“We have to get into teams and work on projects for Business Students Association,” you grumble.

Kyungsoo matches his short strides with yours, his hand patting your shoulder soothingly. “You’ll do fine,” he insists, soft laughter punctuating his words. “It's not the end of the world if you get paired up with some stupid people.”

It's when the old building fades into view that Kyungsoo pats you sharply on the back, before leaving to cram for a test he probably didn't study enough for.

The meeting begins, and perhaps you would be more informed on exactly what you’re supposed to be doing if you just paid attention to the people explaining rather than reading for another class. You're rather baffled when students suddenly begin getting out of their seats and shuffling around the room like marbles rolling around on wooden floors.

It's only until someone calls your name, telling you that you’ve been assigned to their group, that you shuffle out of your seat, apologizing tersely to who you assume is your group leader. You're listening to the male, who says something boring about critical thinking to solve financial problems, until your attention is quickly driven to the person taking the seat across from you. You look up from picking lint off your jacket to see a pair of eyes mirroring the surprise written over your stoic face.

Jinhee.

Of course.

She’s even more surprised when you turn away with disinterest, as if your gaze has simply raked over a stranger rather than the best friend of your roommate. It's a group discussion, so you do engage somewhat, speaking to her only if necessary. When you speak to her, your voice is monotone and sharp, reminiscent of how a strict professor speaks to a rambunctious student.

It's after the discussion is over that Jinhee blurts, “I thought you weren't going to talk to me.”

“As much as I don't want to interact,” you sigh, “I don't want to get kicked out of this club. Any interaction between us is strictly on a business-level. It's nothing personal.”

The students around you are laughing with their friends or complaining about their classes, fingers impatiently drumming against the tables for the club meeting to be dismissed. Among the sea of cheery students is the gaping abyss between you and Jinhee. You know by the way she refuses to avert her gaze from you that she has something to say.

“You really don't understand why I don't like you,” she sighs.

“I didn't think I had to,” you respond indifferently. “A lot of people don't like me, if you haven't noticed. I'm not exactly nice and bubbly.”

Jinhee lets out a sarcastic chuckle, before hurt hardens the sharp features on her pretty face. “It's not just because you’re cold and mean,” she says, and you can feel the anger pulsing through every word. “It's because you’re like this but Jongin likes you. There's so many nice people on this campus and he likes you.”

“Jongin likes everybody,” you remark.

You're not sure whether it's insecurity or envy that contorts Jinhee’s face into a grimace, but you realize it's both when she says, “Have you noticed that Jongin refuses to do anything else or speak to anyone else when he's around you?”

Your lips are slowly sewn together by realization.

“Have you noticed how Jongin is so obsessed with you and doesn't like anyone else being with you?”

Your eyes suddenly take interest in the ground.

The meeting is dismissed, and everyone is shuffling out, while Jinhee is staring you down.

“Jongin likes you more than just a friend,” she states.

“I told you, we’re just roommates, and that’s all he’s ever going to be,” you repeat.

“Are you sure you’re not interested him at all?”

There's a brief silence filled with prolonged thoughts, before you strongly conclude, “I’m not.”

Both of you are rather surprised when an unfamiliar hand finds its place on your shoulder, a low voice muttering your name. You turn your head slowly, only to meet the eyes of Oh Sehun.

“Are you busy?” he asks. “If I could, I’d like to speak with you.”

You’re actually not, but you’re thinking of lying to not talk to Sehun.

However, you don't, because you’d much rather talk to Sehun than Jinhee.

“I'm not busy,” you murmur.

“Great,” Sehun smiles, although the smile seems more of a victory than of genuine content.

You don't say another word to Jinhee as you sling your bag over your shoulder and follow Sehun.

“I scribbled my number in that pamphlet I gave you,” Sehun begins. “I’m not sure if you noticed.”

“I did.”

“And you didn’t call me?” he asks, feigning hurt.

Your lips remain sealed.

“Was that your friend?” he asks, even though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.

“No.”

“Who is she?”

