Prompt: I teach in this classroom in the mornings and you teach in the evenings and we communicate entirely through notes left on the board AU

Might get kinda confusing so to help you out:

After every ∞ : change of POV

"Words like this" (with quotes) means: whiteboard messages

Word Count: 5318

∞

He rubbed his eyes, grabbing the coffee that appeared in front of him when he stopped. With a small thanks, he left the cafeteria and trudged to the lecture hall. He had been marking essays till late last night, and having to teach in the morning classes were the worst. He took a gulp of his coffee, setting it furthest away from his papers in case he was careless, before stepping up onto the platform.

“May I have your attention please.” He rapped the pen against the podium, the hushed whispers quieting down to a silence. He started with returning the marked essays, praising a few that did exceptionally well, before starting his lecture. A few minutes later, he turned to the whiteboard to write down an important point, only to sigh at the mess. It has been a while since it started, he would always come into this lecture theatre every day, to see scribbles all over the whiteboard. He quickly erased the words, returning to his lecture.

“Please erase the board after you are done with your lecture. Others need to use it as well.” He wrote on the side of the board after his lesson, it was time this person understood some basic manners.

∞

He stepped into the lecture hall, pausing at the words written in neat handwriting. He raised an eyebrow, not bothering to erase it away as he placed his materials onto the table. As he started his lecture, scribbles started to appear all over the board.

“Hyung!” He smiled as his fellow colleague stepped into the lecture after he had dismissed his students. “What’s this?” The other lecturer asked.

He paused from arranging his documents, glancing over to where his friend was standing and pointing at the message on the side of the board, shrugging in response. “Must be the lecturer who teaches in the morning.”

“Aren’t you going to erase the board?”

“No.” He grinned. “Let’s have some fun.” Stuffing everything into his bag, he walked over to the board, picking up a marker. His colleague shook his head, snorting at the childishness of his action.

∞

He stopped abruptly, eyes narrowing at the whiteboard. A huge, fat NO was written underneath the note he had left behind yesterday. Messy handwriting littered the entire board, and he clenched his fists. He couldn’t believe how childish it was, and how he was getting angry over such an act. He forced himself to take deep breaths, but it had already affected his mood and his students had to bear the wrath of his redirected anger.

In his own childish ways, he opted not to use the whiteboard today, and showed notes through the visualizer instead. Before he left, he scribbled another note right below the other’s reply, leaving the board in its original state. He smiled smugly, two can play at this game.

∞

He let out a huff of amusement, as he stared at his own notes from the night before. There was a reply, written in the same neat handwriting as the first message.

“Here’s a taste of your own medicine.” He erased the board, but left the messages there. He still needed the board for his lecture, preferring to scribble on the wide surface whenever a thought came to his mind and needed to expand on it.

He continued with his lecture, the whiteboard soon turned into a mess by his random thoughts and inputs from his students. After he ended his lecture, he had almost left before he remembered the note. After staring at it for some time, he picked up the marker, writing a reply. Grinning, he locked the door, whiteboard left uncleaned yet again.

∞

He pursed his lips, willing himself not to shout curses at the person who was hell-bent on making his life difficult.

“I’d like to see how many lessons it takes for you to not erase the whiteboard.”

“ing .” He cursed under his breath, gritting his teeth.

“Ssaem, shall I erase the board?” Thank the heavens he had nice students.

“Yes, please. Thank you, Jieun.”

“Should I erase that as well?” His student pointed at the messages on the board.

“Yes, everything please.” He said without hesitation. There was no way he could allow someone like that to get under his skin, he would be the better person and let it go.

∞

He had been wondering what the reply would be this time, but was slightly surprised at the lack of it. The whiteboard was sparkling clean, without a trace of the (somewhat) conversation they had for the past two days.

“No message today?” His fellow teacher asked, amused smile on his face as he shook his head. “Maybe you should write something.”

He stared at his messy handwriting, remembering the neat words of the morning teacher’s. He grinned at his new message, the other lecturer shaking his head at his antics.

∞

“Giving up so soon?” He groaned, he didn’t think there was any reason for the other to say anything, the same student had offered to erase everything after he was done with his lecture yesterday. Not only was there a new message, the whiteboard was, as usual, filled with scribbles.

