‘Kuang!’ The sound echoed throughout the full lecture hall. Well, it wasn’t that loud but it felt that way to me because I was late and managed to sneak into class without being detected. At least that was what I thought. Panicking, I ducked my head and waited for my name to be called. But it never came. I was a bit too nervous to realize that it was just a pen falling from a table.

‘Kung,’ that was more appropriate. Then another sound, ‘seureureuk’ it went ever so slowly across the floor. I stared at the pen and then became aware of a hand that was dangling from a table to my left. It occurred to me that the floor wasn’t level. So I picked up the pen and then looked over at its owner who had fallen asleep with his head in his other arm, his brown hair disheveled but soft.

I glanced around me but no one seemed to pay him any attention as they were towards the lecturer. The pen felt cold in my hand, so I put it back onto the owner’s table. Then I faced front again to make sure I wouldn’t miss too much of the lecture. I was about to take out my notebook when another ‘kung’ startled me.

‘Seureureuk’ it slid along the uneven floor. I gazed at the pen and then at its owner. He seemed to be too deep in his dreams to bother about the lecture, let alone his pen. Picking up the pen again, I peeked over his arm and saw that he had stopped midway in taking down notes. Poor guy, I wondered what personal problem he was going through to be so tired.

Unconsciously, a sigh come out from my lips as I thought of my own problems. Life wasn’t going to be easy with the fridge being broken. Where was I supposed to keep the food from getting bad now?

After placing the pen back on the table, I took a deep breath and then took out my notebook and pen. As I uncapped my pen, the ‘kung’ was there yet again. I eyed its owner suspiciously but he was still out cold, his shoulders rising and falling at a slow rhythmic tempo. I frowned as I leaned down to take the pen off the floor once more.

This time I made sure I put it on a different spot and then waited a few seconds before convincing myself that it wouldn’t be falling any time soon. Then I turned back to my own pen and just as I was about to write, I heard it.

In a split second, I was reaching my hand to the next table just in time to catch the pen from falling all over again. “Hah!” I cried satisfactorily and then tightened my grip on the cold pen. “I didn’t think so.”

“Eo?” a moan came from the pen. Wait, no, it wasn’t the pen; it was the owner of the pen. He was awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and staring at me groggily. “What time is it?”

“Time?” I raised my eyebrows at him and then took out my phone to check the time. “It’s…ten forty-three.”

“Aish,” he groaned, a yawn taking over it halfway through as he scratched the back of his head.

That was when I noticed his distinct philtrum and the scent of coffee in his breath. Americano.

“Are you okay?” I asked, as he hurriedly packed up his stuff.

He gazed at me and then smiled. “My class was over forty-three minutes ago.”