{ (adj.) done in secret; needing to be concealed. }

yifan slams the door shut as soon as he made a step on the rooftop of the school's main building.

he is in a bad mood, alright.

who wouldn't when the girl he's been courting for a few months dumped him for a freaking goody-two-shoes.

i'm really sorry but i already like someone. and bad boys aren't my type.

"ing minseok," he mutters under his breath as he slumped against the wall. who in their sane mind would want a ing nerd guy, choosing that- that thing over him? him who is the most sought-after in their school.

", she should feel lucky i want her. how dare she dump me."

he can't really accept this nonsensical matter.

clicking his tongue, yifan fishes a pack of cigarette in his pocket. smoking inside the perimeters of the campus is prohibited, that he knows. but he isn't labeled as a delinquent for no reason.

taking out a single stick, yifan places it in between his lips and pats his pockets in search for his lighter.

his brows crease slightly in annoyance when he can't find the object. "ing hell."

"need a light?" a voice interrupts him and yifan almost screams. (but he didn't because he's a bad boy and bad boys are manly. they don't scream.)

muttering a series of curses under his breath, he cranes his head towards the source of the voice and yifan splutters out incoherent words as soon as his eyes saw him.

"... minseok?" 

and boy, is he there, leaning against the fence much like in his own position. short cropped dark hair, opposite to yifan's platinum blond; neat, iron-pressed blazer; perfectly knotted neck tie that c