The sudden sound of my gigantic biology book slamming shut snaps me out of my daydream. My eyes dart from the ultraviolet cover of the hardbound, up to Noona’s stoic face. My breath hitches in my throat.

“Se Hun, let’s get some bubble tea,” she says, laying down her favorite pink highlighter. In a few seconds, she’s already up and staring down at me, waiting for me to stand. I blink up at her, guilt instantly eating at my conscious.

 “I’m sorry, Noona,” I mumble.

“What’s with that, Se Hun? You don’t want to get bubble tea?” she asks, her inquisitive eyebrow already up and intimidating. Noona crosses her arms, and immediately, I know that she’s pissed off at what I did—or, what I did not do, rather.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention,” I say, afraid to look her in the eyes. My tongue went to my permanently chapped lips, all the nervousness away.

I feel so stupid, doing that to her, of all people.

I’m so stupid, I mentally scold myself. How could I do that to her, of all people?

Noona sacrificed a lot of the things she had to just so she could insert me into her schedule. And now, here I am, apologizing for wasting her precious time.

I’m so stupid.

I my lips again.

“It looks like you have a lot on your mind, Se Hun,” she says, sitting back down in order to face me. Still afraid, I focus my gaze on the desk.

Noona gives my shoulder an encouraging pat, and then her hands travel to my hair. She pats it as well, and it’s comforting. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Something is obviously bothering you, and it’s mere coincidence that it’s bothering you now while I’m tutoring you. It’s no big deal, really,” she says.

“Come on, look at me, Se Hun.”

How can I not, after the way she says it? And so I do, and I smile because Noona is smiling at me. “But you hate bubble tea, Noona,” I point out, recalling the first time she dragged me to the bubble tea store near the dorm.

That was way back when she was still in her first year.

“Yes, I do, but you like it, and I know that’s the only way to make you feel better,” she says. “Now, come on, Se Hun, let’s get moving.”

With that, we stand up and head for the door.

Noona was wrong, though, because bubble tea wasn’t what made me feel better.

It wasn't even a "what."

It was a "who."

Author's Note:

Hello, everyone! 

This chapter was originally from my other fic, Roommates. I decided to transfer it here as it would serve as some sort of prologue/prelude to this series.