Meanings 

The following morning, I woke up to Daehyun's face, already awoken with a tinge of red dusting his cheeks. Our feet were brushing against one another and Daehyun immediately apologised for our tangled ankles, pulling away.

I had been groggy for most of the morning, toddling out of the room and grunting softly when Daehyun handed me a spare toothbrush. I nearly fell asleep on the toilet (who knows how long I spent sitting there blankly) and came to my senses only because of a wafting, delectable scent. We sat across each other at the dining table, munching up the delicious Western breakfast Daehyun's helper made for us. I was too sleepy to make a conversation, while Daehyun didn't disturb me, sketching in his book and peering up occasionally in politeness.

He didn't look like he got a lot of sleep, eye circles dabbing his cheeks. I didn't get to ask him about it though, as once I checked my phone, I leapt up and scrambled for my things. My mother had called me over twenty times in the last hour, sending me repeated texts demanding to know where I was.

I profusely thanked Daehyun for letting me stay over and sprinted out of the house, promising to return the shirt and calling my mother back. I vaguely heard Daehyun raising his voice, asking me if I wanted him to walk me back, but I had no time to reply him. I really felt like an as I dashed down the street (halfway giggling about Daehyun's bed hair), having left him like that.

My mother had her course postponed, so she arrived back home earlier than expected. She was pretty upset that I'd stayed out, but when I cited the storm as reason, she cooled down. She'd rushed back home to check on me after the storm, booking the earliest plane ticket possible.

We went out for breakfast together that day. The moment my mother had offered to go out together, I'd nearly tripped over my feet in a hurry to get my wallet. We haven't eaten together in a long time, and I've honestly never asked because my parents are constantly preoccupied with work.

I had tugged open my bag to find Joko and Keke both stuffed inside my bag. There was a note stuck to them.

Joko and Keke are inseparable!

I widened my eyes to find, in a separate envelope, a wad of cash that way exceeded whatever I had forked out yesterday. There were even the crumpled bills I had tucked in Daehyun's pocket yesterday. I flipped Daehyun's note about our bunnies around to find a short letter.

Thank you for the shirt. I'll wear it often.

I remember smiling to myself stupidly till my mother came in to get me. We talked for the longest time I could recall, about school, about the publishing team, about Daehyun, and she said she wanted to meet Daehyun one day.

Jongup and I met in the afternoon to discuss about Himchan's celebration party. Hongki had contacted me in the morning asking if we could plan a celebration together. He'd promptly decided to join our meeting and I'd been a bit nervous since I'd never talked to Hongki before (more of Himchan popping over with him and them completing one another's sentences), but thankfully, he came alone and he was really friendly.

I stayed up till three yesterday, putting together the photos Himchan's friends sent me into a video. It was a rush job since we'll be holding the celebration on Monday night, which is today, but we luckily both planned beforehand. Everyone forked out a lot for this, so I'm hoping I don't screw it up and waste everyone's time.

The afternoon sun is particularly meek today, adding on more shade to the thick canopy of leaves in the school garden. I drum my fingers against the bento box in my hands and glance out, waiting for Daehyun to arrive. Since Daehyun said the other day that he gets hungry while waiting for literature to start, I woke up early to make him lunch. Just some rice, teriyaki chicken, salmon and an egg. I hope it'll do for him.

I'm really nervous for our evaluation today. We didn't include any homoual themes (at least, I didn't because I didn't want Park-songsaengnim to think we were acting out) so perhaps he will be more fair in his grading. I'm afraid he'll lash out at me for not changing partners, but I still don't regret continuing the project with Daehyun.

Is Daehyun coming? It's already been ten minutes...

I flush in embarrassment, pinching my nose with a groan. We never technically agreed to meet; Daehyun just suggested it since we both spent our break here. Maybe he went to get lunch today. Whatever it is, I shouldn't be expecting him to show up for me.

