He knew better than to believe in love at first sight.

But, really, how the hell was he going to explain this?

Kris Wu and fluttery could never co-exist in the same sentence, even if it’s what he was feeling at the moment.

Fluttery.

Yuck. He was no girly boy.

But… Damn it.

He looked across the classroom, at the quiet, timid girl sitting by the window, just as she looked up and turned her head towards him.

There went all those fluttery feelings.

He really didn’t understand why.

She was by no means popular. Sure, there were many other girls who were much prettier than her (a good chunk of said girls would willingly throw themselves at his feet, much to his disgust), had fairer skin, were more famous in the school. She was ordinary, they claimed. Always by herself, save for a handful of really close friends. She was too shy. She preferred to read on her own. She’d rather have books for company than actual people.

So why the hell did he feel this way whenever he looked at Choi Sooyoung?

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Damn it.”

Yet another fight between him and his parents.

Was it really a sin to want to do what would make him happy? Was it a crime? Seriously? University applications were literally days away, and still he and his parents couldn’t agree on his future. He was growing up, yet he still couldn’t do as his heart pleased.

He growled under his breath, slammed his hand against the wall, slumped down on a random bench in the school’s courtyard and buried his face in his hands.

Ah, this life.

He rubbed his hands on his face before he looked up and found himself staring at familiar chocolate brown eyes across the courtyard.

She showed no signs of surprise at his tantrums of sorts. She showed no signs of butting in his business, unlike many other people in school.

Instead she smiled, the kind that was non-intrusive but comforting just the same, as if it was telling him you’ll be okay.

He smiled back.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next time his eyes locked with hers, he was a heartbeat away from pulling out his own hair.

He must’ve had an I hate science and science hates me too poster stuck on his back or something.

They were in the library and as always, she sat by the window with her books and papers and pens arranged neatly on the table before her. In contrast, all his junk was spread messily on his own table. He couldn’t even bother to smile. Not right now. He was going to fail science. And if he failed science, it meant one thing.

No basketball for him.

He groaned, burying his face in his arms on the table, ignoring the fact that he was probably crumpling some papers here and there because, you know, his arms weren’t exactly small.

I’m dead.

I’m so dead.

I’m so, so dead.

I’m so, so, so dead.

I’m so, so, so–

“Hey.”

Wha–?

He looked up and there she stood, across him, or more specifically, across his table. Capital H-I-S table.

She was chewing on her lower lip, a sign that she was nervous, but she managed a smile. He blinked at her, quite unbelieving that she was there, talking to him on her own accord. “Hi.”

“Are you studying for science?”

He