When Mars first sat down next to you, smelling like coffee and also holding a cup of black liquid in his hand, you were sceptical. He didn't seem to like you. Nor anyone - anything else, really.

His whole appearance was dark, just like the coffee he brought to every lesson from that day on.

You didn't even know if he knew you were there, sitting right next to him, always trying to look at his notes, but he never wrote anything down.

Not that any paper on this planet could contain as much knowledge as his brain did.

When someone said something that he didn't agree on, he would shoot one of his looks across the room, shaking his head ever so slightly and sighting heavily.

You were afraid to talk when he was there.

Which was in every lesson, because he seemed to be exactly like you - but also entirely different.

It wasn't until you saw him eating a whole bar of dark chocolate all by himself before the lesson started that you realised who he really was.

He might cut you off in the middle of a sentence because he couldn't stand it any longer.

He might tell you to shut up because he had to think.

But he would also explain something to you if you didn't understand, and since he knew everything, he could explain so damn good.

He would send a documentation about sunflowers to you in the middle of the night because he was fascinated by it.

And sometimes he would even share his chocolate with you.