teriyakiandginger

[teriyakiandginger]

[teriyakiandginger]

"You don't like me very much, do you?"

Teriyaki pauses, in the middle of shelving the stack of books in his arms. He doesn't look down, but he can see Ginger blinking curiously up at him in his peripheral.

He's relieved that he's at the very top of the ladder, so she doesn't notice the way his fingers tighten around the spine of the book and how he has to shift his weight so he doesn't lose his balance.

When he opens his mouth to respond, he draws in a shaky breath.

"I have no reason to like or dislike you." he responds curtly. "So long as you do your job properly."

That's right. He has no need for such useless sentiments; he's a man of science after all. Flowery language and cursory emotions are a waste of energy, and all detract from his ultimate goal of pursuing concrete, infallible knowledge.

He steadies himself and climbs down the ladder, ignoring how tightly his heart constricts when he sees her smile.

It's just an organ.

"I guess I walked right into that one," Ginger grins before nodding towards the stack of books in his arms. "need any help with those?"

"No." he simply says, pulling the ladder to the other side of the shelf. With his back turned to her, he's much more at ease. If he can't see her, then he can't find another attribute of hers to commit to memory.

She doesn't listen, though, she never does. Instead, she snatches the books from him and climbs the ladder herself before he can react.

"What are you doing?" he furrows his brows.

"Trying to get on your good side," she hums.

"Is this why you've been following me around all day?" he sighs.

She winces sheepishly. "Was it that obvious? I thought I was being pretty subtle." she says, as she lifts the stack of books that should be much too heavy for her.

Teriyaki, with eyes trained to notice and analyze every little detail, follows the movement as if it had a magnetic pull, dragging his gaze across Ginger's features. He drinks in the color of her eyes, the slope of her nose, the flutter of her eyelashes, the glow of her skin, and the tinted sheen on her lips like he were studying a textbook on astrophysics.

But it would be stupid to compare her to any branch of science.

Science produces results, logic and answers. She is loud and obnoxious, a hindrance more than a help to most of the daily tasks, cutting down productivity by at least fifty percent with her chattering and penchant for distraction.

She is a person with a naturally alluring disposition that draws people in. She is able to speak to anyone with a charm that seems mystical to him. She is a warmth that only exists in the confines of fantasy. She is everything he finds to be a waste of time in a person, and she is everything that he is not.

She is the only anomaly that he can't solve.

"You are many things, but subtle is not one of them."

The snide remark makes Ginger laugh, and the ladder, as old and rickety as it is, trembles at the motion. As if it were a reflex, Teriyaki reaches out his hand and steadies the ladder.

It's a pointless gesture, really. Him holding the ladder still doesn't eliminate the risk of her falling - yet, he grips the wooden material so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

"Is it so wrong of me to want to be friends with my classmate? We've been working together for ages now.", she whines.

'Friends'. What a ridiculous title, he thinks to himself. He and Ginger can barely even be regarded as acquaintances, but she's somehow found a way to establish a connection. Teriyaki doesn't even want to be acquaintances with her, most certainly not friends.

He despises that she is almost nothing to him. Why couldn't she be something or just nothing? She's almost. Almost something and almost nothing all at the same time. That grey area makes him feel, feel, feel-that damn word- like he isn't in control; it's an ugly, dark sensation that coils in the pit of his stomach like a venomous snake.

"I don't want to be friends with you," he chokes out, a desperate tinge to his voice that he hopes she doesn't notice.

"Well, I'm a lot more stubborn than you think, so just you wait." Ginger replies in a teasing manner.

A muscle in his jaw spasms just as someone calls out her name, sparing him from having to respond.

Teriyaki watches as her face, the one he's been enraptured with since the moment he's laid eyes on her, lights up with an expression that he will never be able to bring out of her.

She hurriedly climbs down the ladder, her conversation with him long forgotten, and he doesn't need to turn around to know who it is.

"Hoji!"

Logically, it makes sense that she would end up with Hoji. He leads with his heart instead of his head, he lets his personal attachments get in the way of rationality, and he's a person that will consider Ginger's feelings first and foremost. And above all, he has the capacity to love her.

Love, a mere chemical defect of the brain. Love, needless self-sacrifice for a temporary high. Love, a concept that Teriyaki will never understand.