Just as I rise from the ground, a voice calls out for me. "Youngjae!"

I turn to see Daehyun darting up to me, stopping to pant for a second. "I'm sorry; the teacher released us late."

"Daehyun, are you okay?" I concernedly ask. "It's alright! You're not late. We still have twenty minutes more."

"I'm late to meet you," Daehyun explains, calming down from his erratic breathing as I wince in guilt.

"What? You don't have to run to meet me. It's okay, Daehyun."

I nervously play with the bento box behind my back as we settle down on the grass. "Here, I mumble, holding out the box as Daehyun blinks at it.

"For you."

Daehyun slowly takes the box, peering at it curiously. "Is this..." He pries open the lid. "You made me lunch?"

I nod meekly and massage my neck. "Have you eaten yet? Sorry. I don't know if you'll like it."

Daehyun removes his gaze from the lunch box and looks at me, a little bit too long for comfort. His lips melt into a simper, lowering his head and letting out a quiet breath.

"Thank you," he breathes, gazing at me once again. I wave away his sentence and break out the chopsticks, handing them to Daehyun. 

"Look who I brought along." I squirm out Joko from my bag and place it on his lap, smiling lightly. "You can eat dinner with Joko if you're not eating with someone."

Daehyun lets out a chuckle, nodding and placing Joko opposite him. "Let's eat together."

He takes a bite then holds a slice of fish to my lips. "It tastes really good," he blubbers, eyes crinkling.

Somehow, Daehyun's presence is warm like the sunlight gently falling onto my arms. I can't help but feel a little nervous around him nowadays, being so joyful to see him.

"I hope Park-songsaengnim will like our project," I say, tapping a soft beat on my knees. Daehyun feeds me again, munching merrily on his food.

"You got an A," he blubbers, toothy smile on his face. "For the first part of the project."

I blink questioningly at Daehyun, before recalling what he said. "Did you talk to Park-songsaengnim?"

"Yeah," he hums, as though he hadn't done anything great.

"Wow... I... Thanks, Daehyun. You're amazing. Wait, but what about yours?" I immediately ask. Daehyun waves lightly, stuffing more rice into his mouth.

"He didn't change yours?" I worriedly ask. Daehyun simply shrugs, poking at some chicken and feeding me gently. I frown, nudging away his arm.

"I'm going to talk to him. Why did he only change my grade?"

Daehyun shakes his head, mumbling indifferently, "I told him I deserved to fail but you didn't."

I forlornly glance at Daehyun, guilt gnawing incessantly. "You fought for my grades and not yours?"

My insides churn at Daehyun's self-sacrificing prospect and I huff, squeezing my fist. "I have to go talk to Park-songsaengnim. You put in as much hard work as I did for our report. Let's go find him now."

"It's okay," Daehyun returns, more preoccupied with the food than anything. "Let's stay here and eat. I don't mind."

"Hey, this is your first term results," I chide softly, upset at how unfairly Daehyun had been treated. Why did I get a good grade while he failed?

"Eating isn't nearly as important as this..." I mumble.

"But," Daehyun begins, clearly not perturbed by his dismal grades, "you made this lunch box for me." He lifts it up, peering at it in wonder with an uncontained, b grin.

"In the morning, you thought of me," he melts into a rich laugh. "Thank you."

I flutter my lashes, slightly bewildered by his reaction. My cooking isn't that phenomenal. And "thought of me"...?

Daehyun feeds me once again as I glance at him, feeling slightly flushed. God, why does he say it like that?

"How's your designing going?"

"Um..." I instinctively hesitate as I stare into Daehyun's eyes, uneasiness rising in me. Somehow, my throat tightens and I stammer out a reply.

"I- um, it's okay. We just finished our latest issue and I've finished both the poster for Beacon and Romea and Juliet."

"You're amazing," Daehyun cheers as I watch, amused.

"If I'm amazing, what are you?" I laugh, nudging away Daehyun's hand to indicate I'm full. "How's your basketball coming along?"

