Quentin knew exactly who he was and thought that by the time one is twenty years old, they should know who they are as well. His university seemed to be full of people who had no clue who they were and were desperately trying to figure it out in a handful of experiments that always went wrong. Quentin was above that and lived his life simply and with the all-important focuses of his studies, his family, and his girlfriend. All the daily activities that filled up his days didn't allow for time to wonder if he really was who he thought he was, and as far as he was concerned, there wasn't much wondering to be done.
His apartment was a little dim-lit one-bedroom off campus where he lived with his girlfriend, Katie, who was like him in a lot of ways and far different in others. She, like Quentin, knew who she was in all the complex terms that could be listed like references on a resume; a feminist, and a psychology major, and a catholic, and Taylor Swift fan. When she got down to it though, she wasn't all that complicated, and Quentin wasn't complicated either. They fit together like cogs in a machine, lining up to make everything tick, just perfectly.
Felix Simms was one of such people that had spent years experimenting, wondering, questioning himself over who he was and what he was supposed to be. Quentin could at least be comfortable in the knowledge that his classmate had eventually figured it out and now wore his colors proudly, unafraid of what someone might think of him if they happened to see him. Though Quentin wasn't entirely sure their colors matched, he could at least call him a friend in the comfort that they knew their own colors and each other's quite well. By the end of the semester since they had met, Quentin had begun to consider them good friends. He enjoyed spending time with Felix, though with his bluntness and vibrancy, Quentin restrained from spending too much time alone with him. As luck would have it, however, Felix and Quentin were assigned to present their final project together, and that meant Quentin would be spending a lot of time with Felix as they neared Christmas and the end of term.
As Quentin crossed the street towards the campus library, he kept his head down and his hands tightly hidden in his pockets to keep them from the slicing cold of December. The library was packed as it often was around this time with so many people cramming for the final exams. Quentin hurried past all the computer desks towards one of the Ebbing library study rooms hidden in the corner of the library which Felix had saved for their work.
The study room Felix had snagged was one of the smaller spaces. A round table sat in the center of the room with a few uncomfortable library chairs scattered around it. Grey light from the outside world streamed through, offset by the soft buzzing of fluorescent lights. Scribbled notes from whoever had used the room last were still written on the whiteboard, and Quentin noticed three columns titled in brown marker; Romeo, Juliet, Paris.
Felix was already inside as Quentin sat himself down, pulling out his notebooks, laptop, pens and highlighters and organizing them meticulously around him to create the same feeling of order he had at his desk at home before they could begin. Felix had a different way of doing things. His books were all open to different pages for different classes, and he was biting down on his pen cap as he read over something entirely different on his laptop. Quentin got a peek at the Buzzfeed article Felix was reading before he sat down. He kept a bright pink coat with him most days which was now draped over his chair so that his bright flamingo-patterned button up shirt stood out against his deep tanned skin. Quentin was entirely unsure how Felix was wearing a tan in December, but he vaguely recalled a mention of a spray tan product or another.
The pair of them would not have looked like friends from any outside angle. While Felix wore bright colors and rolled up the hem of his jeans, Quentin could often be found in grey or brown or whatever dim color could be found in his closet or the clearance rack. He didn't really need his clothes to show people who he was, and it seemed a waste to spend so much money something he was likely to rip or ruin. But Felix was different, and that change of pace comforted Quentin at least to some degree.
