It’s been a month since you last spoke to Hoseok. After the weekend of Namjoon’s party, you went ghost. You sat at the front of the class and left immediately when the bell rang. You avoided the cafeteria for the most part, opting to eat wherever Hoseok didn’t. You took the long way home and stayed in on weekends. Every time you made eye contact, or came within five feet of Hoseok, you ran.

The first week was the hardest. Wherever you went, he would go too. You didn’t want to hear what you already knew. It was bad enough hearing about his interest in your classmate. You didn’t need any more clarification. You didn’t need to be rejected twice.

By the second week, you took extra care in avoiding him. You walked exceptionally slow in hallways to check the surrounding area and practically sprinted, leaving the school building.

The third week went by quickly. The loneliness began to settle in, but you did whatever you could to keep your mind off of it. Loneliness was better than heartache. You hated the way you were acting, but it felt like the only thing you could do was cut off all contact with Hoseok.

Your only saving grace from total isolation was Seokjin.

“It’s been like three weeks, you can’t keep running away from him forever,” Jin said to you one night, standing over your bed.

“As long as I still have legs, no chance,” you protest, as you hide under your covers. “I’m not having this conversation.”

“Everyone’s been wondering where you’ve been,” he continues, rolling you out of your blanket cocoon. 

“Let them.”

Seokjin huffs at your stubbornness. Despite anything he had to say, you would remain static. There was less than a month until summer vacation and that was all the time you needed to get over Hoseok. Your only issue was waiting for the time to arrive. Summer vacation meant two months to do whatever you could to get over Hoseok.

That’s what summer vacation was supposed to be, at least, until one fateful night, days before school ended.

“Where’s Jin?” you ask with a practically shaky voice, legs pulled close to your body as you sat on the grass. You felt a sense of déjà vu that you desperately wanted to shake off.

“Not here,” Hoseok answers apprehensively, looking at the ground.

“Oh I see,” you mutter, immediately standing up. You weren’t stupid; you knew what was happening. You thought it’d be easier seeing him after all that time, but it wasn’t. If anything, it hurt more. It made you wonder if all your efforts were futile. Your heart was wavering again.

Hoseok scrambles to hold you back, willing you to look at him. “No wait,” he pleads, retracting his hand from your arm. “Give me five minutes. No, I lied, ten. I just need ten minutes of your time. Please.”

Your brain was screaming at you to walk away, or to better yet, run, but none of that mattered if your feet were planted to the ground. “Okay,” you whisper. Hoseok gives you a tiny, appreciative smile; something that still makes your heart flutter, you notice.

“I’m sorry I thought I was being obvious about how I felt about you for the longest time,” he apologizes, clutching the back of his neck. “I guess not, huh? Here’s me being as clear as I can be then.”

Taken aback is an understatement of how you feel. Your voice is stuck in your throat, every word ready to spill out just on the tip of your tongue. You couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

“I like you. I’ve always liked you. And at this moment, I really, really like you and I hope you still mean the words you said that night at the party.”

“You mean when I told you it felt like my heart was breaking just looking at you?”

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head, taking your hands into his. “When you told me if you look someone in the eyes for three minutes, you’ll fall in love.”

It feels like your heart is about to explode, when he locks his eyes on yours and starts counting from one. There’s a certain glint in his eye that speaks volumes, but you can’t seem to understand with the sound of your heartbeat drowning everything out.

By sixty seconds, you’re sure your cheeks are on fire and that your hands have become clammy, but Hoseok never breaks his gaze or releases your hands. If anything, you swear his grip tightens. You want to look away but you’re frozen in place and lost in his everything.

By a hundred and twenty, Hoseok steps closer, intertwining your fingers with his. His voice is low and smooth and music to your ears. As if that wasn’t enough, you’re drowning in the scent of his cologne and his very existence itself.

“179… 180,” Hoseok whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you love me again?”

It doesn’t take you another three minutes to kiss him.

“I don’t think I stopped.”