The next day, you leave school, still thinking about the call with Bambam. After you told him that your parents allowed the trip to Thailand, he suggested buying tickets soon.

Tickets.

It would mean that a distant possibility would become real. Could become reality. And the mere thought made you anxious. Filled you with anxiety, filled you to the brim with feelings that you didn't want to feel, yet were clearly present.

On another note, though, the buzz surrounding you and Bambam at school, the news that spread like wildfire once, had now been reduced to a rare, occasional whisper when you entered a room. Going to school now, that you weren't the hot topic anymore, just yesterday's news, was relaxing. Relieving in a way. You didn't handle stares well. Didn't like all the unwarranted attention.

Stepping out the gate and leaving your school behind, you shoulder your backpack, ready to go to the library. That's when you realize something. Right. Your sister is probably there. Your sister and Mark.

The gears in your head turn. Slowly as if they don't want to process these facts. A new reality. A reality that reigns now, whether you are ready to embrace it or not.

You look down at your feet, clad in your old, beaten down sneakers. Then you shrug and head the other way instead. Jackson... Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Mark doesn't like you. Doesn't like you anymore, because he seems to be doing well with your sister now.

Isn't he?

You shake your head and look at your watch. It's still early, you notice, staring at the small numbers. A mental image creeps up in your head, an idea. Maybe you could go to Bambam's campus and surprise him?

You stand still for a second.

Thinking about it, it's not a bad idea. You would be proactive again. Approaching him first.

A smile appears on you face at the thought. Is it pride? Enthusiasm? You don't know. Yet you start walking. Walking with all your might and long strides. It doesn't take you that long until you get there. The streets peter out into parking lots, grey tarmac turns to cobblestone. You have arrived.

The campus is noticeably empty, you remark. As you look around, you can't help the gasp escaping your mouth though.

Once again, the modern buildings have you left in awe. It's a beautiful campus, one that you would have dreamed of attending when you were younger. When you were younger and only looked at the exterior, not the inner workings. You probably would have fallen in love just with the architectural style, not even bothering to look up courses, lectures, professors.

As you ponder over that thought, you sit down on a bench. When you're perched down on the wood, you get out your phone to text Bambam. You write him a short message, asking whether he's busy.

The reply comes soon. 'Sorry', Bambam answers. 'I have a lecture right now. Do you want to hang out after that?'

Well, so much for a surprise. You quickly text him back, reprimanding him for texting during a lecture, then you put your phone into the pocket of your skirt.

Feeling a bit silly for not thinking of something like that, you stand up. Straightening up, you look at your watch again. Maybe it's a sign that you should get home instead.

As you wander around, looking at the premises, you walk into someone. Not literally, you're not bumping into one another. No impact sending you flying across to the floor. But it's something else that knocks the wind out of your lunges. It's who the person is. Because it is someone you didn't expect to see again. Someone you weren't sure you wanted to see again.

Yugyeom.

Yugyeom who is staring down at you. Yugyeom who always makes you feel awkward and nervous. Just like now. You fiddle with your sleeve and then glance at him from under your lashes. He's wearing sweatpants and trainers. Workout attire. No, you quickly correct yourself. Clothes that he would wear while dancing.

“You're gonna come?” Yugyeom's voice cuts through your thoughts like a sharp knife. You flinch at the sound. His words are not as much an invitation as they are a simple question. Yes or no. Exactly the type of answer you never feel comfortable giving.

You hesitate feeling more awkward than ever. After all that's happened and all the misunderstandings. You hear Yugyeom clicking his tongue and look up to see him glancing at his watch.

“It starts in fifteen minutes.”

“I...” You stare down at your skirt, still trying to weasel your way out of it. Is it because you're still uncomfortable with Yugyeom? With the thought of being in the same room as him? You don't know. “My clothes-...”, you stutter, unable to come up with anything else.

Yugyeom rolls his eyes at that. A non word response. “This way,” he then says, turning left. His voice is gruff. You just follow him silently.

*

“Shirt. Sweatpants.” Yugyeom narrows his eyes at you, but this time he isn't scowling. The brown of his eyes is so deep you notice and indecipherable. Are the emotions you cannot read? Words he won't say? Or is it just you imagination that makes you see things that aren't there? “They are too small for me, so they should fit you.”

