My first week of evaluations have arrived. My students have been preparing for four weeks, and I am so proud of all of them. I could see the improvements they have made in such a short amount of time. No one deserved anything lower than a passing grade.

I had been putting out the word to my students for the first meetings of the drama and dance club. Drama club is on Thursday afternoons and Dance club is on Friday afternoons.

On Thursday, the first meeting brought out thirty students. I was overwhelmed with joy at the excitement to participate. We established a President, Vice-President, and Treasurer for the club.

Then we built a schedule for the fall semester. We agreed that we wanted to put on a Christmas play, but in order to do so we would need to do smaller events to raise money. So, we settled on a Halloween scare night in the PA building, where the club would dress up for the school and do haunted houses and such. The students pretty much took over once we came up with the idea, they almost didn't need me at all!

For the dance club, fifteen students showed up. More than I was anticipating. We agreed on which competitions we were going to enter. One contemporary competition in a month. And two freestyle competitions in November. We also decided to pair up with the drama club for the Halloween event. The dance club would be performing routines that day as well.

I really felt like I was starting to get involved as a professor. My students wanted to come to class, and they valued what I had to say. I ended my Friday after the dance club finished. I packed my bag and headed to the faculty parking lot. In the distance I see someone balancing boxes as they move through the campus.

I run over, "Do you need any help?" I ask, and the person peeks around the boxes, "Oh, Yoongi Hyung!" I say shocked. "Let me take those boxes for you," I reach for the two on top that were precarious.

He breathed out a small laugh, "Professor Jung, thank you," he dipped his head in appreciation. "They aren't heavy at all, but they were getting difficult to hold," he smiled.

"Where is your car?" I ask looking around the parking lot. He bit the corner of his lip slightly.

"Well, I take the bus," he said quietly. I blink in surprise.

"You were going to take the bus with all of these!" I say shocked, then I shake my head, "No way, I will drive you home, come on," I move my head in the direction of my car and start walking that way.

He catches up to me, "Really, it's no big deal, I take the bus every day!" He sputters out and I just ignore him. We get to my car, and I open the trunk and place the boxes inside. When he doesn't put the ones in his hands in, I take them and place them in there and close the door.

He sighs in defeat and gets into the passenger seat. Once the car is warmed up, I hand him my phone to plug in the directions. He really did only live a few blocks away from me!

It is silent for a while before he speaks up, "Thank you, really," his voice sounds sincere. I smile back at him.

"No problem!" I gesture to the back, "So what is in the boxes?" I wonder.

He stretches out his legs a little and relaxes into the seat, "My students projects for their evaluations. They needed to put together a mock curated display for a fictional museum," he nodded his head, "It is a very involved project, so my students will fill up a binder for just one assignment," he says.

I raise my eyebrows, "There are binders in there!" I say shocked. "Ohh, Professor Min, you are quite strict," I tease, "No?" I look over at him and our eyes lock for a moment. He is the first to look away and grins.

We drive the rest of the way talking about small things, like our students, classes, and evaluations. Before we know it, I bumble up to the front of his apartment. It is above a laundry servicing business. I turn off the car and unbuckle my seatbelt and he looks at me concerned.

"You don't have to help me," he says quickly. I wave my hands at that nonsense and get out.

He hurries around the back and tries to grab the boxes before I can, "Hmm, you are acting suspicious Sunbae, what are you trying to hide," I smile at him, and he scratches the back of his head. I stop smiling and clear my throat, "I only want to help, but I won't overstep any boundaries," I assure him.

He sighs and for a moment it looks like he is thinking, "Are you hungry?" He asks, and I nod, "I will buy you dinner," he offers, "I will just put these upstairs and be right back, okay?" He raises his eyebrows and I agree.

He takes all the boxes at once. I watch as the huge stack sways up the stairs and disappears inside. I get back in the car and wait. It's not long before he is back outside and motions for me to roll down the window and I do. He leans through the window with a small grin.

"We won't have to drive," he says and points across from me, I turn my head and see a bar literally across the street. I smile and hop out. "I come here all the time when I don't feel like cooking, which is often," he laughs.

We sit in the back corner and the owner comes to the back with a notepad. "Hi Professor, want your usual?" She asks. She is an older woman wearing all black and a hairnet.

He shakes his head no, "Let's do a family size hot pot with three servings of meat, and a pan of kimchi fried rice," he says. My mouth starts watering at the thought of this meal.

She writes it down and disappears out the back. I smile at him, "What is the usual for you?" I wonder. He laughs.

"A huge bowl of ramen," he says. He uses his hands to show how big the bowl actually is, "With a side of spicy rice cakes," he crosses his arms and leans them against the table.

I couldn't help but laugh, "Hyung you eat like a college student," he looks down and breathes out a small laugh, "I'll cook you a proper meal don't worry," I say casually just as the owner comes back with water and side dishes.

He grabs the empty cup closes to him and quickly pours himself some water. I couldn't even do it for him, I wasn't fast enough. He starts to gulp down the water, and I look at him confused, but just then the food comes out.

She sets down the boiling hot pot and the plate of meat and the pan of fried rice. I thank her and grab my chopsticks. I start dumping some of the meat in the pot to get it cooking.

Yoongi clears his throat, "So I hear the meeting with the Dean went well," he says normally. "You are getting some gossip from the faculty though," he teases.

I look over at him, "Really?" And he nods while reaching his chopsticks into the pot and pulling out the cooked pieces of meat.

"You have no idea how hard it is to ask the Dean for funding," he says piling the meat onto a small plate, "People are going to be jealous, but just focus on your students and do your best," he says simply, and places the plate of meat in front of me to eat.

I look down at the plate and back at Yoongi. He wasn't even looking at me, he just carried on dumping more meat into the pot to cook. He is effortlessly cool. I smile at his kind words and grab a piece of meat and blow on it before eating it.

It was so juicy and delicious, mmmm. I take another piece and put it on his plate. He takes it and eats it quickly, probably burning his mouth. We talk about what the rest of the semester is going to look like for us, and I tell him about the Halloween event my clubs are doing.

A whole hot pot and a pan of rice later, we leave with our stomachs full. He paid for dinner with his card, and we walk out into the night. I get to my car door and unlock it. Once I'm in, I roll down the window, "Thank you for dinner," I yawn slightly. I am feeling tired now that I am full.

He laughs and rests his hand on the hood and leans down slightly. I freeze as he moves in, "Professor Jung," he says coolly, I blink up at him, "Thank you for helping me today," he brushes his hair back off of his forehead, "You are truly a kind person," he smirks.

I nod slowly, not knowing what to say. He pushes his hand off the hood and waves goodbye. He puts his hands in his pockets and strolls back into his apartment.

I get back home and take a shower. My mind is buzzing. For some reason I cannot stop thinking about Yoongi. It's late now, almost 11:00pm. I pick up my phone and see a few messages from my sister, but other than that its dry. I get in bed and lay down on my back.

I bite the corner of my lip and think for a moment. I open up the chat from a few weeks ago with Yoongi. I hover over the typing button. I slowly start to type.

Would you like a proper meal? Sunday?

I hit send and then let my phone slip out of my hands and flop against my chest. I breathe out hard, why am I acting like this? I rub my eyes and then I put my hands behind my head and stare at the ceiling.

I feel my phone buzz against my chest. I quickly pick it up.

Oh hoh, Professor Jung.

A proper meal sounds good.

I smile. I let the phone fall back against my chest. What should I make?