"Normal"

Not 100% sure, but just typing out an idea I was thinking of, please tell me if you're interested. :)

Third person view:

OC, a pretty, nice girl, is experiencing her first year in college, already gaining new friends. She's a part of a new group consisting of a bunch of boys and girls, whom all love to party. Their lives are filled with drama, love, , and drugs.

Well, all except for one. His name is Lee Jinki.

He takes his own form of pills, all for his apparent anxiety. His parents think he's not completely there, always nervous and worrying. Although, his friends love him, they never take him seriously. He's a straight edge , studying and reading rather than smoking and drinking. Practically the opposite of all of them.

OC's point of view:

He likes to look at me a lot, although he doesn't say much around me. He's incredibly handsome, I'm shocked he doesn't have a girfriend or anything. He's always worrying about his friends, though, and never about himself. He practically knows everything that's going on between the drama in our friend group, always in the middle of it.

Pills, pills, pills, he takes so many pills. Anxiety and social disorder pills.

He never seems to be completely still, too, his hands sometimes shaking and playing with each other under his desk. Yet, when I look at him, he keeps still, blinking silently.

I try and grow closer to him, knowing no one else listens to him except for me. He's sweet. And reasonable. And he seems to know about me more than I do myself, always guessing correctly on what's going on.

"You dyed your hair," he tells me out of the blue, "I-it looks nice. A shade lighter?"

"Yeah," I laugh, "You're the only one who's noticed this week. Thanks."

"He's got a thing for you, you know. He's got a hard one just thinking about you right now!" my friend Jonghyun tells me with a laugh, Jinki looking down with shame.

"He's just a cute , that's all." Kibum adds, ruffling Jinki's hair.

"All I want to be is normal," Jinki says, "Like my friends."

"They're not normal, Jinki," I respond, "They're always fighting."

"Well," Jinki makes some tight fists, trying not to shake, "They get what they want. , love, happiness. I just get books and read. Oh, and pills."

"You're not happy?" I ask him gently, turning to face him.

Jinki begins to look at me before glancing down, blushing. "No."

I frown, pulling him into a sudden tight hug. He stays stiff, as if he doesn't know what to do. "I wish I could do something," I tell him, resting my head on his shoulder.

Jinki's point of view:

She has the perfect scent between floral and sweet, somewhat of a mix of pear and lilac. It's addicting, really. I can't get enough of it.

I don't really understand why she likes to talk to me so much, let alone acknowledge my existance.

I'm nothing but a panicked , diagnosed with GAD when I was in my early teens. These ing pills don't do anything to help it.

I enjoy people, although I struggle trying to talk to them. Sometimes, if I get brave enough, I'll stop shaking and try and look normal. But, most of the time my panic attacks get the best of me as I'm breaking everything I see.

I fear the thought of falling in love. I can't handle it. I can't handle the thought of loving a girl. A beautiful, soft, good smelling girl.

____ is a perfect example, really. She's lovely. She's everything I dream of in a girl, but she doesn't need to know that. I don't deserve a girl like that. I can't even talk to her. She's perfect. I'm nothing.