Baekhyun made a concert hall of the trees yet again a few days later.

It was late in the evening; Jongin couldn’t come to work because of extra classes and she was sent out in an emergency errand, for her mother had come to a shocking realisation that the bakery was out of the cinnamon sugar that she reserved especially for her buns. The journey took Gayoon to the park with the lure of a quicker route, but stopped her right at the very middle when she fell for the sound of a familiar croon.

Baekhyun’s guitar is glossy and elegant –as pretty as the hands that plucked and strummed its notes. Baekhyun himself was in a calm and easy manner. She saw it in his eyes, because although his voice soared huskily from overuse, he looked happy and at peace.

There was a figure lingering by the trees, pink lips pulled into a pretty smile. Gayoon knew that Baekhyun was singing to her, because his eyes during various points of the song would trail to her, and he’d let a secret smile touch his lips. The girl beamed back, though she didn’t look bashful.

Gayoon studied the girl who had Baekhyun’s affections and Jongin’s heart, the gloss of her hair in the sunlight and the artful curves of her figure. She was leaning against the tree, but did it so elegantly that Gayoon could have easily seen her in an opening stance of a ballet repertoire, arms curved in the air and long swan’s neck turned to the side.

Baekhyun couldn’t stop smiling at her and neither could she.

Gayoon found herself shrinking over the superiority of this girl’s queenly beauty. How easily the world fell at her feet. First sweet, charming Jongin who kept trying and trying and then Baekhyun who’d rarely kept girlfriends. Has she ever done anything mean? Gayoon couldn’t help but wonder, startling herself with the darkness of her own thoughts. She shook herself diffidently and went on her way, determined to not look at them.

There was no reason to resent a girl for her assets, but it was easy to be upset with one for what she took.

It was, so to say, very disorienting to come to school the morning after and have Baekhyun beam at her from across the hall. Gayoon blinked, a little bewildered, discreetly checking the people at her sides and back before establishing that Baekhyun’s smile, was, indeed, directed her.

His lack of attention to present company led Chanyeol to turn his head curiously as well, and Gayoon received an equally enthusiastic smile on his part too. Unsure how to react, she smiled tentatively back, and then quickly darted into the crowd before she mortified herself by doing something stupid. She’d long kept the thought of making Baekhyun her friend out of her reach, but the thought of him extending the courtesy was, at the very least, a baffling notion.

In the swirl of her thoughts, she nearly came head to head with Kyungsoo, who was, at present, supporting a visibly tall tower of books in his arms. He looked at her through a pair of wide-rimmed glasses; she could tell from his frown that something was playing in his mind.

“My application didn’t go through,” he said, harried. “I did everything it asked, and it didn’t go through.”

“Maybe you should take a break, Soo,” she suggested gently, moving to unload him of his burden. “Stress doesn’t look good on you.”

Kyungsoo curved his body away before she could take the third book, shaking his head, and remained tight-lipped as they walked to class. His shoulders were tense underneath his uniform, his neck the burning red of repressed tetchiness, and she lost all thoughts about Baekhyun to her concern for him.

Kyungsoo’s patience was further put to the test when later, just before lunch, he was summoned to a meeting with a teacher. His large eyes blinked at the announcement; the fingers that held his pen grew tenser, but he stood nevertheless, and obliged the request. He swept out with the silence of a winter chill.

When he returned to class after lunchtime, he was even more distressed, if a little annoyed.

“They asked me to tutor,” he said, planting himself in the chair beside her.

“What?” Gayoon stared at him in surprise. “Who in this class could possibly need tutoring?”

Kyungsoo shook his head. “Not this class. Another. 3-C. I’m to tutor him in mathematics and all other relevant subjects.”

“But Kyungsoo did you…” she hesitated, studying his frown. “What did you say?”

“They promised it would boost my extra credits,” he replied, staring at his hands. “I can’t turn them down, but –” he sighed in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. “I hate to seem pompous and all, but this is really not the best time.”

She reached across the aisle and traced soothing circles over his back. Kyungsoo looked at her with grateful eyes and let himself unwind at her touch.

She was about to open and ask if he knew the name of his new mentee when the teacher rapped the table. She pulled away, and forgot much about it until later that evening.

They were walking down the hall when Kyungsoo suddenly grabbed her arm and halted her. He pulled her away from the impatient stream, brought her to stand behind a pillar. She stared at him in confusion as he fixed the glasses on his nose, training his eyes on the empty concrete above her head.

“I’m going to meet my mentee, and I’m going to have to ask you to go home without me.”

“I’ll come,” Gayoon insisted. “I’d like to meet him to.”

Kyungsoo shook his head with a frown. She knew that frown; Kyungsoo only wore it when he thought she was being impertinent, and when he was doing something he thought would protect her. “No. Go home.”

His immediate withdrawal made her curious, stubborn. “Come on. I promise I won’t say anything. And besides, I know you’re nervous, Kyungsoo. You won’t feel so awkward if I’m around.”

“I’ll be fine.” He was insisting now. “You can go home.”

