Math Geek
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Category: sensual, romantic, two idiots
Synopsis/ Minho is a math-science student who really tries to convince you that mathematics is the most important subject. You, on the other hand, are studying poetry and languages. The competition goes high....
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You sat leaning against a wall, while reading your book: 1984, George Orwell. The by-passing people didn't make you look up from your book. You were turning the pages rather fast since the puzzle pieces finally got to eachother.
"Hmmm, 1984? You should try reading Newton's Principia."
You immediately recognized his voice....Minho....
"I am not interested in reading Newton's Principia." You kept concentrating on your book.
He came and sat next to you. "What is this book about anyway?"
"You don't know George Orwell?""
"You don't know Gottfried Leibniz?"
You sighed, "My apologies that I don't know Goth-Fried-Lieben-Nicht."
"It's Gottfr-"
"It was a joke, Minho, you should try to make one, oops, you already did." You looked him up and down. "The outfit is atrocious."
You stood up and cleaned off your pants.
"I don't get why you are so focused on languages anyway."
"Hmmm? Is that the joke you came up with, or are you actually stupid?"
He narrowed his eyes. "You aren't forcing your brain to think logically."
"Well, I don't have to force my brain to think logically."
"You don't get it, don't you? The purpose of all these natural laws?"
"Why do you have to argue with me every single day?"
"Because i like it." "I am not arguing with you."
"Okay great."
"Great."
"Fine."
"Fine."
You turned around and mid-step
"We are going to get lunch together, right?" you said over your shoulder.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." his mouth curved into a slight smile.
"Good."
Will he play loose?
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Minho was standing outside your classroom, leaning against the wall. He could slightly look into the room, written on the chalkboard:
""For sale: baby shoes, never worn.""
His eyebrows furrowed, not understanding what the big deal was about that one sentence. He was trying to think like you, but the only logical solution for him was that the shoe's structure was too small for the little feet and had to be sold for approximately 5 dollars.
"Hmmm?" you followed his gaze, "ahhh, finally invested?"
"Hmmm, too bad her feet were too small."
"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows.
"The feet from the child....the shoes were never worn."
"Interesting interpretation."
"Aren't you going to tell me the definite answer?"
"There is no definite answer in poetry."
He stood still and pinched his nose
"So you are telling me, you and your classmates are just summing up every possible answer without coming to a conclusion?"
"Well, everybody has a different perspective; you cannot force an opinion on someone."
"I see."
He secretly glanced at you. Observing your face and how untouched you can stay while his mind is running in endless circles about certain math equations.
"Well lets go grab a bite, shall we?"
"Yeah....we shall...."
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You both were sharing a fried rice chicken plate, which was very big. While he was eating, his eyes kept digging into yours. Your brain was a mystery to him for a certain reason.
He took out his math book and started looking for a problem to solve.
"Could you help me....solve this....?" he asked with a slight smirk
He pushed his paper towards you:
You have 100kg of potatoes, which are 99% water. You leave them outside until they dry out slightly and are now 98% water.
What is their new total weight?
"Hmmm....50 kg ain't it?" you said with your mouth full
"What?"
"50 kg."
"How come?" he said quit skeptical
"If the potatoes become 98% water... isn't 2% than 1kg? Yeah, and then if 1 kg is represented by 2%, then 100% is 50kg."
"I see," he closed his book slowly.
"Can i give you now one to solve?"
"What you gonna give me," he laughed "a poem?"
"Here."
The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black bough.
His eyes raked over the page, observing every letter, every construction he could make up. He kept staying there with his head bowed.
"Well?"
"Don't....I....trying focus...."
"Take your time."
"You know what?" he said angrily, "I don't have time for your little puzzles."
"Well it would mean a lot to-"
"Fine."
His fingers had a tight grip on his pencil, and his arm tightened up.
"You want a dictionary?"
He simply nodded. His concentration fascinated you. If you had to visualise it, it looked like a rubiks cube being solved. Slowly....but there was progress in it.
"Hmmm....let me try to sum it up...." he began, "in my "opinion" ofcourse....in the crowded subway....you see people right...."
"Yes...."
"And your eyes cross eachothers path....or at least see eachother...."
The air started to bend, making this moment more fragile than ever before.
"....than they vanish forever....like a ghost, an unpermanent mark...."
He kept looking through you, just like he was a ghost going through your soul, fidgeting with it, and taking it with him.
In his mind, he would never want you to vanish from his sight. He wouldn't admit it, but this poem brought up a fear of his.
Eyes crossing but never being able....
to look....
in your pretty eyes....
"Well," you cleared your throat.
"Well....I think...."
"You think...."
"....that you need to get going to your math lessons....?
"Oh yeah....I forgot."
You raised an eyebrow with astonishment. "You never forget"
"Well, who are you to make pre-judgments?"
"I am not, I just always noticed how fixated you are on perfecting your schedule."
"Well, you don't know everything that is going through my mind."