He watches the way she smoothes out the non-existent wrinkles in her shirt,

the way she aimlessly fidgets with her fingers and bounces on the balls of her feet,

the way she drinks the can of black coffee he hands her even though she dumps at least five spoonfuls of sugar in her normal cup, the way she sucks on her bottom lip to hide the bitterness and smear away the lip gloss she put on especially for him,

the way her breath hitches when he laces her fingers through his and brings her knuckles to his lips.

The way she looks at Hoji just like Teri looks at her.

'"You don't like me very much, do you?"'

No, he doesn't.

[teriyakiandginger]

[TIME: 2:16 AM]

Teri yawned, blinking his eyes open to the unfamiliar buzz of his phone ringing. The foreign noise had him confused for a moment, before seeing the name on his phone screen and answering with less hesitation than he would like to admit.

"Hel-"

"HELLO!"

He flinched at the loud shout from the other side of the phone, blinking and clearing his throat as he brought the phone to his ear again.

"Jesus, you're loud."

"WOOOOO!"

He smiled.

"What's up? How's the party?"

"Good! Really good! -m drunk!"

"I can tell."

He yawned, sitting up in bed.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No, not at all."

He lied. Why did he lie? It's not like she'll remember in the morning. Yet, he couldn't stop his mouth from moving.

"I'm up finishing my essay."

"Y'need to sleep early!"

He scoffed.

"I don't sleep. Sleep is for the weak."

He can hear her fumbling around and giggling a little with her phone, before slurring: "Didya know, sleep depridation long term increases y'risk of getting diabetes?"

"Sleep deprivation." He thought. "depridation isn't even a word."

"I did not. Where did you learn that?"

He laughed a little at having to talk to her like a child. He did appreciate the effort she was making though.

"My friend told me earlier. Say hi!"

"Hi!"

He rolled his eyes, muttering a half hearted 'Hello'. He recognised that voice, and already wanted to march over there and-

No. Shut up. Everything is fine.

He hears some mumbles, and some laughs, and the opening of a door. He chews on his lip, trying to make out what she is saying.

"Alright, I'm going outside so I can talk to Teri. Be right back!"

He scoffs almost triumphantly at the fact that she's leaving this party she was so excited about, only to talk to him. He wonders how many people are there, who is there, what she's doing right now. what she's wearing right now.

He hears a thud and a groan from the other side of the phone.

"Ah, fuck."

Although a little worried, he had to stop himself from laughing.

"You alright? Did you just fall over?"

"Yeaaa..."

"Be careful."

"Okay, I'm good now."

He sighed.

"Sorry. I know I'm interrupting your work.

But I just wanted to call and talk to you."

Teri stared at his phone as if it was the only thing in the room with him.

"Okay. Hi."

"Hi."

A short silence filled the air, broken by Ginger's voice once again. He couldn't tell if she hated the silence or was just eager to tell him something. Either way, her voice was welcomed.

"This is important to me, by the way, l'm not just calling to annoy you. Even though I like to annoy you."

"Oh, I know. Okay. What's up, then?"

His nose twitched into a sort of anticipatory grimace.

"Teriyaki."

He froze like a child in trouble at the use of his full name. He didn't think she'd ever used that before, ever since they first met. It filled his stomach with some kind of twisted dread he hadn't felt in a long time.

"...Ginger."

"You are my best friend." She said, not slurring or unsure. She said it with complete certainty.

He felt comfortable with those words. The kind of comfortable you feel when you fall into a routine, and get used to doing the same thing every day.

"I am also good friends with our other friends. But you are my best friend. I'm...close to you. Maybe Miso too. But you, I like you a lot."

Comfortable. His expression contorted at realising he had to admit that he felt the same.

"...Likewise."

Silence again.

"Also, my phone mayyy or may not die mid call, so if I hang up without sayin' goodbye, I'm not bein' rude on purpose."

He couldn't help but feel like she's gone back to being more carefree and less earnest. Did he say something wrong?

"Noted."

More silence. He tapped his knuckles at the silence. Why can't she just say something? Anything to break this silence. Anything but having him stew in these thoughts. Anything-

"You know that night a few weeks ago?