“I don't think it's any of your business,” you mumble as he opens the door for you. You don't know exactly where he's taking you and why you’re following. Perhaps it's the condescending aura or the hauteur in his sharp gaze.

“I'm just trying to strike up a conversation,” he says, at what you think is an attempt to be warm. Once again, Oh Sehun never fails to surprise you when he asks, “Do you like Japanese food?”

It's even before the consideration crosses your mind that you stop in your tracks and blurt, “I don't eat lunch with strangers.”

“I thought we already went over introductions last time.”

A conversation between you and Sehun is less like a ping-pong match with questions and answers bouncing back and forth and more like a standoff, each person refusing to let the other win with their harsh words.

“The only reason I said I wasn’t busy was because I didn’t want to deal with her,” you clarify, refusing to call Jinhee by her name. “But in reality, I don’t have any intention of speaking with you.”

“I’m a very persistent man,” Sehun insists. “If you don’t want to eat with me, you need to give me a reasonable explanation as to why you refuse.”

“I just don’t want to.”

“That’s not a valid reason,” Sehun says, arms crossing over his chest.

His eyes bore into you, and he lets out a sigh when your lips remain pursed and you refuse to speak. “Fine, then let me take you somewhere else.”

“No.”

“You do understand that I’m going to ask you until you agree, right?” he asks. You see the thoughts whirring in his mind, before he announces, “How about this- you let me take you somewhere just for today and we actually have a genuine conversation, and I won’t ask you ever again. I can’t promise I’m not going to speak with you, but I won’t ask to take you anywhere and I won’t ask for any favors from you.”

You’re tempted to tell him that you don’t want to go anywhere with him at all, but you easily read the tenacity in his determined eyes and realize one date is better than several.

“Fine.”

That’s how you end up almost half an hour later not at a restaurant but at the art museum near the campus, Sehun trailing closely behind you as you admire the works. The corner of Sehun’s lip tugs into a small smile when he sees your jaw drop in admiration and your eyes darting quickly between the large paintings adorning the wall.

Your pride would never admit it, but you are actually glad to see the new exhibit.

Sehun clicks his tongue, which draws your eyes to him, and he chuckles, “You spent so much time trying to refuse me, just for you to enjoy your time here. I take it you’re interested in art?”

You turn from Sehun’s chiseled face to a large oil painting of ocean blue and crimson red whirling together in a hurricane of colors, and you ask, “Are you?”

Sehun actually lets out laughter that sounds like it’s coming from his chest and not from his cunning mind. “You never let anybody win, do you?” he asks, and you swear you can hear admiration trickling into his words. “But it depends. There’s certain pieces I like, but I guess it really depends on who I see them with.”

You pretend you don’t hear Sehun as you continue walking through the exhibit, your shoes echoing against the polished marble floors and his arm not so subtly brushing against yours.

It’s once an hour has passed that you’re back in Sehun’s car.

You reach for the seat belt but one of his arms holds your wrist down while the other reaches for the seat belt. His face is unnecessarily close to yours as he puts on your belt for you, drawing back quickly and resting his hands against the steering wheel as if nothing happened.

The engine spurs to life and its low droning almost lulls you to sleep, but you jolt awake when Sehun chuckles, “Sleeping again?”

“I’m a college student,” you remark. “I’m sleep-deprived.”

You expect another snarky remark or a joke about you, but you are actually taken aback when he asks, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You’re hesitant to answer, but you say, “No, but there’s… someone. I mean, I’m not sure how to feel about them.”

“Ah,” Sehun says, and he’s rather quick in hiding his disappointment.

The engine’s roaring is reduced to murmuring as you tell Sehun the directions to your apartment. He slows to a stop, and you thank him briefly before getting out of the car. It’s before you can shut the door and run away from Sehun that he says, “I enjoyed today. As I said before, I’m still looking forward to speaking to you more. And I do hope you consider that offer.”

You nod tersely before quickly turning away.