He looked at one of your eyes....then the other one....like a game, just ping....pong....ping....pong
His eyes glinted, and you noticed how they slightly went softer.
"You know what they say Minho?"
"Hmmm?"
"The eyes are the windows of the soul."
"Hmmm?"
"Think about it."
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And the games began....
One afternoon, you were again sitting in the library, as usual. It was one of those locations you could fully wander around in your head.
You saw from the corner of your eye Minho sitting, books spread out on the table, he has at least two calculators with him.
You stood up and patted him on his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" you whispered
"Trigonometry." he looked at you.
"Could I join you?"
"And you mean by that....?"
"Sitting here and... reading my book."
He patted the chair next to him.
"Sit down."
While you were reading your book, this time The Idiot from Dostoevsky, he was trying to do something. He tried to come up with something smooth....maybe to....seduce you in a kind of way.
He couldn't help it, but for the last few months, your witty sense has been infuriating him.
"You know...." he began
"Hmmm?"
This is stupid
"You see this sine wave....?"
"Yeah...."
"If I were a mathematical element....I would be a sine wave...."
"Why tho?"
"Because...."
a slight gulp "I am...." "a smooth, continuous, periodic oscill- you know what nevermind."
"So you find yourself smooth?"
He looked up at you "I think my smoothness needs to be understood beyond."
"I see, I'll keep that in mind."
You were fidgeting with the pages of your book, while he was trying to come-up with something.
"You know...." now you began
"Hmmm?"
"Beauty will save the world."
"Yeah, it does save the world...." he furrowed his eyebrows.
"You must have a heavy responsibility."
"What?"
"What? Nothing."
There was a silence.
"Well I got to go...." he said
"Huh oh yeah, go back to the equations."
So stupid
Yeah he laughed slightly. "Bye ampli."
"Woah what?" you laughed "ampli?"
"It is short for amplitude."
"Why would I be an amplitude?"
"You know what...." he leaned towards you "....use your pretty brain and solve it, Shakespeare."
and with that, he left the library.
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When you both went to your seperate appartments, both of you started the detective work.
"Sinus wave....amplitude....?" you brainstormed
"Heavy responsibility.....?" he brainstormed
He sat by his desk, pushing his own books aside to write exactly what you said down.
"Beauty will save the world....you must have a heavy responsibility...."
For the naked eye, this is very simple to understand, but for him, it wasn't that easy.
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You opened a math book for the first time in a long time.
"Sinus....sinus sinus sinus...."
A periodic oscillation that represents a fundamental pattern in physics....
alright
"Amplitude....amplitude amplitude amplitude...."
The amplitude keeps the sine wave in scale by defining its vertical size and....
blah blah blah
"In scale...." you thought, "so....he is saying, I keep him in scale?"
----
After a while it finally clicked in Minho's head what you meant.
"Responsibility....so she thinks I am pretty?"
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With all the necessary information in your head, you didn't have to be delusional anymore.
The moment it really struck was when he proposed to watch a movie together. It was the most boring film ever, some film from the 30s about....you don't even know what was going on....
"Thank you." he suddenly said
"For what?"
"For what you said some days ago."
you tried to play coy "Hmm what did i say?"
"That "Beauty will save the-"
"Oh yes....you are welcome." you cutted him off
"You didn't let me finish."
"You don't have to."
The silence fell again, but....
"Well thanks for....calling me an amplitude....?"
"Ah so you figured it out, took you long enough." he said playfully
The silence came back and vanished intermittently. You saw him glancing at you and you glanced at him too. We both know what was hoping to come.
He suddenly prevented you from turning away by placing his hand on your jaw. Both of you looked at each other, drowning in each other's presence.
Fuck it
He closed the gap fast, before you could turn away. His kiss was needy, savoring every little brush on your lips, every tip he could feel. His lips were moving restlessly, his tongue brushing against your lips, making it difficult to keep them closed.
You could feel his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He massaged your head and made you change angles every couple of seconds.
You both started to catch eachothers desperate words, keeping them sounding in your ears.
His arms scooped around your waist, preventing you from breaking the kiss. When your head fell back, he didn't waste a second but to plant a path of love bites up your neck.
You felt him breathing at your neck, you felt every little brush of his tongue, you felt everything but more.
When you both were vulnerable with each other, the pleasure rose even more. His head was full of you; he was drunk and dazed and wanted to never stop being like this for you.
As sweat started to appear on his forehead and his hair started to clump, he didn't even think of stopping. You could smell him clearly, your nose right at his shoulder. This is what the poems learned you:
to savor every sweet little moment.
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When the sun started to rise again, you could feel two arms encircling your waist.
His face was buried in your hair and he mumbled ,
"Hmmm ampli...."
"Hmmm?"
He sighed, "ampli...."
"As in amplitude?"
You could feel him smile, "Yeah...."
"Stop saying nonsense, sweetie."
He leaned down to your ear and whispered
"Well, stop solving them."
And they say poetry and math don't dissolve together?