When we...?"

Anything but that.

Why that?? Teri's face heated up quicker than he managed to get a word out. Pathetic, acting like such a teenager. It's not out of the ordinary for people to do...that. Why can't he even think about it?? This is ridiculous. Why is she bringing this up?? He thought to himself.

"Y-yeah. That was fun."

"It was fun. I really liked it. And I'm glad it was with you."

Teri buried his head in his hands, wishing she would stop.

"Something about consistently kissin' with you is... I dunno! I'm gettin' used to how your face feels. An' I like it that way. I like your warm hands."

He could vomit. He could practically see her stupid fucking smile.

"That's good. I think."

"Why 'you think'?"

He cursed himself that he even said anything. He just acted out of embarrassment.

"Because I don't know if it's risky."

"No, I know. I know what you're going to say."

It's not that Teri didn't like it. Or her. Very much the opposite. He just... wasn't used to feeling yet. Feeling anything. For her, for himself... all of this new emotion was alien to him. He wouldn't ever admit it, but it scared him a little. It's why he pushed everyone away from him. It was more like a habit than a conscious effort he made.

"I'm only letting us do this as long as it isn't emotionally complicated."

"Well, don't worry. I'm okay. It's not."

"Alright, good."

More silence. Fuck this shitty fucking silence. It was so grating.

"I'm just worried. I somehow feel like this is a morally shitty use of our friendship."

His mouth moved before he could think. It's almost like he was the drunk one here.

Ginger hummed in thought. "You know, I actually think it's good that we're doing this between friends."

"Why?"

Suddenly, he wasn't okay with being comfortable with her anymore. The mundanity of the same routine has grown tiresome. Teri found himself wanting more. More of her.

"Intimacy feels right when it's with someone I trust, even if it's platonic. And for me... it's not emotionally complicated. I've always had love for you, regardless of it being platonic or romantic or whaddever. You mean a lot to me."

He could hear her smiling.

"I like how your face looks, and I like what we're doing. There's nothing complicated about how I feel. You're my best friend. I love you."

His heartbeat was in his ears. It was a mixture of frustration and relief, and was the root of that twisted dreadful feeling. He wished more than anything that he could understand what she meant by all of this, but he couldn't.

"This sounds like it's reaching my definition of 'emotionally complicated'."

She sighed. "Okay. Let's forget about that definition for a second. How are you feeling?"

He hated this question. How the fuck was he supposed to know how he was feeling? The frustration was taking over his thoughts a little.

"It's not that I have nothing to say. I just don't know whether I'm saying it properly."

"Take your time."

He took a breath to calm down.

"I'm worried about hurting one of us. You're talking like you've caught feelings, and I'm just... this is all a lot."

She coughed. "I'm not catching feelings. And if I was, it wouldn't be a problem. We're friends. That's all that matters."

"That's not all that matters."

"You sound like you don't like this."

"No, no, it's not that."

She huffed, sounding frustrated. "Then what are you so afraid of? I can take care of myself."

"I just care! God, I just... care. About you."

Silence. But it wasn't uncomfortable this time.

"I understand what you said, but friends are supposed to care about each other. I would resent myself if this hurt you. And I'd rather set that boundary than let it get any worse."

"Okay. I understand."

She feels distant. He thinks.

"I'm just trying to be sure that this is right, and I have no idea whether it is. Maybe I worry too much about us, but I don't want either of us to fuck this up."

"Yeah, I know. But we won't, though."

As he was talking, Teri heard a few people shouting for Ginger in the background.

"And I'm sorry if this is coming out all wrong; it's just hard to say that I-

[CALL ENDED]

-love you too."

[teriyakiandginger]

C43H66N12O12S2

Teri pulls the door to his container shut with a little more effort than he would usually have to use. The grinding of the metal grates on him, making him swiftly aware of his short temper. He draws a heavy breath as he collapses into his desk chair, head growing heavier as he scans the various vials and scrawled papers in front of him. So fucking tired.

Arguably, it was his own fault for staying late in the library. He was curious about the anomalies in his new social bonding serum, so he decided researching neuropeptides would likely help him to stabilize the formula.