“Kyungsoo, why are you –”

Somebody cleared his throat; it was a soft sound in the empty hallway, a disturbance to the taut air of tension. Both of them turned to the sight of Baekhyun next to them, hands on the straps of his backpack, looking, very much, like a child in search of his parents.

“Sorry. Am I interrupting?” he asked, looking a little intimidated by Kyungsoo’s unblinking stare. “I didn’t mean to. I thought you forgot Kyungsoo, and was just hoping I might be able to catch you on your way out.”

“No, no.” Kyungsoo’s hand was halfway to rubbing his temples before he caught himself and forced it down. “I was just about to look for you.”

Baekhyun lit up slightly when he looked at her. “Hi, Gayoon.”

Gayoon, still a little bit speechless at the proceedings, could only offer him a smile.

“So, um… when are you going to be free?” Baekhyun asked, turning his eyes back to Kyungsoo. “I’m pretty much free everyday except certain weekends so...”

Kyungsoo glanced at her briefly, and then sighed softly to himself before saying, “How about tomorrow? Is that alright?”

“Okay.” Baekhyun stood awkwardly for a while, as though sensing the uncomfortable air, then finally said, “Well, bye. Chanyeol’s waiting for me outside, so…”

Kyungsoo nodded once, keeping the exchange completely professional.

Baekhyun smiled at her, open and sincere. “Bye,” he said softly, and then walked off.

Gayoon was still staring at him even long after he was gone.  She felt Kyungsoo’s hand on her arm after some time, and his gruff voice saying, “Come on,” as he propelled her forwards, straight after Baekhyun’s footsteps.

She still wasn’t sure what to think when Jongin drifted into the bakery, distracted, hands protective over his coat. He looked up, saw her at the counter, and smiled brightly. When she didn’t smile back, his face crumpled into concern and he strode straight towards her.

“Is something wrong?” His concern seemed a palpable thing in the room.

“Was it obvious?” she said, offering him a belated smile in greeting.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve sometimes,” Jongin said. “But only when you’re sad.”

“Kyungsoo… has just been assigned as Baekhyun’s tutor,” she said, relenting, hoping she’d have a lighter heart if she didn’t keep the words to herself. “I don’t know what to say. I know Kyungsoo is going to keep him away from me –that's just what Kyungsoo will do –but I don’t think I could keep running, because something in my head tells me that Baekhyun will keep asking for me. Kyungsoo can sprout excuses all he wants, but Baekhyun will still be suspicious.”

Jongin stared down at the counter. She watched his brows furrow, his eyes dissolve into thoughtfulness. It took a while before he looked at her said, “And why do you think he’ll keep asking for you?”

“I think…” the realisation came to her as she let the words slip from her lips, “I think he wants to be friends with me.”

“Do you want to?”

She let her shoulders slump and sagged against the register. “I have no idea.”

She glanced at Jongin, whose gaze had drifted into the far distance. His eyes were hard, and she saw many things flash through them, though nothing of distinct clarity. But the moment of tension was gone when he turned her head, and caught her stare.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he said reassuringly, and glanced down into his coat again. Gently, carefully, he extracted his hand; his tan wrist flashed, then his fingers, curled around green stems tipped with colourful blooms. “I thought those were starting to look a little bit wilted,” he said sheepishly, holding it out shyly to her. “So here.”

She took it from him without thinking, speechless. “I…”

Jongin was removing the bouquet adorning the counter, resolutely keeping his hands busy. The bit of gold of the tips of his hair couldn’t quite hide his pink ears. But he beamed at her anyway when he was done, and gestured for it to be put in.

The mixture of carnations and lilies made a splendid choice amidst the lingering scent of yeast and baked goods, a splash of colour. She noticed the care Jongin took in bringing them here, for the petals were straight and the leaves unbent. Jongin himself seemed happy, eyes glittering as the bouquet seeded its charm into the room.

“There. Since I’m not good at making pretty cakes, at least I know I’ve lent a hand in the bakery’s interior appearance.”

“We’ll make an icer out of you. You’re not as bad as you think.”

His eyes glinted teasingly. “I look forward to the day I’ll be able to ice without you hovering over my shoulder.”

“You did well with Baekhyun’s cake.”

The mention of his name was a damp cloth onto their spirits. Jongin’s smile lost a bit of its merriness, while hers was lost completely. She turned her face away.

“I have got to stop thinking about him,” she muttered miserably at the walls.

Fabric rustled and Jongin’s elbow slid over the counter, his face perched on long, elegant fingers, his smile endearing. “Is there any day you can get out of here?”

She thanked him silently for his valiant attempt at relighting the atmosphere. “Maybe. Why?”

“I want to take you somewhere, and show you something.”

She wouldn’t lie. Her heart soared at his words, its fluttering wings feather-soft against . “Show me what?”

“You’ll see,” he said mysteriously, and reached a hand to her cheek. He gave it a light tap, offering a parting, sugary smile as he slinked away into the kitchen.

She didn’t understand the tap, the smile, but the logic in her catalogued it as a gesture of affection.

Although it didn’t quite stop the blush on her cheeks.