“Jieun, please, if you don’t mind.” The student smiled and nodded, stepping up to the board to erase everything.

“That too, ssaem?” She pointed at the new message.

“Just… Leave that there.” He had no idea why he wanted to leave the message there, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt, for now. He would figure whether to reply or not after his lecture.

By the end of the lecture, he already had a response in his mind. He had also decided to leave his writings there, more determined to play this game to the end.

∞

He snorted the moment he stepped into the classroom, spotting the new message and an uncleaned whiteboard.

“I didn’t give up, I have nice students who offered to help me. I doubt yours would, seeing as to how inconsiderate you are.”

His friend walked in after his lesson, took one glance at the message, and laughed loudly. “That’s the first time someone has ever called you inconsiderate.”

“Thanks for the reminder, friend.” He said sarcastically, the other laughing again.

“You should really erase the whiteboard.”

“Nah, this is fun.” He scribbled his response right below.

∞

He closed his eyes, in a sharp breath as he tried not to get angry. He couldn’t let it get to him, he was supposed to be the better person.

“Jerk.” He muttered under his breath, before turning to walk to his desk. His lecture went on as normal, and he tried really hard not to think about the rude reply the night lecturer had left.

“It takes an inconsiderate person to know another.”

For some reason, he had asked his student to leave the message there instead of erasing it, even though it was offensive and almost made him lost his cool.

He couldn’t think of what to reply, and as he stared at the exchanged messages he realised his previous reply wasn’t exactly nice as well. He slowly erased the rest of the board, as he thought of what to reply. After he wrote it, he took one last look, before turning on his heel and walking out of the lecture hall.

∞

He frowned slightly as he looked at the board, before pushing the thought to the back of his head. He had a lecture to conduct, he would think about it later.

“Don’t you have anything nice to say, at all?” He hadn’t exactly been friendly, but at least he didn’t call the other an inconsiderate person. The only thing he had done was said no to cleaning the board, and teasing the other, just to have some fun. Who was this guy (or girl, but judging from the replies it didn’t seemed like one), to say that he was inconsiderate when they have never met?

“Just think of something nice. Having another friend in school won’t hurt.” His friend had told him, after he had stared at the whiteboard for 10 minutes, trying to figure out what to reply. “His handwriting is nice. For a guy, if that person is one.” The other commented, also staring at the whiteboard.

He snapped his fingers, grabbing a marker and quickly writing down his reply. His colleague snorted, before dragging him away from the lecture hall.

∞

He was surprised, to say the least. The whiteboard was entirely white, cleared of any scribbles that he had expected. Instead, at the side of the board, was one single sentence.

“Your handwriting’s nice.” He bit his lip, he has been complimented on it many times, but somehow hearing it from a total stranger made it different. But this guy, this night lecturer, didn’t seem like someone who would compliment others, seeing as to how he had refused to erase the board even after being asked politely to do so, and also not-so-subtly called him inconsiderate as well. Slowly, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the night lecturer was mocking him. He wrote back his own retort, making it as neat as possible to scorn the other back.

∞

“Wow, so that’s what I get, huh.” He huffed, erasing everything off the board, including the messages. “I compliment his handwriting and he insults mine. And I’m the inconsiderate one?”

He shook his head, why was he fretting over some guy he didn’t even know, except for the fact that he uses this lecture hall in the mornings and that his handwriting is nice (beautiful, in fact, but that wasn’t the point).

“Yours is ugly.” He scoffed as he recited the response in his head, so much for not having anything nice to say.

∞

He looked once, twice, even thrice. The board was completely white, no trace of anyone using it at all. He frowned slightly, maybe the night lecturer didn’t have a class yesterday.

But the next day, the same thing happened. The whiteboard was bare, and he was distracted the whole day, wondering about someone he hadn’t even seen before. When all his students had left, he sat in his seat, contemplating if he should write a message. He glanced at the blank whiteboard, what harm would a simple message do? If the other didn’t reply, then he wouldn’t bother anymore.

∞

“Hello?” The neat handwriting was back, it was funny how he could recognise it after only a week of seeing it.

“Yes?” He wrote below, stepping back slightly, glancing between the two handwritings. There was a drastic difference, and he quickly wiped his reply away, before picking up the marker again. He rewrote it, trying to make it look neater, leaving the lecture hall after he was satisfied.