What he failed to realize, unfortunately, is that the neuroscience section is rather difficult to find, which caused him to bump into his favorite classmate, who rambles on and on- she spoke for two- no, almost three hours? about how the formula to her favorite- what was it? lipstick? lip gloss? Whatever the difference is- had been changed, so now instead of being 'glossy' it's just sticky and she couldn't possibly live on any longer with such a detrimental change to her daily routine-not that he was paying much attention. Hoji was there too, but he was barely even worth any of Teri’s time or attention. He barely even managed to research anything before the library closed.

It's fine, he has the basics down. He managed scrawl a few lines as to how crustacean cardioactive peptide can help slow the heart rate- no, that doesn't look right- oxytocin is used for strengthening the bonds between lip gloss-

Something isn't right here. His notes are seriously messed up. What was he thinking?

After trying to piece together any kind of cohesive information for longer than he would like to admit, he sighs defeatedly and comes to the conclusion that maybe he didn't get much useful information after all.

"It's fine," he mumbles to himself, "I know that oxytocin is an emotional hormone. I definitely wrote it for a reason…" ramblings trailing off as he examines the page once again.

"Oxytocin."

Even though his eyes were burning and his head felt heavier than ever, he couldn't let this epiphany pass.

He aimlessly reaches for his materials, almost knocking the only vial of his social bonding serum to the ground- if it weren't for his quick reflexes, the only proof of his efforts would be emptied onto the floor. His eyes dart across the table, subconsciously inspecting and organizing the disorganized array of bottles and powders that cluttered his desk. He had an obscure talent for somehow knowing where everything was, and the quantity of whatever he needed at just a quick glance.

"Surely I have some oxytocin combination capsules around here somewhere- ha! here they are."

Teri had previously studied the effects of oxytocin on emotions, how it can chemically evoke empathy and deeper emotional understanding between people, something he has never been able to naturally come to experience. He recalls the conclusion he came to at the end of his study; for healthy young adults, too much oxytocin can result in oversensitivity to the emotions of others. In layman's terms, in moderation, it can make you better at social interaction.

With painstaking accuracy, he selects one of the small purple capsules from the jar and begins to dissect one of them, scraping a small drop of the liquid into the vial before releasing the breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

"That should do it."

Teri lets out a yawn and sets down the jar of capsules. He shuffles over to his bed and collapses onto it, the bags under his eyes growing darker by the second.

He wants nothing more than to pass out and completely recharge his social battery. Who knew that such menial chatter could be so physically draining? His mind wanders around all of the topics he could have studied if he would have just left.

Why did he stay? Why didn't he simply get up and walk away? Did he really dislike her company that much?

His penchant for overanalysis paired with the adrenaline from a late night inspiration makes falling asleep uncharacteristically difficult.

He reaches over to his desk and grabs a bottle of sleeping pills. It's a rare occurrence that he can't get to sleep, but he likes to be prepared nevertheless- granted, it's been years since he's had any kind of nightmare, but the thought of staying awake any longer is slowly turning into one.

With a fatigued groan, he swallows two pills and throws the bottle back onto his desk, rolling over in his bed to face the wall.

His mind was still buzzing with fractured strains of dialogue from earlier within the day.

Ginger was never helpful when it came to studying. He vaguely recalls the conversation they had about how tired they were, and the can of iced coffee she got handed by Hoji, and how her nails were always stupidly too long to open the can. The way her eyes sheepishly darted up to meet Teri's, with a pathetic glance that said; 'Can you open this?'. We're not friends. Why not ask him? The stupid little grin she made when he handed her back the stupid coffee. The way she traced the rim of the stupid can with her fingers. The way her lips connected with the rim of the can, and he had to stop himself from staring.

Her lips.

Teriyaki shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, a breath being ripped from his lungs. How long has it been? It was darker than before, so maybe a few hours- Why is my heart pounding? He thought to himself- No, not pounding, more like vibrating. His heart had never beaten so fast in his life. He clutches his chest, afraid that if he move, his heart would beat that little bit faster and he may just have a heart attack.

He stumbles over to the sink in a wary manner, all of the moisture in his mouth had dried up long ago. He reaches for a glass, the cold glossy material burning his skin.

Gloss.

