Jiyong doesn't think himself a bad student, per say, but he wasn't a good one either. That being said though, he definitely wasn't the type who'd be able to get with the likes of someone like Taeyeon, at least, that's what he had thought. 

Taeyeon was the girl that everyone wanted. Ethereal, kind, beautiful. She glowed with an air of innocence and purity that Jiyong would never dare come close to, could never come close to. She had her own little fan club, boys and girls who had so much time on their hands that they tried to defend her from whoever would even look in her general direction. The only people exempt from their threats were Taeyeon's best friends, and there were quite a few of them. 

Jiyong had never really considered ever approaching Taeyeon, even though he shared two classes with her she seemed like such a far away dream. Like a vision more than an actual person. That doesn't mean he hasn't snuck in his fair share of looks though. It just so happened that one of the classes he had with her was one that had none of her annoying little minions in. He wasn't the only one who had noticed that though, and by the end of the first semester half the class had already struck out with asking her out, so he hadn't even bothered to try.

Today though, today was a little different.

He'd fallen asleep halfway through the lecture, again, and though usually Youngbae would be shaking him awake in time to leave, the latter was missing today as he was sick, so naturally, Jiyong had just continued to snooze long after the lecture had ended. He could've just slept through the rest of the day, but there's a small squeaking sound coming from the front of the class that has him jolting awake. He sits up quickly, attempts to adjust his eyes to the light only to find himself looking at Taeyeon, looking helpless and frightened, being held way too close to the professor for comfort. He's still a little disoriented from having just woken up, but it doesn't stop him from running up to the front and yanking her away from the man.

"Excuse me, professor, but I think now's a good time for you to take your filthy hands off your student and leave before I tell someone about it, don't you think?"

Jiyong smirks a little to himself when he sees the older man cower before he takes off running. He almost forgets that there was still another person in the room, but then Taeyeon coughs and Jiyong drops the wrist in his hand so quick it was like he was burned.

"Oh, uh, you okay?" He asks, not exactly sure what it is he's meant to say in situations like these.

Taeyeon's blushing, looking at anywhere but his eyes. It's cute. "I'm fine. Thank you for helping me just now, I- how much did you hear?"

"Nothing." He shrugs, feeling a little awkward, like he was a teenage boy in high school again talking to a pretty girl for the first time. "I fell asleep at some point during the lecture, just woke up a second ago."

Her eyes finally meet his, she seems a little apprehensive, as if she doesn't quite believe what he's saying, but then she's laughing and Jiyong's entire world melts away. He kind of expects soft, tinkling laughter, the kind that's graceful and gentle. Taeyeon's laugh is nothing like that, it's loud and bright and not graceful at all, but still the prettiest thing he's ever heard before. 

He feels the familiar sensation of fluttering in his stomach and his heartbeat going out of control. He knows he's doomed.

"You shouldn't sleep during class, Oppa."

Oppa. Holy . Jiyong's throat is suddenly dry, he can't quite think straight anymore.

"Uh," He sputters, a little lost for words. "right, I'll try not to, next time."

"You should get more sleep at night, I always see you sleeping."

His heart soars. All the times he'd been looking, had she been looking too? It didn't really make any sense. Kim Taeyeon, token angel of the campus, pretty lips and soft gazes had been looking at him, Kwon Jiyong, resident slacker and trouble maker, rough edges and cocky grins. 

None of this makes sense, not the way that Taeyeon smiles shyly at him, or the way that his palms are getting sweaty as the seconds pass, but he lets himself be in the moment, lets himself soak in the pinkness of her cheeks and the twisting in his stomach.

He expects the feelings from that day to simmer down afterwards. She wouldn't have a reason to talk to him anymore. Prim, proper, perfect Taeyeon didn't need to look in his direction anymore. But she still does, and now, now whenever he catches her eyes she shoots him the smallest of smiles, subtle but still oh so sweet. He thinks he could drown like this, in the syrupy sweet taste of her smiling at him. He's already gone, he knows this. He hopes she doesn't do more than this now, doesn't try to talk to him more or, God forbid, try to befriend him. He doesn't know if his heart could take much more. He knows that the possibility of that happening is slim though, especially when their professor walks into the classroom, looking sullen and pale, only to announce that he'd be leaving the school and quitting as their teacher. 

As soon as those words leave his lips the class dissolves into silent chatter, questions like why? And things like he was a bore anyway were circling the room, but in that moment Taeyeon had whipped her head back to face him and everything else was just drowned out. He raises his eyebrows at her, questioning the gaze, before she turns back around, scribbles something on her notebook, and turns to show it to him.

Was this you?

Jiyong can feel the curiosity radiating off of Youngbae next to him, but he chooses to ignore his friend and instead starts to write his response on his own notebook.

Was what me?

Taeyeon huffs at the response, a bit like a petulant child. It makes him laugh.

Mr. Song leaving.

Jiyong shrugs.

I may or may not have let it slip that I saw him harassing a student.

At that she gnaws on her lips, seemingly in thought, before she merely turns around again to face the front of the classroom. He frowns a bit to himself, a little sad that their little conversation was over now. He had more pressing matters to deal with though, like Youngbae pestering him with questions at his side. 

When the lecture ends, and the students are starting to file out, Jiyong's being shaken awake. He swats at the hand jostling him, before he realizes that the arm he's holding onto is a lot more thinner than he remembered. When did Youngbae have such soft skin? 

He cracks an eye open, and when he does he sees Taeyeon looking down at him, cheeks dusted a pretty pink colour again, bottom lip between her teeth. He shoots up immediately, hand releasing its grip on her arm.

"Sorry," he says, out of breath for some reason, "I thought you were Youngbae."

