“Sorry I’m late!”

Donghae looks up and scrunches his eyebrows at the redhead who had just arrived, a thin layer of sweat coating his face and neck as he pants and looms over the library table.

“What took you so long?”

“Sorry. The coach was a little pissed today and gave us a load of extra drills,” Hyukjae grunts, exhaling deeply as he takes the empty seat in front of Donghae and places a bag of chips on the table along with two cartons of strawberry and chocolate milk. “He only allowed us to leave the gym twenty minutes after the supposed dismissal time. I even skipped showering. And then the line at the cafeteria was too long, I don’t know why the hell people are crowding it now considering it’s afternoon and they should all be going home already.”

“Then you should’ve skipped the snacks,” Donghae mutters in mild annoyance. “I almost left because I thought you wouldn’t show up.”

“Then don’t eat,” Hyukjae retorts before grumbling under his breath, “You say you get hungry after tennis practice and now you complain when I got you some food…”

Wrinkling his nose, Donghae grabs the chocolate milk with one hand before pushing his notebook towards the redhead with the other. “I worked on the paper that we would present for the project. I’m done with the objective, the list of materials needed, and the procedure. Also added a sample algorithm for the program. Do tell me if you find some errors.”

Hyukjae blinks at him, expression unreadable as he slides the notebook to himself. “Alright,” he says, his breathing becoming more stable as he wipes his sweat away with a small towel. He focuses on the notebook, reading and rereading and analyzing as Donghae quietly sips on his chocolate milk and observes him.

The blond sighs inaudibly through his nose.

If he was forced to choose just one out of the many things he hates about working with Hyukjae, truthfully, he wouldn’t choose the redhead himself. Sure, the guy is the ultimate source of his misery – the most annoying, infuriating person he’s ever had the misfortune of meeting. But the most irritating thing about working with the redhead isn’t actually Hyukjae… but Donghae himself.

Over a month has passed since they started working on the project, and while it had been quite easy at first to ignore his partner and only talk to him regarding work, it had gradually become difficult to keep his act up. Not much has changed – they’re still constantly bickering and arguing and purposely trying to annoy each other just for the sake of it. But amidst all these, Donghae finds himself actually becoming more comfortable around the redhead.

The heat and blatant animosity in their arguments have toned down and it now seems all bark and no bite. The loathing he feels when he’s about to spend time with Hyukjae has changed into small anticipation, mostly because when they aren’t busy biting each other’s heads off, they actually work well as a team. They’re both intelligent – what Donghae is lacking, Hyukjae would make up for, and vice versa. The project has become something quite enjoyable to do and while he would never admit it out loud, Donghae actually finds it somehow… fun to discuss things with someone as intellectual as Hyukjae.

There’s also the fact that the redhead clearly has been trying to get along well with him. Hyukjae often surrenders first in their small arguments, even daring to bring some peace offerings, such as food, to soothe Donghae’s temper. At first, he couldn’t bring himself to trust his rival, not after that chili chocolate fiasco where he had literally pulled on Hyukjae’s hair and punched him repeatedly in the shoulder in his anger. But after a harmless carton of chocolate milk, one that Donghae truly couldn’t say no to because it’s his personal favorite, he began to stop doubting the redhead’s intentions.

Which is not a good thing, because being comfortable around him, enjoying things with him, and somewhat trusting him reminds Donghae too much of the past.

Although they are far from being the best of friends now, Donghae couldn’t help but see a semblance of the old Hyukjae he knew. Other than the different hair color, the more defined features, Hyukjae doesn’t really seem all that different. He’s still that smart and mischievous boy. The playful best friend with the adorable gummy smile.

And it’s driving him insane.

He always has to constantly remind himself that this Hyukjae is still the one who betrayed him. Gummy smiles and cartons of chocolate milk be damned – what Hyukjae did in the past cannot be undone.

This project, and the time they spend together because of it – he couldn’t allow it to blur his mind. Maybe Hyukjae is still the same. Perhaps he’s still that boy from middle school, despite everything he did. But Donghae needs to remind himself that he himself isn’t the same anymore. Gone is the Donghae who was bright and filled with cheerful smiles. He no longer exists.