You have to suppress a disbelieving frown at that. Yugyeom is gigantic, towering over you and almost everyone else. Maybe clothes from when he was a twelve year old would fit you, but right now, his height and stature was miles away from yours.

“Ok,” you mutter, taking the clothes into your hands. Then you go to the small bathroom. You close the door and then start undoing the buttons, one by one. It's cold, so cold that goosebumps start forming on your skin and you shiver.

Unsurprisingly, you look funny after putting his clothes on, swimming in the fabric. You look into the mirror, staring at your face. Your eyebrows are drawn together and your lips are chapped.

Letting out a sigh, you roll up the pants and then put your own clothes into your backpack. You take a deep breath and the smell of laundry detergent and male cologne wafts into your nose. Then it hits you. What are you doing here? With him? Yugyeom. Yugyeom and you. Have you gone crazy? For a second, you actually want to take off his clothes and put your own back on.

Then you shake your head. That would be even more ridiculous. The best defense is a good offense. Isn't that right?

Opening the door, you see Yugyeom leaning against the desk. His dark eyes find yours immediately as if connected by an invisible string. Your heart flutters nervously and you bite your lip. You're nervous. Nervous like you've never been before, standing in Yugyeom's room with his clothes that are still way too big.

He straightens up and clicks his tongue. “Come here,” he orders with a firm voice. You shiver again. But this time it isn't because of the cold. Slowly, you step closer to Yugyeom, swallowing lightly as you are only a meter apart. The tiny piece of metal gracing his ear lobe, the cold light in his eyes that makes you freeze. You can see everything.

But that means that Yugyeom, too, can see everything in your eyes. Your hesitation. Your nervousness. And everything else, too.

At that thought, you stop. Your feet stay glued to the ground and then it's his turn. Yugyeom steps closer, closer into your comfort zone. But it's not that you feel uncomfortable. His hand reaches out, slowly. He's testing you. Testing himself, you think, until his fingers reach your shirt. His shirt.

With a softness that you've never seen in him before, he pulls it down softly, straightening out a wrinkle with his thumb. Your cheeks start feeling hot and the words escape you before you even think about it. “Do you do this with all of Bambam's girlfriends?”

Yugyeom jerks back immediately, breaking the spell. Avoiding your eyes, he grabs his bag and then hurries to the door with fast strides.

You place the back of your hands on your cheeks, feeling the warmth. As you stare at Yugyeom's back, you know why you said those words. You had to stop. Stop him. But more importantly, you had to stop yourself from feeling that way. Feeling so nervous around him. Because it wasn't fair. And it wasn't good.

You press your eyes shut for a minute and then you hurry after him.

**

When you get into position, the girl next to you giggles. You look at her and raise your eyebrow softly, questioningly.

“It's pretty obvious,” she says, nodding at Yugyeom and then pointing at your wide clothes.

“What?”, you ask, feigning ignorance. You pretend not to know what she's getting at.

“You're just putting up a show, right? Because you don't want us to think that Yugyeom is biased towards his girlfriend.”

Your cheeks flame up and the girl chuckles. “We're not-”, you quickly correct her. “We're not... dating.”

“Sure,” she says, drawing out the vowel and rolling her eyes. Then she, too, gets into position as the first beats of the song sound in the studio.

The more you dance, the easier it gets. You become more fluid as your body remembers the steps and your brain shuts off.

It goes on and on and continues like that until the last line of the song sounds through the room for one last time. After that, slowly but steadily, the other students trickle outside. You find you gaze being drawn towards Yugyeom, who is putting away his things, his eyes not meeting yours.

The room gets empty with just the two of you left inside, the biting silence way too loud for you, too overwhelming.

“I'll give you the clothes back,” you quickly say. Promise. A promise to see him again. To come here again.

“You're here next time?”, he asks, his voice resounding in the room, almost like an echo. He sounds hoarse, somewhat, making you feel bad for talking to him. But it's funny, you think. For the first time, he's not giving you a command, not ordering you around with a one-worded sentence. And what's even funnier, is that despite all that has happened or maybe because everything that has happened, you're almost certain that you can hear the slightest, tiniest, most microscopical hint of something that reminds you of hope.

And that only makes you stare at him with wide eyes, a affirmative whisper escaping your lips.

“Yes."

A/N: Half of a chapter that I had promised long ago. I apologize for the long delay and I hope you enjoy reading this.