With quick steps, the young man hurried to the train. At the last second, he squeezed through the squeaking doors and slipped inside.

Completely out of breath, he looked for a seat on the train, which was already somewhat crowded at this hour. He skillfully opened his beige trench coat (it was autumn) and sat down, after he was sure the seat was free.

Breathing heavily, he ran his hand through his blonde hair, leaned back, tilted his head back, and briefly closed his eyes. After all, he catched a seat facing the direction of travel. Sometimes he felt nauseous when traveling backwards.

Once his breathing calmed down, he opened his eyes and looked around. Almost a loud sigh escaped him. Day after day, the same routine. Get up, get ready, hurry to the train, go to work, and return again. He had been a sociology lecturer for about four years, teaching various courses and seminars. For four years, he had seen almost the same people on the train. He knew them all by heart. The power of habit meant that the same people got on the same train at the same time, and best of all, sat in the same carriage.

Routine. Everyday life.

That had caught up with Felix long ago.

Every fraking day, he sat on this train on his way to the university. On most days, overcrowded, stuffy, and way too loud. Getting a window seat was the best thing Felix could hope for. But by now, he knew every house they passed, every tree, and every single damn blade of grass outside. The window seat was no longer as appealing as it had been at the beginning. But this way, he didn't have to stare at the people around him or study the floor in front of him for minutes on end.

He knew the faces of the passengers inside the train by heart as well. Today, he had sat next to the young fake blonde lady. With a ten-centimeter layer of makeup on her face and a persistent cloud of perfume that could still be smelled kilometers behind her, Felix could recognize her even with his eyes closed. She was always already in the train when he got on, finishing her makeup in public, taking her phone, admiring her work with a brief fake smile in the camera, only to return to her resting bitch face immediately after.

With a brief glance straight ahead, Felix checked the passenger across from him, sitting at the window seat. A metal type through and through, probably around 25 years old, long dark brown hair, a goatee, and a black ankle-length coat. Music was blaring from his JBL headphones, and he was staring blankly out the window.

"You know, I used to work as a train conductor. That was quite a while ago, you know. Back then I..."

Then there was Walt. Walt was probably about 80 years old. An older man, with a mustache and a hat, who took the train every morning during rush hour, even though he was retired, just to chat with people. Those who knew him for along time learned to avoid him, fleeing as soon as they saw him. Everyone had already heard Walt's story, and with all due respect to our senior citizens, there was no worse time to be chatty than in the morning on the way to work.

Felix's seat directly across from him was still empty, so he stretched his legs a bit. The ride took about 45 minutes, so the blonde also took out his JBL headphones, rummaged for his phone in his pocket, and opened Spotify.

Your Weekly Mix. A good choice for a Monday, so he pressed play and enjoyed the music. From time to time, his gaze would secretly wander through the crowd, just to make sure he wasn't missing anything. But nothing had happened here for a long time. Even when the train braked at the next station and more people boarded, there were no updates. Or was there? The rather chubby guy who normally got on with a giant cup of coffee and a chocolate croissant now had an apple in hand. But that was it for excitement, and Felix increasingly focused on his music and dozed off.

A shake signaled that the next station had already passed. But when he suddenly felt a touch on his leg, he jolted awake and opened his eyes abruptly.

There he was. The news Felix had been waiting for.

The handsome young man standing in front of him was a stranger to Felix. He had never seen him on this train before. The handsome guy had black, shoulder-length hair, a bit shorter than his own, a symmetrical face, chocolate-brown eyes, a mole under his left eye, and full lips that were moving.

Oh.

Immediately, Felix took off his headphones and listened to what the handsome man was saying.

"Is this seat taken?"

"No. Please," the blonde gestured to the seat and pulled his legs closer to make room for the long legs of the guy.

Automatically, Felix sat up straighter, not wanting to look like a potato sack on the seat. He hardly knew where to put his eyes and chose to look down instead.

There, his gaze fell on the black boots. They were very stylish and formed a sharp contrast to the otherwise all-white outfit.

As Felix was studying the clothing, the young man opposite him took out a notebook and a pencil, drawing Felix's attention.

Felix watched with interest as the other man scribbled in the notebook, secretly wondering what he was doing and what he might be writing in his book.

Suddenly, the writer paused and looked up. Their eyes met, and Felix couldn't help but feel caught, having stared at the stranger for several minutes. With slightly reddened cheeks, Felix turned his head away, trying hard not to look at him again.

The floor was terribly boring, and it took all of Felix's concentration to keep his gaze fixed on the floor pattern until something green briefly entered his field of vision.

Instinctively, Felix ducked down after the pencil, got up, and found himself looking directly into those chocolate brown eyes. The handsome man had dropped the pencil.

Hesitantly, Felix handed him the pencil and got lost in that intense gaze. The other man held it unwaveringly, and an odd tension built between the two. When the stranger's fingers brushed Felix's, a tingling sensation shot through his fingers and up to his stomach.

He saw the full lips move and assumed he was being thanked, nodding only. The song playing in the background didn't really register with Felix. Instead, he became more and more lost in those eyes, until the handsome man looked away with a smile and returned to his notebook.

Jolted out of his trance, Felix chastised himself internally for this ridiculous action and spent the rest of the ride staring at his fingernails.

Why not look at his phone? He didn't want to lose himself in the screen, so he forced himself to keep his phone in his pocket during the ride.

The metal-type's sense of departure told Felix that his stop had to be next.

Reluctantly, he stole another glance at the stranger, who was so engrossed in his notebook by now that he no longer noticed the world around him.

Finally, the train stopped at Felix's station. His gaze lingered on his counterpart, somehow hoping for one last exchange of glances. But the stranger was too absorbed in his work, so Felix closed his coat, got off, and walked toward the university.

With one last look back at the moving train, Felix secretly hoped to see the stranger again tomorrow.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

First Chapter!

Hope you like it and want to read more of the story :-)

:3