He couldn’t allow himself to revert to that old self – he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because becoming that boy again would only make him vulnerable.

It would only make him weak and defenseless against the emotions he knows Hyukjae is capable of making him feel. It would make him break – and that is the last thing Donghae wants.

To break once again under the hands of Lee Hyukjae… he cannot, and will not let it happen.

He watches Hyukjae bite his lower lip, his slim fingers tapping the pencil twice against the notebook before scribbling something on it, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The red hair dampened by sweat is framing his face, the orange glow of the sunset peering from outside the nearby windows casting him an ethereal glow.

How long will you pretend? A voice asks in Donghae’s mind, and he finds himself clenching his fist underneath the table, his knuckles turning white as he shifts his gaze away from the mesmerizing jewel in front of him.

Indeed, how long will he pretend?

Truthfully, Donghae does not know either.

“I added something,” Hyukjae’s low voice jolts him out of his thoughts. “In the list of materials. You forgot to add paint. Of course the robot should have some color, don’t you think?”

Those eyes are on him, and Donghae could only exhale and nod as he avoids the fiery gaze that used to make his temper flare but now only makes him feel small and helpless.

♦

He sprints through the hallways, beads of sweat forming on his temple and his breathing erratic as he keeps a straight gaze and ignores the fans who greet him along the way. In a way, he feels bad, a little guilty, because no matter how much he dislikes the popularity, he doesn’t really want to be rude towards these girls who simply admire him. It’s why he keeps on smiling, although forced and seemingly cold at times. This guilt he feels, however, is rather irrelevant when compared to the heavy weight of worry perched on his chest, the dreadful feeling that formed in the pit of his stomach the moment he saw the text Ryeowook had sent a few minutes ago.

Biting his lips, he excuses himself as he passes through a group of boys and girls, slightly bowing his head as he makes his way through them, ignoring their cheerful greetings and hushed giggles. His eyes light up, the moment a certain signboard finally comes into view, and he speeds up towards it, heart beating wildly in his chest.

A few more steps, and he’s pushing the door to the restroom open, the worry settling in his chest finally reflecting on his face as he furrows his brows and frowns visibly. “Ryeowook?”

The younger boy turns to look at him from his position in front of a cubicle, eyes wide and concerned as he calls out, “Hyungnim!”

“What happened?” Donghae closes the door behind him, making sure to lock it before approaching his friend, noting the devastated pout that marred the younger’s lips and the way his eyebrows scrunched up. “Where is he?”

Ryeowook glances at the cubicle door in front of him, biting his lower lip. “He’s been in there for over twenty minutes now. He hasn’t eaten. Lunch break will be over in half an hour.”

Exhaling, Donghae steps closer to the cubicle door, bringing up a hand and carefully knocking. “Sungmin?”

A muffled whimper escapes, and the golden blond feels a mild ache in his chest as he hears it. “Sungmin-ah, what’s wrong?” he asks gently. Another whimper, accompanied by some sniffling, is heard, causing Donghae to shift his worried glance to Ryeowook.

“Hyungnim,” Ryeowook utters softly, casting his gaze towards the tiled floor. “He was with Cho Kyuhyun earlier. I don’t know what they talked about, but I happened to be nearby. I was waiting for Sungmin-hyung to finish talking to him, when suddenly hyung ran away covering his face. I ran and called after him but before I was able to do anything else, he already…” he trails off and gestures towards the locked cubicle, his eyes shimmering in concern.

Donghae sighs and nods in understanding, his mind filled with various scenarios of what could have possibly happened. He remembers Sungmin’s words from weeks ago, about wanting to confess to Kyuhyun and tell the younger that he might be his soulmate. At the time, his friend did not appear to be too serious about it, even managing to handle Donghae’s joking comment – and yet now, the situation seems to show otherwise.

Did Sungmin actually confess? What did Kyuhyun say? Did he reject him?

