“Who doesn’t like pizza?” He asked as he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out in front of him to move his stiff muscles. You shrugged, and looked up from your book to see him sitting behind his desk. The reason why you had chosen not to sit at the desk right in front of him was because you were afraid that if someone would walk in, they would get the wrong impression of what you two were doing. Although he had confirmed there was barely a single person inside of the building during this hour of the day, you could feel the fear buzzing through your bones. There were no more students here, you were sure of that. You couldn’t think of anyone who would still be here after classes had ended two hours ago, even not those who passed their time in the library. But there was a chance there were more teachers who thought like him and who wanted to grade a few more tests before heading home. There was no way he could talk you into the fact that some of those teachers weren’t his friends and they didn’t dare to burst in during some point. “It’s not like I don’t like it, I think I just ate it too much as a child and I’m sick of it. When my parents were out and one of my baby sitters came along, they usually didn’t feel like cooking. So they ordered some take out. I guess I’m lucky that didn’t ruin my figure.” You said, rolling your pencil in between your fingers as you thought about that. Luckily you were old enough to take care of yourself, the thought you’d still have to be watched over by strangers made you feel terrible. 

Those people had never really known you. They had come over to watch over you for a few hours, took their money and then they disappeared. The big question was if they would ever return, since your parents changed your baby sitters like they changed outfits. No one was ever good enough for their daughter, but they also never put any effort in looking after you themselves. “You have a great figure.” He muttered, but his mind seemed somewhere else, as if he was thinking about something else while he said it. To be honest your anxiety to have someone sneak up on you wasn’t the only reason why you had decided to create some distance between the two of you tonight. You knew that he would distract you if you would sit too close to him. Somehow you always found something interesting in what he was doing, and watching him was more pleasant than trying to keep up with your classes. Somehow you couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had told you and you found yourself revealing more of yourself as the evening passed by. If you wanted there to remain some distance between the two of you, you had to make sure to keep your mouth shut sometimes, and that didn’t work out when he was sitting right in front of you. “My mom never ordered pizza, she wanted me to have a variable and healthy diet. I think she just wanted to make sure she did everything in her power to make sure I didn’t end up like my dad.” He suddenly said and you forgot what you had been trying to work on as you focussed all your attention on him. 

When had the two of you even crossed this line? When had you decided to be this honest with each other? A pang traveled through your chest and even though you could be quite stubborn about your food, you actually found yourself caving in. “We can order pizza, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” His eyes slipped away from the test in front of him so he could look at you. He was probably trying to figure out if you were saying this because you felt sorry for him or if you had a different motivation for giving into him this easily. But you made sure to keep your facial expressions blank, he didn’t need to know why you were agreeing with this. He sighed deeply before he dropped his pen and rubbed his hands up and down his face before brushing them through his hair. You quickly looked away, eyeing the dark sky through the window. Recently it seemed as if your body had figured out that Baekhyun was a handsome guy, because it reacted in ways you didn’t want it to. When he did those kind of things, it was as if you couldn’t stop staring at him. “What are you working on?” He asked and it seemed as if this time he was the one who couldn’t seem to concentrate. You sighed as you looked down on the book that was laying open in front of you and even though you had been staring at this one page for at least thirty minutes, it simply didn’t seem to work out. “Biology, but it’s not really my thing.” You said, wondering why you would ever need to know what the structure of a cell contained and what you would ever use it for in the future. 

“We both know what your thing is, but that’s not going to help you with any of that.” He said and you smiled at him as you realized what he was referring to. Ever since you had been able to change the attic into a small room for you and your art you had spent a lot of time there. It helped you to relax and to forget all the frustrations that had been boiled up inside of you for so long. Your parents had never allowed you to do much with your talents, because they didn’t think you could become successful with it. “Who says I don’t want to become an artist?” It was meant as a joke, because everyone knew while going to a school like this, and getting this kind of education, it was impossible for you to choose that kind of career. But he shot you a serious look as he leaned his arms on top of his desk, and you