Raisel winced at Ian's words, but didn't say anything back. He couldn't. He knew the other boy was right, so instead, he tried to pay attention to the class. The voice of the professor droned, making it impossible though. Instead, in the silent room, he couldn't think about anything but the person sitting behind him. Eyes bore into his back. He didn't need to look behind him again to know it because of course Ian looked at him. The feeling crawled under his skin, starting at his tattoo and spreading out until it encompassed his entire body. His blooded rushed, making it impossible to hear. Every hair on his arms stood on end.

As the class droned on, he fought over and over the need to jump from his seat and run out of the room. How could he feel so hyper-aware of another person? It made sweat gather around his collar. Even that hand that had started out holding a pencil and paper needed to be dropped because he held the utensil so tight it hurt. And besides, he wrote not a single word. Finally though, the professor's din ended. The silence knocked him back and Raisel looked in shock to see students standing and heading for the door. It ended? Oh god, the class was over! Grabbing his things, he turned, vacating the room before anyone could even think about talking to him.

Once outside of the building, Raisel dropped a hand against a tree, trying to still his beating heart. "Damn it, Rais! Get yourself together!" he snapped under his breath, jabbing the heel of his hand against his forehead like he might beat the truth in. "Why are you getting so worked up about a single fag?" He groaned. He didn't understand this himself, but no matter what, he didn't want to see Ian again today. He didn't think he could explain his own horrible actions. Because he definitely didn't consider that he was the only one who thought he was out of place today.