everybody thought you were crazy for wanting to become a teacher. you had top grades in school, on top of playing piano and acting as vice-captain of the volleyball team. you could have been a lawyer, or some high-flying businesswoman in a pencil skirt and sharp blazer. instead, two years into a degree at a fairly average college, you stood in front of a class of kids, feeling as though your throat had been stuffed with cotton wool. maybe you were crazy after all.

 

you’d been at the high school for two weeks already, and still, your hands shook when you drew chalk along the length of the board, trying hard to avoid the scathing gazes of those whom you could barely call your juniors. they weren’t cruel, just quiet, but that was almost as bad. they gaped at you when you spoke with a soft voice, they texted when your back was turned. it was miserable. 

 

even worse was kim mingyu. he just sat at the back of the class, chin resting against his palm, smiling. every time you looked up over the top of your glasses, you could see him, dark eyes glazed over, lips parted. initially, you’d thought he was getting high before your classes, but when he began to hang back after class, leaning his tall, slim frame against your desk, asking about everything but the lesson just completed, you realised it was something different altogether.

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“miss, don’t you have a boyfriend?” you could see him now, tanned digits readjusting the buttons on his blazer, a slow grin painted on his face. you glanced at him from over a pile of test papers, round spectacles slipping down the slope of your nose, brow raised in shock.

 

“huh, i — -? don’t you think that’s an inappropriate question to ask?” he blinked at that before shaking his head and stepping closer to the desk, so the lacquered wood bit into his thighs, staring down at the crown of your head, turned to your work. 

 

he stood there, stationery, just watching. he might have said that he liked to see how you sighed gently before turning each page, or the way that you rolled up your sleeves before tackling a chapter. maybe he’d claim that he just loved when you bit your lower lip before awarding a mark. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

truthfully, all of that and more had been driving mingyu crazy for the past two weeks. it started on the third day of your placement, when you had leant beside him, smelling of vanilla and rosewood, a loose strand of hair tickling his cheek. it was innocent - you were just helping him with sentence construction. but his knees knocked, and his shoulders tensed, and all of his friends made fun of him afterwards. 

 

***

“did you see your face, man?! you froze up so badly, it was hilarious!”

 

***

at night, while you prepared lesson plans and rubbed the stress from under your eyes, he lay in bed, wondering what it might feel like to kiss you, one hand knotted in your hair, the other low on the small of your back. while you had anxious dreams about the coming days and weeks, he lived awaiting ecstasy, hazily hoping for your mouth. two years wasn’t that big a difference, after all. that was what he told himself every time you walked into the classroom, stifling a yawn, swinging a satchel. when his heart began to beat out of his chest.

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another week had passed when you decided that you had to confront mingyu about his behaviour. he was purposely failing class tests so he would have to stay behind to speak to you. every second was a miracle for him, another potential chance at a forbidden romance. for you, it meant only knots in your stomach, and not the kind that he felt.

 

 

“can you stay behind after class?” you didn’t announce it in front of everybody, instead leaning in beside him the way you did on that third day, tucking a straight curtain of hair behind your ears, eyes soft and pleading, your voice warm and breathy. he pulled at the collar of his shirt, nodding in silence. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“i know you’re failing these tests on purpose to see me.” staring down at the three tests you had received from him, covered in red crosses and corrections, a hot blush came to your cheeks. this wasn’t a conversation you particularly wanted to have, especially seeing how small you felt standing in front of the student, hands in pockets, head ducked.

 

“mhmm.” was all he said in reply, his gaze molten, a small pout on his face as he inspected an ink stain on the pinky finger of his left hand. that shot red hot fury up your spine, and the blush on your face intensified, eliciting a smirk from mingyu, who raised a brow in note.

 

“w-whatever this — whatever this is,” you motioned to his entire being with your hands, papers snapping angrily in the air, hair coming untucked from your ear. “it has to stop. no more after class talks, no more failing your tests. this little crush of yours has gone too far.”

 

“it’s not a crush.” he snapped at last, eyes gleaming fire now, like hot embers stirred to life once more. you blinked in shock, gripping the papers ever tighter in your hands.

 

“i don’t know what it is.” he murmured, defeat creeping into those deep tones, shoulders sinking, gaze flickering to the ground. in that moment, you ceased to be his teacher, reaching one hand up to the slope of his shoulder, a sad smile coming across your features.

 

“i’m sorry mingyu.” you managed at last, chewing hard on your lip before adding, “i wish things could have been different.”

 

he brightened up at that, catching your eyes, leaning in slightly to your cupped hand. the wide smile began to return to his face, and when you went to drop your hand to your side, he grabbed it, pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive skin of your wrist. his mouth felt good against your skin, warm, light, exciting. for a second you forgot yourself, stepping into his body, just as warm as his mouth. but it was wrong, so wrong. 

 

“hey! uhm, uh — -. don’t push your luck.” hand still caught in his, a breathy giggle slipped from your throat as he turned and started out of the classroom, calling as he walked through the door, broad grin the only thing betraying your encounter.

 

“i’ll see you tomorrow!” 

 

you weren’t altogether sure where this was going to lead. but tomorrow seemed like a good place to start.