“Who are you?” The response was there the next day, when he stepped in to conduct his night lecture, as usual. He cocked his head in confusion, what exactly was the other asking?

“The person you called inconsiderate.”

“Is that why you didn’t reply? Because I called you inconsiderate?” He was even more confused now, why was he so interested to know why he didn’t reply?

“No.” He settled for a simple answer.

“Then?”

“You don’t give up, do you?”

“Not until you answer my question.”

“Why are you so interested in the reason anyways? I am replying you now, aren’t I?”

∞

He was stumped. The night lecturer was right, why was he so interested in the reason? And, why was he exchanging messages with someone he would never meet?

“Don’t answer my question with a question.”

“I complimented your handwriting, and you insulted mine but I’m the inconsiderate one? An irony, don’t you think?” And the other was right, again. He had gotten defensive because it wasn’t like the other to give compliments when he had all but made fun of him the first few times they exchanged messages. But he had given a genuine compliment and even erased the board diligently afterwards, and he was being the inconsiderate one.

“Takes one to know one. But I apologise.” He wrote back instead of trying to defend himself.

“Apology accepted.” That’s all? He stared at the board, how was he supposed to reply to that? Should he even reply to that?

“What do you teach?”

“Philosophy.” Fancy that, but what’s with the one worded answers?

“That’s quite cool, I guess.”

“You guess? What do you teach?”

“History.” He wrote proudly, in big font.

∞

He wrinkled his nose on reflex. “History? That’s boring.”

“Like philosophy's any better.”

“Aren’t you curious why you exist? What’s the reason we think a certain way?”

“I guess.”

“There, that’s philosophy. Not so boring now, is it?” He smiled smugly.

“History’s still better.” He scoffed. Sure, if reading about things you can never change make you happy.

“If you say so.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not.”

“Why am I even talking to you like this?”

“Cause you have nothing better to do.”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t. But you don’t, either, if you’re replying me.”

“I do, but this is fun.”

∞

Fun? He had never thought of it as fun, but he had certainly started to look forward to the almost-illegible handwriting and the new message that would appear the next day. During the weekends, since there weren’t any lessons, he would constantly wonder what the reply would be, thinking of various responses, but the other always seemed to be able to surprise him with his replies. The night lecturer had also remembered to clean the board after his lessons recently, and their constant banter only made him more curious about the other over the days.

“Why?”

“You ask too many questions for a history teacher.”

“And you ask too little for a philosophy teacher.”

“That’s why it’s fun. Figuring out what you’re thinking without asking questions.”

“Have you figured it out yet?”

“You really don’t stop with the questions, do you? But no, I haven’t.” Yet again, he had no clue what to reply.

“Thank you for erasing the board.”

“Wow, am I really reading this right?” And of course, the night lecturer just had to be a jerk about his sincere thanks.

“I think I take it back.”

“I’m kidding, don’t be so uptight. No wonder you’re a history teacher.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“History is all about what happened in the past, it’s all fixed. There’s no way to change it. When you learn about history, you’re only walking down a single road, there are no other possibilities. History is uptight, inflexible and rigid. That’s what I meant. It wasn’t an insult. Not really, at least. ㅋㅋㅋ But you gave me some inspiration for my next lecture, so thank you."

His eyes darted all over the board, which was half-filled with the reply and the other half was filled with mind-maps that seemed random.

“Wow, ssaem, are you changing your teaching major?” A student stepped into the lecture hall, looking at the board in awe.

“No, Junhyung. I didn’t write this.” He picked up the duster, almost wanting to erase it all off before his student stopped him.

“Wait, ssaem! Let me take a picture, please?”

“What for?” He asked, stepping to the side as his student fished his phone out from his pocket, quickly snapping a picture of the writings, including the reply that explained history.

“Whoever this lecturer is, his students are so lucky. I can barely understand my philosophy class, but with this, it seems so much easier to grasp the concepts now. I’ll go to my seat now, thanks for letting me take a picture, ssaem!” He nodded, looking back at the whiteboard.

Deciding to leave the notes there in case any of his students wanted it -and some had, repeatedly thanking him for letting them take it down-, he conducted his class using the visualizer.

∞

“My students were all very thankful for your notes. I am too, you made me more popular than I already am. ㅋㅋㅋ” He raised an eyebrow, but smiled slightly.

