VVhite Tongue [VVhite Coffee II (boyxboy)]

[3] Shards.

Noah hadn't been a direct witness to it, but he did see the ambulance pull into the University parking lot. Everyone did.

Only for it to return an hour later. Whereas everyone thought the lanky, withered young man had fainted from malnutrition, alcoholism or perhaps drugs (it was hard to tell whether he only looked like a cocaine addict or actually was one), it turned out he had 'narcolepsy', or so the rumor spread.

Noah had no idea what that meant, though he wasted no time in skipping his computer science course to go to the library and check it out. Out of nothing but mere curiosity.

And there he sat, cornered into a wall of books, Indian style on a comfy beanbag, book in lap and bag of chips on the coffee table nearby. Crumbles covered his still lips as he forgot to keep chewing.

Narcolepsy: the loss of the brain's ability to regulate sleep-wake cycles normally... sudden sleep attacks... insomnia... dream-like hallucinations... sleep paralysis... restlessness...

He wiped his hand off his jeans, swallowed the chips in his mouth and flipped the page.

Possible triggers: sudden change in sleep patterns... major psychological stress... inherited genetic fault...

His pale red eyes slid downwards, skipping several rows.

Eating disorders noted in the narcolepsy patients included:

Anorexia Nervosa: an intense fear of weight gain and a false image of body weight that causes the victim to live in a state of near starvation...

Noah blinked, not even bothering to read the rest since he was pretty sure anorexia was the case.

He closed the book with a soft thud and ran his thumbs over the corners, staring into distance. He stood up, grabbed his bag of chips and left just in time for the break bell to ring.

When he reached the center of the campus where everyone gathered during break to meet his friends, he spotted the object of his slightly creepy amount of research.

At least he wasn't the only one to stare. Him, his friends, as well as others in the nearby perimeter peeked at the man. A nasty bruise was spotting half of his face, circling an eye with a darker red than the other. He was standing up by the coffee shop, smoking and drinking coffee. Why was he standing up when there was an empty table just next to him?

His bloodshot eyes stared back at everyone, holding their gazes daringly. Those irises were a green of... shards? Yes, like a broken bottle dully glistening in a dark alleyway.

The shards cut at Noah in a short, brief glance, that passed as soon as it came. Just a tiny, careless stab right into his chest, right into his ego.

Careless...

He saw nothing of interest in Noah. Noah was nothing...

...One by one, people returned to their business, but not Noah's friends.

"His name is Davin. The psychology professor checked attendance today."

Noah's lips mouthed the name mutedly.

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The passing of time did nothing to Davin's case. He remained sort of a taboo, an occasional phenomenon. But it did plenty to Noah's case.

There he sat in the toilet booth, pooping, head held in hands, questioning his value. He's been doing that a lot recently. Not pooping, necessarily, but questioning his worth.

He just felt worthless. It was a nagging feeling. He wouldn't know it was how the average person felt: nothing out of the ordinary, just another brick in the wall... He'd always been that mat white brick, but now the scraped, tattered, moldy brick joined and became the big deal.

Such thoughts crossed his mind as he took his poop instead of appreciating the act itself. For, little did he know, it'd be the last healthy poop he'd be taking for years to come.

As he just finished wiping and flushing, three doors banged loudly. The bathroom door that led to the sinks room, the door that led to the toilets room, and the door of a booth.

Then, a couple coughs followed by a splash. That, in turn, followed by a faint groan. Not a pained one, but one of relief. Yes, it certainly sounded like relief.

Noah covered his mouth and nose. Poop and vomit were quite the impact on his senses.

He quickly exited and went for the sinks, washing his hands with jerky movements. As much as he wanted to leave, he was curious beyond manners.

When the door was slammed open, he looked into the mirror. It was like a couple seconds long nightmare: looking up to the mirror to see a tall, thin shadow creep closer, almost like a spider standing up human-like.

That'd be Davin for you.

The man wiped his mouth with a shaky hand, then leaned on the doorframe. He took out a tiny container and popped a pill, putting it in his mouth. He jerked his head back and gulped, Adam's apple bulging out like something trying to exit his throat.

He lowered his head, shadows reappearing under his eyes, nose, cheekbones, covering his neck, contouring the collar bones peeking out of his ridiculously huge t-shirt.

Noah forgot his hands under the boiling water. He hissed and pulled them away, holding them to his chest.

Since he was caught staring and all, he decided to go for it.

"Um... Are you okay?"

He shouldn't have asked that. Because that was the moment Davin grinned.

That grin was the beginning of it all.

<><><><><><>

He could almost see it now, years later, in the reflective black screen of the machinery. Peeking from behind the neon green numbers that told his weight.

Noah climbed off the scale. Turned around slowly, walked back to the armchair. Pulled his coat on, sat down, hands on knees.

Absent-mindedly, his hands brought the knees together. He observed how his thighs were touching.

"Here we are!" the woman cheered, entering the room with a grumpy, sniffling Morris on her way. "He just has a mild cold. I'll write a prescription. Makes sure he takes his meds this time! This is from that last cold he's had a few weeks prior. Interrupting the treatment results in reoccurrence of symptoms."

Noah stood up and held out Morris's coat. The man slowly sneaked his arms in the sleeves, then hid behind the tall collar.

With the prescription in his pocket, Noah walked out, Morris following less than a step behind.

"You're a grown man, can't you take your pills?"

Morris didn't reply. Noah looked back to see him glance at the ground with puffy eyes and red nose, still sniffling.

Noah sighed and stopped walking, turning around. Morris bumped into him, but caught Noah by the elbows. Noah snorted and hugged the man's torso tightly.

"Hey, now." Morris's voice was muffled by the collar. "It's just a cold. I'm fine."

Noah hugged him tighter.

I'm not.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Sooo, how do you feel about Davin?

I swear it creeps me out, writing about him. I get kind of cold. It's weird.