His hands balling into fists, Donghae bites his lower lip as he feels a slight hint of anger brewing inside him. Truthfully, although he does not show it often, Donghae actually really cares about his friends. Sungmin, especially. The boy had been his first and only friend during his freshman year, as his cold and seemingly uncaring demeanor pushed people away. Sungmin had been persistent, talking to him on the first week nonstop despite the fact that Donghae barely answered him nor gave him any attention. It drove the golden blond nuts, this annoying boy who kept on blabbering when he only wanted to keep to himself and avoid people because he knew he couldn’t trust them anymore. Not after what Hyukjae did. But then Sungmin had proven him otherwise. The first time he clashed with Hyukjae on the second week, Donghae had been so angry, so driven with emotion and desire to beat his ex-best friend to a pulp that he almost did – if not for Sungmin consoling him. The older boy had said nothing, choosing to simply comfort him with a warm hug. It was then that Donghae somehow managed to open up to him. He didn’t exactly tell him about his past with Hyukjae, but he began to respond and stopped ignoring Sungmin whenever the latter approached and talked to him.

His silent understanding and acceptance, regardless of the fact that the golden blond didn’t even explain to him why he hated Hyukjae, comforted Donghae in more ways than one. The fact that he did not pry and never raised questions, simply opting to be a friend sticking to Donghae’s side, touched him to the point of tears – not that he actually cried in front of Sungmin. Of course not. His pride would not allow that.

His deep care for Sungmin, however, is not limited to him alone. He may have been Donghae’s only friend during freshman year, but come sophomore year, he managed to make another one in the form of Kim Ryeowook. He was his fanboy – a rather creepy one at that. Donghae had been initially shy over the sudden boost in popularity, but people like Ryeowook replaced his embarrassment with mild irritation. The short brunette followed him around everywhere to the point that Sungmin called him a deranged sasaeng fan, a nickname he hardly appreciated. Ryeowook, in retaliation, rattled off about how Sungmin was like a clingy girlfriend to Donghae, thus initiating a ridiculous cat fight that had the entire school looking. Due to the embarrassment, Donghae was forced to act as a peacemaker, once and for all ending the stupid fight by deciding to let Ryeowook hang out with them.

It seemed like a bad decision at first, with Ryeowook literally crying in joy and causing more heads to turn and gawk at the scene. Sungmin hardly even got along with him, let alone hang out with him, but it proved to be a good one when Ryeowook fiercely defended the both of them when ridiculous rumors came about. Apparently, Donghae’s lack of interest towards others, and his hanging out with Sungmin alone, caused people to think that they were an item. It had them laughing, but when girls sent glares and snide remarks towards Sungmin’s direction, it stopped being funny. Ryeowook was the one who fixed all of it, openly fighting with anyone who merely glanced and whispered, until everyone was forced to shut up about it. When Sungmin got inked, they all forgot about whatever rumors existed. But if it wasn’t for Ryeowook, they wouldn’t have stopped anyway.

It had been a well-known nickname. Ryeowook, the defender. Up to now, it sounds good to Donghae’s ears.

“Sungmin-hyung,” Ryeowook calls once again, his bony fingers carefully knocking against the door. “Hyung, come on. Please come out. You need to at least eat something before class starts.”

“Sungmin-ah,” Donghae joins him, lightly tapping on the door as well. “Hurry up and come out. I’ll buy you a slice of pizza, okay? No, make that two. Or three. It’s all on me. You’ve been complaining about how I never treat you to anything.”

Silence.

Exchanging a worried glance, Donghae and Ryeowook continue to knock.

“Hyung –” the short brunette is just about to start when the sound of the door being unlocked reaches his ear.

They step back slightly, allowing Sungmin to push the door open and step out, his puffy eyes on the floor. Donghae sees the tear-stained cheeks and feels an urge to punch a certain Cho Kyuhyun, and he’s about to run off and do it when Sungmin suddenly looks at him and forces a small smile.

“I want four slices, you cheapskate.”

Ryeowook then tackles him int