You return to your apartment, pushing the door open and greeting Jongin, who is splayed on the couch. He smiles at you, but when your thoughts travel to Sehun, you feel a sort of guilt towards Jongin.

Your fingers frustratingly curl into your hair.

Why are you feeling guilty towards a male you’re not even dating?

You let out a long breath as your fingers dip into crystal water, and as odd as it is, you can’t even feel it between your fingertips. A bed of soft flowers weaves into your hair, petals brushing against your cheek. Your tired mind is finally at peace, until you feel you’re being shaken.

Your eyelids refuse to part as your head lifts off from the desk you’re sitting at. You’re being awaken from your dreams, and you feel as if you’ve been drowning, only to be pulled onto ground while your splutter, your lungs trying to take in air.

“You have to learn to stop sleeping everywhere,” Minseok chuckles.

Your head reels as you squint through the bright lighting of the room, your mind slowly registering like an old machine that you’re in a writing club meeting with Minseok beside you. You slur a few murmurs about the air conditioner being too strong, your hands running along your bare arms. Minseok drapes his jacket around your shoulders.

“Satisfied?” he asks.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your head falling against his shoulder as you try to pull yourself back into the depths of sleep.

“Your head’s so heavy,” Minseok playfully groans, whimpering when you pinch his arm.

A loud screech rings in your ears and you jolt awake for the second time, only to see Jongin at the other side of the room, quickly getting up from his seat.There’s hurt in his eyes, but he quickly turns away and storms out of the room.

You’ve never seen Jongin upset before.

Your eyes close once more.

You would deal with him later.

A jolt of pain travels along the back of your neck.

Probably from sleeping on desks too many times.

You curse as one hand massages the back of your neck while the other fits the key into the crooked lock of your apartment door. It’s after nearly two minutes that the door creaks open, revealing a glimpse of dirty laundry and papers strewn around tables.

When you step inside, you see Jongin wrapping a coat around his body, not even greeting you though you make a show of throwing your shoes on the floor and stepping loudly inside.

“Are you going somewhere?” you ask, realizing that he’s not going to say anything unless you urge him to.

“I’m going to help Jinhee with something,” Jongin murmurs rather coldly. His lips don’t curve into the cute boyish smile that once annoyed you but you now find yourself waking up to every morning.

“I don’t have that much work today,” you say. “I was thinking of watching a movie and ordering some food.”

“Alright,” Jongin says without interest. “Why don’t you call Kyungsoo? Or Minseok?”

Your eyebrows furrow together as Jongin spits the male’s name in disgust, almost.

“Jongin, are you okay?” you ask. Thoughts of Jinhee continue to whir in your mind, but you assure yourself that Jongin doesn’t like you, he can’t like you.

“I’m fine,” he huffs.

He fixes his collar, fingers reaching for the doorknob. You repeat in your mind that you don’t like Jongin, but for some reason, you don’t want him to go.

You don’t want him to go to Jinhee.

Perhaps it’s the bold disposition you’ve been hiding or perhaps it’s just a spur of the moment, but you throw yourself forward and grab Jongin by the wrist. Your hand quickly grabs his arm beofre he can leave, your eyes looking up to meet his baffled ones.

“Don’t go,” you stammer. “Please, don’t go to her.”

The anger solidifying Jongin’s eyes simmers into a low flame of affection, as he turns away from the door, hand ruffling your hair playfully.

“Jongin, stay with me tonight,” you plead.

Jongin smiles, quickly peeling the coat off his body and leading you to the couch.

It's about an hour later that you’re sitting on the couch with takeout splayed on the coffee table before you, a movie you’ve been wanting to watch humming lowly on the television.

It's unlike you, but you find yourself inclining towards Jongin’s shoulder. Your head rests against him, and Jongin does something unlike himself too. He doesn't tease you like he usually does. Instead, Jongin’s arm wraps around you, his fingers running along your arms.

That's when you realize-

Jongin has already broken down your walls.

~~

Note: Sehun's role in this story is a lot bigger than I originally intended for it to be, so I hope you're looking forward to all the action!