<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span style="font-size: 15px">Violet streaks stained the dawning earth as a golden globe arose in the East and shattered every surface with rays of light. Honestly, these were the moments Tiger lived for. For the shifting shadows in the landscape to evaporate, for the awakening of creatures who's tongues he could not decipher, for the crest of a bright illumination as the sun grew conscious along with the mankind. Everything about dawn reminded him "Today is new! A start over," and damn did he need every single opportunity to hit the reset button. Sitting on his cot as he doggedly blinked to the window in front of him, he knew certain events could not change even with the morning's promise. How unfortunate to attain such a level, such an irreparable and irreversible state. Of course, he had never been a goody-two-shoes, but living in agony or guilt or brokenness every day seemed cruel. So Tiger liked to pretend he did not experience the aforementioned unless a situation struck home too deep and rooted. <br/>
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In the quiet patience of his fraternity house, Kappa Sigma, he sighed through his nostrils and deployed from the mattress to the bathroom. Luckily, as a Junior he had his own suite and he thoroughly enjoyed the solitude. Even better is when he <i>did </i>have someone to bring to his domain, since the utter privacy and singularity always remained. Through a general perspective, Tiger socialized decently with his 'brothers' and had a good time no matter the cause: a social event, house party, game and movie nights, vacations and charity balls. Residing in a miniature mansion with a bunch of decently attractive men certainly fit his standards of the future he envisioned and he only complained a little when the pranks angled his direction. Regardless, Tiger also found the living arrangement difficult as arguments reared at every corner and tensions were on edge from time to time. Plus, keeping his sexuality in check had been as arduous as sneaking in his one nightstands. <br/>
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Stripping off his boxers, the man used his foot to nudge together the dirty laundry he had, also resolving to run errands later on. Tiger swiftly  snagged a couple of fresh items from his wardrobe and hustled into the bathroom, locking the entry behind him in case someone opted to play a joke on him...again. Once he flipped the shower handle, lukewarm water spraying on tile, he stepped inside the square barrier, and shut the glass door behind him. Soap bubbles spread along his limbs and torso as he soothingly washed his muscles, stretching his occupied palm lower and higher to lather the majority of his body. Water rinsed the tickling froth; shampoo, conditioner and a second rinse followed in suit. After turning the knob down with a <i>creak, </i>he popped the entrance wide and shivered in the cool air. Fingers latched onto a towel hanging on a steel rack and he coiled the fabric around his waist in comfort.<br/>
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Wrestling into a pair of khakis, a loose-fitting white tank with a logo and Vans, he briefly blow-dried his dark locks in the mirror and combed the tangled strands. Tiger took pride in his reflection, apart from the spare moments when he drunkenly brawled with opponents, and even then he applied makeup to the affected areas. Luckily, no physical altercations had occured and he happily admired the man staring in return. Pleased, he exited the bathroom and scooped his laptop into his forearms, heeding the time blaring on his alarm clock as he aimed for his first hour. <br/>
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Humanities had a subtle interest him, one of the few classes he actually studied and prepared for. As he sauntered in and seated himself for the lecture, Tiger propped his device and booted the technology. A male deposited next to him, someone vaguely familiar as he had seen the face here and there; also, the man had grown curiously notorious for his random lacerations, bruises and fractures. Rumors, like high school, floated around in university, especially between frats and sororities. Personally, he wondered if the stranger fought, boxed or wrestled, but the man did not appear physically healthy enough for any of the above. As the lecture intiated and he typed notes on his computer, he gradually noticed the male drifting into the dream realms of unconsciousness. Nudging him gently with an elbow, he leaned down and whispered softly as to not alert the professor nor students around. "Hey, wake up buddy,". </span></span>