“Glad to be of help. Your students are welcome to attend my lectures anytime if they need more help. As you should know, my lessons are conducted in this lecture hall every day. We start at 730pm sharp.”

“Thank you. They said they would attend your lesson tonight, hope you don’t mind the last minute notice.”

A whole group of students he had never seen before barged into the lecture hall the moment he finished reading the response. “Ah, the morning lecturer’s students, am I right?” He straightened, the whole group nodding. “Take a seat, we’ll start in 2 minutes.”

His lecture went on, and it seemed like the other lecturer’s students loved to ask questions as much as the day lecturer himself, as he kept pausing to answer their endless questions. It was a good thing, because he expanded into the explanation more than he had initially expected to, and the students thanked him profusely after the lesson was over.

“No problem, they were all very cooperative. But it seems like they’re all very secretive about you, did you tell them not to say anything?” He had tried asking about the morning lecturer, but the group of students remained tight-lipped about their favourite teacher (their words, not his).

∞

He blinked in confusion at the response, head snapping to the door as he heard it open, his students stepping in and talking excitedly.

“Ssaem! I think both you and Mr. -ah, I mean the night lecturer, are both god-sent! His lectures are so easy to understand!” One of his students gushed the moment they saw him.

He pointed to the reply. “What’s this about?”

“Oh, aren’t you two supposed to be secretive about your identity?”

“Huh?”

“We just assumed both of you are keeping your identity secret, like a mystery game! If not, why haven’t you asked for his name or met him, ssaem?”

He shrugged. “We’re not friends, it’s just… Fun, I guess?”

“Ssaem, you should totally meet him. I promise you won’t regret.” The group of students went to their seats, leaving him there staring blankly at their backs.

“No, they seem to have gotten it in their heads that we’re playing a game, trying to guess who the other is.”

“They’re not exactly wrong, though.”

“It does sound more fun than attending your philosophy lectures.”

“Or your history lessons.”

“I’ll have you know, my students enjoy my classes very much! They even said I was god-sent.”

“I’m pretty sure they said the same thing in my class, and if I remember clearly, they said both of us were god-sent.” He snorted, the night lecturer had circled the word ‘both’ in red marker.

“They are, by the way, my students.” He circled the word ‘’my’ in red. “Do your students tell you that you’re god-sent?”

“Of course!” He squinted, there were more words below, but he could barely make it out, they were written a lot smaller. “They didn’t exactly say it, but I know they’re thinking it!” He chuckled.

“Oh really? How do you know, exactly?”

“Trust me, I’m a philosopher.”

∞

“If you say so.” He laughed, the reply was what he had said about a month ago. The thought went through his head again, about a month ago. They had been exchanging messages like this for a month, a whole month. It was weird, he felt like he knew the morning lecturer for a long time, but at the same time, he didn’t know anything at all. Not his name, what he looks like, how old he was.

“Don’t make fun of me.” He grinned, throwing back the same reply the morning lecturer had given.

“I am.”

“I’m hurt.”

“I’m kidding, don’t be so uptight. No wonder you’re a philosophy teacher.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Philosophy is… Aish, I don’t know. You’re the philosophy teacher, not me.” His laughter bounced off the walls, the door opening and his friend walking in, staring at him like he was insane.

“Are you seriously flirting with someone, over messages on a whiteboard that you’ve never met? For all you know, he might be an old man. He teaches history, after all.” His friend clicked his tongue, after reading through the conversation.

“He’s flirting back. I’m pretty sure he’s not an old man. He sounds like he’s around my age.”

“How sure are you?”

“Trust me, I’m a philosopher.” He grinned, the other male rolling his eyes at him.

“You should find out who he is, regardless.”

“I’m curious too, but that’s what makes it fun, isn’t it?”

“No, you just have a screw loose, Mr. Philosopher.” He chuckled, tapping his marker against the board as he gathered his thoughts.

“Go home first, I’ll be here till late.”

“Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re doing that again, hyung.”

He shrugged. “I’ll just see where it takes me.”

“Everywhere, hyung. It takes you everywhere.” The other lecturer shook his head, knowing he couldn’t persuade him otherwise, before waving goodbye and leaving him to his thoughts.