"It's alright. Hongbin nearly sprained his ankle and Coach put him off practice this whole week to recover. Hongbin still comes, anyway."

"That's Hongbin for you." I start to notice how close Daehyun and I are sitting, rather uncomfortable at our proximity. Have we always been this touchy? Or am I just overreacting?

"Jaebum says you're the team's trump card."

Daehyun waves it off nonchalantly, humble response as expected. "I'm nothing much."

"Oh right, your clothes." I rummage out the clothes Daehyun lent, its scent now distinctly like my fabric softener.

"Sorry for staying over so suddenly..." The memory of our tangled legs and waking up to Daehyun's face suddenly flashes in my mind. I hadn't thought anything of it at that time but to reflect on it. the close proximity was a bit awkward.

"No, it's completely okay. Thank you for staying. Uh, I... yeah."

"You didn't look so good in the morning. Did you have a good sleep?" I question, grimacing. "Was I tossing about?"

"You weren't; I wasn't tired so I couldn't fall asleep," Daehyun murmurs.

If Jaebum was here, he'd probably say something like "I know of a way to make you tired" and start twerking. I'm not kidding. He tried that once in freshman year, yelling "oppa" till my mother barged in. Needless to say, I never let Jaebum stay over again.

"Was I the cause of it?"

Daehyun's eyes widen, much to my puzzlement. If it's true, that means I probably stank and Daehyun was hesitating on telling me. Crap.

"No, I was just... thinking."

I nod in relief, smiling at the memory of our conversation. Can we still meet after the project?

"We're friends," I remind, feeling a little stupid at how giddy I am.

Daehyun grins at me, muffling out through his munching, "Yeah."

We burst out into laughter, I still in wonderment how Daehyun could even treat someone as plain as me like that. He made me feel like the world with what he said.

We suddenly sink into a really awkward silence, staring at one another blankly. I know Daehyun is attractive, but has he always been this handsome?

Woah, hold up there weird thoughts. I shake them away and pick up the diced meat on the toothpick, poking them abruptly into Daehyun's mouth.

"When you grow old, I bet you'll have a big belly from eating so much," I joke.

Daehyun simply stares at me, eyes unreadable.

"Don't you think... what you're doing is something my lover should do?" Daehyun's voice is quiet, words hesitant—weirded out and awkward about pointing it out to me.

Taken aback, I pull away and apologise profusely. "I'm sorry!" I had no idea Daehyun would think that way. Embarrassment burns my cheeks and I scoot away.

"No," Daehyun hurriedly tries to explain, nicely trying not to humiliate me, "I mean-"

The bell rings, interrupting Daehyun effectively. "Crap, we better hurry, else Park-songsaengnim will kill us," I blather, helping Daehyun to pack the finished lunch box.

We briskly sprint to the hall, walking over to our accorded booth. The moment I step in, Park-songsaengnim turns to me with a dark frown but he keeps mum. The attendance list is passed down and we sign our names, my eyes accidentally stumbling on the name before mine, romanised in English.

Yi Taemin.

That's interesting. Usually, people romanise that particular surname as Lee. I pass on the list to Dasom, smiling slightly as she thanks me.

Daehyun and I set up our pieces, nervousness trailing through my veins. We need to get an A on this so Daehyun can get an overall decent grade. I switch on the slide show, marvelling at Daehyun's artworks placed side by side. We stick up several prose pieces and poems onto the bulletin board, waiting for our turn to be judged. Everyone else has done a good job.

"Oh my god!" A sudden yell startles me while I'm pinning up some crumpled love notes, my balance on the stool wavering. I nearly topple over when Daehyun catches me.

"Are you okay?" Daehyun worriedly asks as I nod, his hold sturdy and strong. He helps me to my feet as we turn to the intruder.

", sorry," Zitao laughs. "But damn, you guys did this?" He waves maniacally, nearly knocking over one of Daehyun's works. 

