Professors who read their presentations instead of teaching are what Felix calls: ‘inkompetente Arschlöcher’. He expects the best of the best from professors in a prestigious university, more-less from Harvard itself.

However, his expectations falter; he’s stuck in his bedroom, the marker lid off with his laptop on his lap and a bunch of books he borrowed from the library. He uses that active recall technique he uses, which works out for him. But, the fact that he has to self-study because the professor gives no shits in actually explaining anything is infuriating for him. Moreover, the lectures are on World War I! To him, the most overrated period in history.

He groans in concentration as his lips press the lid of the marker, recalling as much as possible before jotting down onto the white board. Despite that, the minute he hears the door creak and the sounds of keychains are heard, his train of thought suddenly breaks down. One thing he hates, when someone interrupts him in his concentration mode even if it’s his boyfriend.

“Scheiße! Can yoo fur ze love of god knock? I am virking!” He hisses to the other side; albeit, a lot more lighter and bantery. He’s not mad but annoyed—two different things to him.