∞

He halted completely, jaw dropping and almost dropping his document bag in shock. At the top left hand corner of the board, were the words ‘Philosophy is…’ in blue, and he could pick out a few main points which were written in red. Mind, existence, reasoning, knowledge, values. The rest of the board were filled with black words, so much that there was barely any white space left. He continued staring even when the door opened and a few gasps could be heard.

“Ssaem, this is perfect! We have an assignment on this, please let us take a photo!” He blinked, before he whirled around, arms stretching out to block the whiteboard.

“Do your own research! This is cheating!” He chided.

“Ssaem!” He shook his head firmly, his students groaning in response.

“If anyone dares to even sneak a photo or take down notes on this, I’ll lower your grade!” He threatened, and his students nodded solemnly, muttering a reluctant agreement.

“Are you insane? How am I supposed to conduct my lesson when you have your scribbles all over the whiteboard, and my students are distracted the whole lesson because they’re trying to memorise what you wrote and use it for their assignment!” He stuck a post it on the wall beside the spot they usually used to write their replies, his students had even drew a border for their conversation, and no one was allowed to write in it. But the night lecturer had filled up even that part of the board.

“Why? Just let them take a photo and then erase it?” The reply came in a similar post it, pasted right below his.

“Take a photo? They’re supposed to research on their assignment on their own! And you must have put a lot of effort into it, I couldn’t bear-” He crumpled the post-it, rewriting a new one but leaving out the last sentence. “Didn’t it take you a lot of time to write all these?” He wrote instead.

“That’s barely a quarter of what they have to write about. Let them take notes, it’ll give them a good head start. Don’t worry, I have a master copy of it, it’s a lot more than what I could fit on the board.” He glanced at the whiteboard, and back at the response. Exactly how much did the other write? He quickly took out his phone and snapped a photo of the insane mess, hurriedly putting his phone away as the door opened and his students started walking in.

“You can take photos, the philosophy lecturer gave his permission.” He told his students, much to their delight. He gave them five minutes to take a photo of the board before starting on his lesson.

∞

“Please don’t do that anymore, even though my students were very grateful.” The whiteboard was void of black words, and the corner that was for their conversations had a single post-it stuck there.

“Why not? Thinking is good.” He placed his own, even though he didn’t know why they had switched to post-its.

“Not when I’m trying to teach history and the board was filled with philosophy.” Both post-its from the day before were gone, and a new one was in its place.

“You could have erased it.”

“I couldn’t bear to.” He raised his eyebrow.

“Why not?”

“It looked like you put in a lot of effort into it, I couldn’t erase it not knowing if you had a copy of it.” He had an amused smile on his face as he read the note.

“Are you worried about me?”

“Aish, forget I said anything.” He chuckled, teasing the morning lecturer was too easy.

“Don’t worry, I have a copy of it.”

“Are we friends?” He blinked in surprise, he hadn’t expected that question.

“I guess? The funny thing is that we don’t even know each other’s names or how the other looks like.”

“Yeah, but you’re right, it is fun.”

“Glad to know I’m entertaining.”

“My students are insisting that I meet you. Shall we?” He paused, did the morning lecturer want to meet him, or was it just because his students had insisted?

“Do you want to?” It was probably a bad timing to end the week, because he had to wait two whole days before he could get a reply.

“I don’t know.” He bit his lip, this doesn’t sound too positive.

“Only if you want to.” He had grown more and more curious each day, and after months of exchanging notes in the lecture hall like this, he wanted to know exactly who was the person behind this neat and beautiful handwriting. But he didn’t want to meet the morning lecturer if it was only because his students said so.

“You’re a guy, right? My students let it slipped that they called you Mr., but they stopped themselves before your surname came out.” He chuckled slightly at the question.

“Yes, are you? My colleague seems to be convinced that you’re an old man, considering you teach history (his words, not mine).”

∞

He scoffed at the post-it, peeling it from the board before writing his response on a new post-it. “I am NOT an old man! What’s up with all these stereotypes? And yes, I am a guy.”

“Let me know when you’re free and comfortable with meeting. In the meantime, this is still fun.”

“I will. Are we really going to continue keeping our identities a secret?”

“Yes, it makes everything more exciting. Unless you’re really an old man.”

He scowled, pen flying across the paper. “I told you, I am not an old man!”

“Alright, but for all you know, I could be an old man.” He hadn’t thought about that, at all.

