Three; Yixing

The first person that I ever kissed was an exchange student from China named Zhang Yixing.

There were two of them one semester, coming to Seoul together as some sort of partnership program between the schools for second year. One was blond, with really big doe eyes, and the other had brown shaggy hair and an adorable dimple. 

“We were hoping to assign who of the student council members to be their guides,” Joonmyun explained as one of his last duties as Student Council president. “I think it would make them feel so much more welcome and at ease.” At once, his gaze locked onto me. “Any volunteers?” he asked, pointedly. 

I supposed that it could be a nice experience. So what, if I didn’t speak any Chinese? 

I almost forgot about the entire thing during break, and was only reminded of it until I received an email from my exchange student two weeks before the start of classes. It was written in Korean, a little stiff and formal, but very understandable. His name was Zhang Yixing, and he was from Changsha.  

The language thing was never a problem in the end. Yixing spoke accented Korean, but it was good enough for most conversation. 

He also got along weirdly well with Sehun, and he got roped into being a temporary member of the dance club. In the end, Yixing probably spent just as much time with Sehun as he did with me. It was okay, though. Our friendship expanded to include Yixing, who was a complete sweetheart. We took him around to all the cool places in Seoul, complete with weekend trips to Busan and Jeju. His time in Korea was limited after all, and Sehun and I were determined to show him a good time. 

Yixing was a sweet boy, innocent almost to a fault. He viewed the world with rose tinted glasses and always saw the good in people, optimistic about every aspect of his life. His sleepy eyes and gentle smile were calming, addicting. He had a unique sense of humor and often spaced out while thinking about weird things. 

Please Subscribe to read the full chapter