"Daehyun did," I proudly announce just as more of our classmates begin to crowd around our booth.

"Ooh? What's so interesting?" Instantly, the crowd parts to let Kim-songsaengnim, the teacher's assistant Kim Ryeowook, walk forward.

"Wow!" He cheers, eyes widening as he dashes forward. "This is amazing! Beautiful! Absolutely wonderful!"

Kim-songsaengnim begins to gesture erratically. "The amount of effort you guys put into this project is splendid!"

I point to Daehyun cheekily as Kim-songsaengnim nears the Notre Dame display, marvelling at it.

"You did this?" Kim-songsaengnim turns to Daehyun, waving at the numerous art pieces.

Daehyun uncertainly nods and Kim-songsaengnim whistles in wonderment. I gaze over at Daehyun as he recedes to the back, clearly uncomfortable about the attention he's getting. Really, how can a star so bright want to hide itself?

"You can forget about the F you got, Youngjae," Aaron pipes in, gaping as well.

Kim-songsaengnim spins on his heels at this. "What? F?"

"Why is this booth not mended?"

Heads instantly turn to the voice across the hall and the students scurry back to their places, Zitao and Jiyoung apologetically bowing to Park-songsaengnim. Park-songsaengnim scribbles on his clipboard, scrutinising their works.

"You two got an F for the first segment?" We nod to Kim-songsaengnim's question as he furrows his brows.

"Did you not hand it in? I read through all of the essays before the final grading; there were a few who were borderline Cs but to be awarded an F?"

"We handed it in," I quietly answer.

"Can I see your essay?"

I hastily grab the papers from my bag and hand them to Kim-songsaengnim. He skims over it for a while before looking up.

"I can't tell the exact standard but this is definitely worthy of at least a B. Why did you fare so badly?"

"Ryeowook."

We turn to find Park-songsaengnim with a sharp frown, arms folded.

"You are supposed to be grading the booths, starting from that end." He regards both Daehyun and me with a slight scowl.

"Jungsoo-hyung," Kim-songsaengnim frets, flipping through our essay furiously, "why did this pair fail their essay component?"

He leans over to show Park-songsaengnim the papers to no avail. Park-songsaengnim barely bats an eye, tapping his pen on his board.

"Please discuss these matters with me later." Park-songsaengnim barely glimpses over our booth, taking down some notes. "What's your theme?" He coldly asks.

"Love," I squeak out. His pen stops for a short, tense second before continuing. He peruses our pieces, glancing down to the laptop and reading through Daehyun's lyrics.

"I thought I suggested you to change partners, Youngjae," he muses while looking through the papers we placed out. "You still decided to pair up with Daehyun, I see."

"Sorry, songsaengnim," I whisper, lowering my head. Kim-songsaengnim watches with an unsettled expression.

"You're sorry, but you still did it," Park-songsaengnim states indifferently, scribbling on his clipboard. I bite down on my lower lip.

"I'm sorry for not listening to you," I mumble, "but I wanted to do the project with Daehyun."

Park-songsaengnim turns to me at this.

"So be it," he concludes, striding off without another look. Kim-songsaengnim tails behind quickly, whispering furiously. Daehyun and I look at another anxiously, and Daehyun parts his lips.

Sensing an apology coming, I quickly put my finger to his lips. Daehyun blinks at me.

"No 'sorry's! We did our best." I remove my finger, smiling apologetically at having squished Daehyun's lips. He melts into a soft smile, nodding.

We sit down by the booth and rest, waiting for the rest to finish their evaluation. Truthfully, my heart is palpitating wildly as I have never been confronted by a teacher before. Laying low has its perks, meaning I've never gotten into trouble with any teacher.

I don't know where I got the burst of courage to answer Park-songsaengnim, but I'm glad I did.