"It's okay, I just, I wanted to say thank you."

He stands, coughs a little awkwardly as he brushes imaginary dust off his shirt.

"You already thanked me yesterday."

"This was for today, for getting rid of him. I honestly don't know if I would've lasted the rest of the year being in the same room with him so, thank you, again." She finishes the sentence with such a bright smile this time that his breath literally gets caught in his throat. 

If he'd thought she was pretty before, she was gorgeous now, smiling at him so genuinely. 

"It's no problem, really." He's kind of blushing now too, and he really hates that she's able to bring this softer, more vulnerable side out of him so easily.

"If you need anything from me just let me know. I could give you some of the notes I've taken, since I know you probably don't have much due to how much you sleep in class. It's the least I could do to repay you."

He laughs a little, but shakes his head. "I don't really need anything, it's okay."

She nods at that, and her smile slips into something more polite. "Well, if that's all, then I'll see you tomorrow, Oppa." She's turning to leave now, and something about watching her walk away from him feels wrong, so he darts out a hand to wrap around her wrist before she's gone.

"Oppa?" She asks, eyes a little wider.

She has to stop calling him that or else he'll have to start worrying about his sanity.

"Actually, there is something I'd like, from you."

Kwon Jiyong, don't say anything stupid. 

"What is it?"

Don't you dare say-

"A date."

His stomach drops as soon as the words leave his lips, as if they'd slipped out without him intending them too. Taeyeon looks shocked, mouth dropped part way open, before her cheeks are staining a dark red. She doesn't respond for a long time, and he's sure she's going to say no. God, what was he even thinking, saying that so suddenly? He knew he was stupid but this was just-

"Okay."

Oh.

Oh.

. 

"I- Really?"

She nods, slowly, eyes trained on her shoes. He can see though, he can see the way the corners of her lips curl up just the slightest. His chest feels like it's about to burst.

He hasn't done dates before. Not proper ones, not ones he cared this much about. He's usually sitting at a bar, there's usually a pretty girl making eyes at him from the corner of the room, and that's how he usually finds his female company. Taeyeon was a different ball game all together though. He knew he had to make this good, make this work, make sure he didn't mess up. Having a pathetic little crush on the prettiest girl in school at the age of twenty one was messing him up a little.

He'd made a reservation at a restaurant Daesung had told him about. Some place he had taken his girlfriend to once. Jiyong had never made a reservation in his entire life, it felt a bit strange that he was trying all these new things just because of some girl. But Taeyeon wasn't just some girl, he knew that, that's why he'd tried to clean himself up a little for the date. Wear something less broke-college-student-esque and something more dinner appropriate. 

He gets there an entire fifteen minutes early and sits in the booth, waiting, fidgeting. She walks in ten minutes later, wearing a fitting black dress that makes his mouth water just a little. 

The first couple of minutes is painfully, painfully awkward. Jiyong's stumbling over his words and Taeyeon's too busy blushing to even say anything, but then their food arrive and conversation just starts to flow more easily after that. He finds out a lot about her. He finds out that she's a music major, that she writes music and sings in her spare time (a picture flashes in his mind, of his head on her lap, her hand running through his hair as she's singing quietly into the silence of their shared home as he starts to drift off to sleep) and that she likes to draw. He also finds that when she laughs she throws her whole body into it, that she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear when she feels bashful, that her eyes trail down to his lips just as much as his do to hers.

By the end of the night it feels as if he'd handed over his heart for her, and in all its glory. The moment he had started talking about himself, about his music, his family, his friends, he knew he was a goner. She'd listened on with such fascination that he had just naturally ended up talking about all that he could. She'd told him so many things too, about herself, about her life. At one point he'd thought that maybe everyone else wouldn't be making such a fuss over her if they knew what she was really like, but now that he's here, learning more and more about her as time goes on, he realizes how untrue that is. That if people knew the real Taeyeon, knew her well, that they'd be just as obsessed, just as fascinated, if not more.

He wonders how he managed to luck out with someone like her. He definitely didn't deserve her, someone so clean and nice. He doesn't think about that much though, because no matter how much he'll convince himself that she can find someone better, she looks right through him, like she knows exactly what he's thinking, and then smiles. He always loses himself when she smiles.

"I had a really good time tonight."

They're at her doorstep now, Jiyong's hands are shoved into his pockets. He kind of wants to kiss her.

"Me too." He's grinning, so wide he feels as if his lips could split.

She smiles back, and there's a comfortable silence that settles between them for a moment, before she says "Good night."

He lets her go, watches as she unlocks her front door, but then she stops, frozen, and then walks back to him.

"What-"

Before he knows it, she's on her tip toes, fingers lightly holding onto his shoulders as she presses her lips to his. The kiss is nothing like he expects. She tastes like strawberry, her lipstick probably, her lips are soft. He expected fireworks, instant sparks exploding behind his eyes. There was nothing like that, just her lips against his, warmth, sweetness. His knees go a bit weak. She pulls away, eyes still closed, but he's suddenly filled with an immense hunger, so his arms wrap around her waist and he presses her to him again, mouth on hers immediately. She startles a little, but melts into his touch after a moment. He feels a bit bad, that their first turned from gentle to rough but he can't find it in himself to mind when her hands come to wrap around his neck and she sighs into the kiss. 

They pull apart only when breathing becomes an obstacle, his forehead falling against hers. 

"Sorry. I'm a greedy man."

She giggles, a little breathless still. "I'm pretty greedy myself. Want to come inside?"

His heart jumps all the way to his throat at the way she blinks up at him, the way she her lips. Maybe she wasn't all that pure, or all that innocent, maybe there were still things he had to learn about her.

", yeah."

He couldn't wait to find out.