The bell rang, but Cian didn't acknowledge it. He didn't want to go to his next class. Not because he was worried that he would see the nameless man there---no doubt he was a chemistry student. His hands shook too much to work on something intricate, and he didn't want to try and fail and feel even worse. The ice in his chest started melting when he was alone, but a permanent shard was still there. It was uncomfortable, but hurt now. He couldn't shake the shocked, then angry expression on the other student's face, yet at the same time could get past that and dwell on him. But it had to be the result of whatever was in the bottle. It had to be. A love potion of sorts that really worked. He took his bag off his shoulder and settled it beside him, and picked up the bottle he still had.

It had been meant for someone other than him. Not him, of course not. That would have been too good to be true. Having a secret admirer was simply not a reality for him. Not Cian, the cripplingly shy social recluse who was forced to take art classes by his parents to overcome the despicable social phobia they had forced him to develop. He sniffed deeply, finally managing to stand up and walk shakily out of the courtyard and to one of the great trees that the school had been built behind. They stood proud in the front grounds, and were heavily shaded. Cian flopped down against the rough bark and put the bottle in the air, letting it hang. He didn't want to touch it anymore. It wasn't his. It hadn't been meant for him. For someone else. Perhaps the person right beside his locker. He sighed, feeling an emptiness inside him begin to well. Cian motioned his raised hand to the bottle and it began to expand as if it were a balloon, and formed cracks in the glass.

Though he knew it hadn't been for him, Cian couldn't stop thinking about the man. It hurt to do so, but he was on a single track and the cart was threatening to spill over. He sighed, and crushed his hand into a fist, and the expanded bottle shattered. Opening his bag, Cian let his energy bring out a sketchpad and pencil and flip it open to the first blank page. He didn't even watch as the pencil seemed to begin work on its own, sketching something out that he refused to pay attention to. Instead, Cian studied his hands, blinking hard to keep his thoughts from wandering.