His head spins so violently he almost throws up right there. Holding onto the sink to stop himself from falling, he takes a gulp of water. His grip on the basin was so firm he could probably shatter the porcelain with any expended effort. An indescribable heat rising through his whole body, he is overcome with some kind of emotion, one that he couldn't possibly explain.

He can explain everything. There is a set formula to absolutely everything, what makes this any different? He tries to take a deep breath, but it hitches in his throat and he ends up coughing it back up again.

What is happening?

His mind was reeling. He attempted to rationalize anything in his mind, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his still dry mouth, tracing his lips.

Lips.

His grip on the sink falters and he stutters backwards, clumsily dragging multiple bottles and canisters to the ground with him. Every sound echoes painfully and rings in his ears, and he hears every individual item connecting with the cold ground of his room.

He pants as he frantically tries to find something to grab onto, but his body betrays him. He feels like every muscle is contracting at once, wildly out of his control.

No. Nothing is ever out of his control. His body is behaving abnormally, all he has to find is the anomaly.

He sloppily hoists himself up onto his desk chair, desperate at this point. He manages to pull on the string of the light that hangs above his desk, illuminating the mess before him. The light, dim as it is, burns his eyes in a way it would if you were to look directly into the sun.

He blinks repeatedly, frenziedly scouring anything in his line of sight, trying to make sense of what the fuck is going on.

Laboriously, he attempts to recall his steps up until this point. He took his usual route home. He was tired, why was he tired? The library. The library, what happened in the library?

I was studying. What was I studying?

Her lips.

No, my focus was on-

Lower.

No, I was trying to figure out how to stabilize-

Lower than her lips.

He shakes his head futilely, trying to get back on track. Even his inner monologue is betraying him. He remembers coming back home, working on the serum and going to sleep.

No, he couldn’t get to sleep. His mind was preoccupied.

Why can’t I take my mind off of-

His mind snaps back to the notes he wrote while he was in the library, and dread coils in his stomach. His shoulders curl forward, and it feels like his chest is about to cave in. All knowledge of respiration is banished from his head, and he struggles to regulate his breathing.

He reaches for the bottle of sleeping pills, fingers trembling. Reading the label on the front, all of his fears are confirmed.

“Oxytocin. I took a quadruple dose of fucking oxytocin.” he growls to himself, slightly frustrated and embarrassed at his lack of organisation.

Still sweating, he files through the symptoms of oxytocin overdose in his mind, applying them to his current predicament. Confusion, check, convulsions and seizures, difficulty in breathing, fast or irregular heartbeat, headache, pelvic or abdominal pain- all of the boxes are ticked so far, but there’s one more glaring problem.

Lower.

Shameful scenes danced around in his head like bubbles in a river, out of his control, causing him to gasp for air once again. The chair he was sitting on teetered backwards, throwing him onto the floor once again. His head hits the edge of his bedframe, intensifying the cloudiness of his vision, and his headache practically splits his head in two.

“How long have I gotta wait this out?” he breathed, wiping sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt.

The past few minutes have already felt like an eternity. It didn’t help that his mind was wandering to places he didn’t want to go to, and his breathing and heart rate were still rapidly increasing. He knew it wasn’t lethal, but part of him was hoping he could just curl into a ball and die right there. Attempting to come to grips with such an alien emotion, while still having all of these intense physical symptoms, was an uncomfortable ordeal to say the least. He racks his brain as to how the overdose and these overwhelming feelings are related. After a feverish rant, his thoughts begin to spill out of his mouth.

“Oxytocin is only produced naturally during the most intense human experiences such as childbirth and reproduction-”

All of the pieces finally click into place, and he buries his head in his hands. A wave of embarrassment washes over him once again. As someone who doesn't experience emotions often, let alone one this intense, all he can do is wish the thoughts away. Why her? Of all people? Why is she the one on his mind? Complex strings of thought are too much to manage for Teri at this point in time. Let alone about her. He lets out a heavy sigh, another futile attempt to regulate his breathing.

As he lay exasperated on the floor, he could feel his body beginning to give in to the exhaustion, and his vision was becoming more and more blurry, fluttering between static and vivid hallucinations.

As consciousness fades away, so does his rationality. He half-laughs to himself.

“I should really organize my desk.”