he catches himself feeling clueless after being asked, which is completely strange because he usually has an answer for everything. Perhaps the male meant something else, and not what he instantly thought about. Who even knows.  “Well. It depends on which context you would like to delve into. If we took it literally, instant death.”

“Strange? Yes. Perhaps. In a good way, more than anything.” The latter’s statement is something he truly agrees with, although only to a certain extent. Truth be told, each person, to him, is a stranger – even the ones in his life. In this moment, just in this very moment, his notes are deemed unimportant as his head begins to wrap itself around the words he’d just heard prior to his own. “We like to think we know every single thing about a person, once we get to know them. But do we really? Yes, we know a lot, but each of us is bound to reach that point of being a complete stranger to that one thing. Or person. Am I making sense, Moon-ssi?” A quirk of a brow and a pause before he goes back to writing down notes for tomorrow’s class.

“Well I certainly beg to differ.” His response came rather quick as there wasn’t really much to think about; if one were to ask about his preferences, being alone would be close to the very top. But of course, it has nothing to do with his distaste for a lot of things. At the age of nearly 30, he believes that time alone is an important element in one’s life. With this in mind, he lifted his gaze from his notes and eyed the stranger who’d just abruptly sat across from him at the diner, donning a small, reassuring smile. The person looked rather young -- perhaps he was a student. “Don’t worry. Can’t you see that I am enjoying the company of my paperwork?”

This response is quite delayed, however, I will still publish this as I think it would benefit those who are curious. If there are any. Well… this question is subjective. I have a specific favorite for each movement. For example, for surrealism, Paul Delvaux and Dalí. For post-impressionism, van Gogh, and impressionism, Monet. But I think if I had a personal favorite? It would be Gustav Klimt.

Me? ‘super hot’? I think you are mistaken. I like to believe I’m more..cold, than hot, especially during initial meetings. But if you meant ‘hot’ as in, my temperature, I’m okay. Just the right amount of warmth. Warm enough to be considered alive.

I feel honored, then, Sueji-ssi. Strawberry milk and innocence – aaah, definitely takes me back in time. Like myself, do you miss those days, too? Because I do, yes, most certainly. We rarely spoke back then, but we shared quite a lot of smiles and waves over the years. I wish we could’ve done more. Maybe we could meet again, for some strawberry milk? Coffee can wait, let’s be kids and reminisce!