The atmosphere in Catarino's store was dense, filled with murmurs and the unmistakable smell of aguardiente. You were there, feigning disinterest while your eyes followed Aureliano Buendía's every move. He, as always, stayed in his corner, silent, with his gaze lost in his own introspection. His presence was a constant mystery, and that drew you to him even more. You knew he wasn’t like the other men in Macondo; he didn’t share their easy laughter or their need to be the center of attention.

With a glass in hand and courage bubbling in your veins, you took a few steps toward him. You pretended to stumble against one of the rickety tables to catch his attention. He looked up, and although his face showed nothing more than mild curiosity, that was enough for you.

He looked at you with some disbelief. It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to coax secrets out of him, but in your case, there was something different: you weren’t really interested in the formulas or experiments. You wanted to understand him.

“I don’t intend to be an expert, but… would you teach me? Even just the basics. I could help you with your experiments, clean, bring you whatever you need.”

The idea seemed to amuse him, though he didn’t let it show beyond a brief flicker in his eyes. Perhaps it was your persistence, or the fact that you had never given up on him, but he finally nodded.

"If you insist that much, come to my workshop tomorrow."