"Love booth! Yeah!" I chime out of nowhere, a sense of accomplishment permeating me as I gaze at our works. This is the combined effort of both Daehyun and me. I mean, Daehyun's works are obviously a lot better than mine, but it still feels nice to see somethin we've done together.

"That sounds wrong," Daehyun remarks with laughter. I snort. "What were you thinking? Dirty-minded."

"Hey, I was just thinking of those kissing booths," Daehyun answers, smile incandescent.

I pucker my lips jokingly and put out a hand. "A dollar to get a taste of these lips!"

Daehyun blinks at me and his face begins turning red, letting out a weak laugh. It's really so easy to get him flustered.

"Okay, big boy," I tease and move back. "Your lips are saved for that special one, hm?"

Perhaps it's the fact our hard work has paid off (well, sorta) and we've finally gotten this project over with, but I suddenly feel courageous enough to rest my head on Daehyun's shoulder. We are close enough to do that, right? I'm dead beat, and even if we don't get a good grade, it was a great experience.

"I never thought about how we met all because of this project," I laugh, nuzzling into Daehyun's shoulder.

I feel him twitch against me and I look up, disconcerted. "Are you uncomfortable? I'll move-"

"No, no," he assures, relaxing slightly. "Yeah, it's weird, right?"

I vaguely remember the day. I looked at Daehyun like he’d grown an extra head and up till this point, I’m still stunned that he asked me. We’d met the day before, sorta, because we were awkwardly left together when Jaebum and Jinyoung left.

"I’ve always wanted to know; why did you ask me to be your partner?” I question and Daehyun twitches again. “Was it because of Hyeran?”

“What?” Daehyun looks at me in confusion.

“Sorry,” I sheepishly chime, “Park-songsaengnim said you were staring at her so… I thought maybe you wanted to ask her but chickened out.”

“It’s not,” Daehyun mutters.

I elbow him lightly. “Oh, so Park-songsaengnim saw wrong? You must have been staring for a pretty long time if he called you out like that.” Maybe the girl Daehyun likes is Hyeran?

“He caught you staring at another girl too. Hm, Bora, was it? Ah, no, Dasom!” I tease, laughing as Daehyun fumbles over his words. He’s really cute; I wonder how he reacts around his crush… probably splutters?

Daehyun's adam apple bobs up and down. “I was staring at you.”

Wait.

What?

My jaw slackens and I tug my head off Daehyun, brows raised so high it feels like they’ll reach my hair line. Did he just say that? Staring at me? What in heavens’ name was he looking at me for?

I almost laugh, passing it off as a joke, when I meet Daehyun’s serious eyes. My throat suddenly turns dry and a tickling feeling dances up my cheeks. Oh god, I hope I’m not blushing. What the heck would I blush for? More importantly, what the heck does Daehyun mean?

“I always wanted to be your friend,” Daehyun mutters, igniting so much heat up my neck I feel like I’ll combust at any moment. Am I hearing it right? Jung Daehyun always wanted to be friends with me, some nobody?

“Me?” I dumbly ask, eyes wide. But it doesn’t make sense. Park-songsaengnim said he was staring at Hyeran and Dasom…

Both… who I sat beside...

He was staring at me this whole time?

“You’re kidding, right?” I meekly squeak out in disbelief. There are so many people in our class; what did I do to catch Daehyun’s attention?

“Sorry,” Daehyun mumbles, alarming me instantly. “I saw you dozed off and you didn’t seem to have a partner, so I asked you.”

“No, why are you sorry?” I blurt, praying to the heavens my face isn’t as red as a tomato right now. “It’s just, well,” I point to myself, asking for reaffirmation. “Me?”

Daehyun nods barely, not looking at me. I blink rapidly, leaning back against the booth and stiffly letting out a breath. God, this boy makes me feel like I have the entire world in my hands. To others, what Daehyun said may not be much—I’m probably overreacting—but hearing that someone actually wanted to befriend me, coming from Daehyun, such an impeccable boy, too…