“Are you?”

“No. Trust me, I’m a philosopher.”

“I’m not sure how that is supposed to make me more convinced.”

“You’ll see.” He knew they would definitely meet sooner or later, but for now, the light banter between them was comfortable, weirdly enough. He hadn’t expected this at all, but it had just kept going without him realising. It baffled him how at ease he felt talking to a mere stranger, and it seemed like the other felt the same. Or at least, he hoped the night lecturer did share similar thoughts.

∞

“My students are praising you again. You’re stealing my popularity.” He chuckled slightly.

“Is that so? Because they seem to go on and on about their favourite history teacher in my class.” The other lecturer’s students had started to constantly turn up for his night classes, saying that he was a lot better than their original philosophy lecturer, and he let them, trying to get some information from them about the morning lecturer. All they had ever talked about was how he was good at what he does, and he had this sort of aura that commanded respect to him. That only made him even more curious of how the history teacher looked like.

“Oh god, this is so embarrassing. They’re trying to set us up.” He cocked an eyebrow, really? They must be around the same age then.

“Now you can confirm that I’m not an old man.”

“I’m sorry, they must have misunderstood something. I’ve told them off already.” He frowned.

“What for?”

“For assuming you’re interested.”

“Interested? In what?”

“Well, this is awkward, even if we’re not talking face to face. Interested in…Men?” He laughed, he couldn’t believe he was answering such a question through a post-it.

“What makes you assume I’m not?”

“You are?”

“I got to say your students are quite intuitive. Some of them should write about intuition in their essays.”

“I still apologise for their lack of manners, regardless.”

“Don’t fret over it, you must not be giving them enough homework for them to have the time to observe me.”

“My sentiments exactly. I’ve doubled their workload.”

“Harsh huh?”

“I was joking. But I should definitely add in an additional essay.”

“I’m sure that’s not necessary. They’ve apologised, and I’ve seen some of their draft essays. They seem to be on the right track, some of them even used us as an example.”

∞

He groaned, that didn’t sound like a good thing at all. “Sometimes, I feel like they’re going to kill me with how embarrassing they are.”

“I think it’s cute.” Cute? What exactly did his students write in their philosophy essay?

“Say, what do you think about having coffee together?” He hadn’t thought it over at all, but it felt like the right time to ask.

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s been some time since we’ve started talking, hasn’t it?” In fact, it has been almost 4 months since he wrote the very first message on the whiteboard.

“It has, I’ve gotten used to it that the thought of not doing it seems weird.” He felt exactly the same way, and he didn’t know why he was relieved that the night lecturer shared his sentiments.

“How about next week? Tuesday? Classes end at noon for me, how about we meet at 4 for tea break, before your classes?”

“Sounds great, where do you want to grab coffee?”

“The small cafe down the street from the school?”

“I’ll see you there.” He didn’t bother replying, it was today after all. He would finally see the mysterious man behind the philosophical thoughts, messy handwriting, and teasing words that he had got to know of through the messages. He tried to imagine what the night lecturer would look like, but nothing came to mind. His students refused to give him a clue, insisting that he met the other himself.

The door opened, and he looked up, thinking it was a student that had left something behind. Instead, a male that looked around his age stepped in. He cocked his head slightly, body still slightly hunched over the table with his documents in his hand. He didn’t know the school had such a handsome and hot teacher, he recognised the staff pass that was hanging around the attractive male’s neck.

“Hi.” The male grinned, and he could feel the heat rushing up to his cheeks.

“U-uh… Hi? Can I help you?” He tried to maintain a straight face, hoping the male didn’t notice his blush.

But it was futile, because the next words that he heard made him blush even more, looking like a ripe tomato.

“Your face is as beautiful as your handwriting.” The male grinned even wider, bright eyes sparkling in amusement. He blinked, still in shock as his mind processed what the male was implying.

A small smile graced his face when he finally realised. Maybe, just maybe, he would like philosophy after all.

∞

A/N: I'm late but here's a chapter for Kim Sunggyu! Happy (belated) birthday to our fave hamster ^^ Obviously one of the characters is Sunggyu, just guess which one and who is the other! 

I'm going on a holiday for a few days so I'll update again when I come back. Hope you enjoyed this short(er) oneshot, I'll be back!