<hr/><hr/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">"The Dewie Decimal Dilemma"</span></strong></span> </div><hr/><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://img2-ak.lst.fm/i/u/770x0/170aebbb4227403d8c9778599a42051c.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>NAME: </strong> Elijah Montero<br/><strong>AGE:</strong> 21<br/><strong>LOCATION &amp; TIME:</strong> Second Floor, Raina Library| 9/9/16 8:05 PM<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> Antonie Jepson  <em><strong>CLOSED</strong></em></span></span><br/><br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><br/><br/>Ok. It had been a week. A <em>long</em>  week, mind you, but a week, nonetheless. He'd hit up a few parties, graced a few familiar dorm rooms with his presence, but he still couldn't get the stuttering string bean out of his head. The fuck was the matter with him? Slipping dusty, dilapidated books back into their stacks distractedly, he tried to think of something else... <em>anything else</em>... besides Antonie and his magnetic pull. He had mountains of tedious assignments going undone in his fixation. Not like him at all, mind you. He was the golden boy, aside from his refusal to switch from dick. Deadlines were his life, even with a party hearty zest for life. <br/><br/>This week? He'd already missed three different periods' daily question and answer dealios, and he'd totally fucked off on that paper about The War of the Roses. A war, might he remind you, that had all sorts of romantic dalliances and political intrigue. He normally would've eaten that shit, up! But, nooooo... not this fucking week. Instead, he got to shift restlessly in class. He got to glance around corridors to see if Cutie McAdorable was barreling his way. He got to try and coerce the Admissions staff into giving him hints about the elusive students' class schedule, so he could 'accidentally' go limb to limb with him, again. <br/><br/>Not a single hair atop that fantasy inspiring head had been seen... ALL. WEEK. It was infuriating! It was for the best, honestly, because he wasn't exactly great at the whole relationship longer than a few blinks nonsense... But, that didn't mean he wasn't pissed at himself for hanging on this guy's every nonexistent action. He just had to see him one more time. Make sure that those ridiculous thoughts were just that.. thoughts. Putting him on a pedestal and admiring his hopefully hung loins from afar. Just one glance. <br/><br/>So, he waited. All students had to hit the library <em>sometime]</em>  right? Shifting around the next aisle with his dark eyes peeking through the cracks, he feigned an interested once over of "Whittaker's Guide to Gas Grills: Man Food." Great. A quick reference guide to go over whenever he was on his knees, ready to beat some thick meat into submission. <br/><br/><br/></span></span>