Homer, my home skillet biscuit, you weren't kidding when you said gods loved to meddle in people's business.

The fact that Kim Namjoon appeared in my dreams was probably a sign that the guy was way more on my mind that he should have been or that I was in love with him.

I'm still sane enough to say that it was the first option.

Yet, I wondered how many times I repeated that it wasn’t Namjoon in my unconscious begging for my help as I waltzed from class to class in a daze. Maybe it was the fumes from my sharpie pens that I used to outline last night that were getting to me.

Just because the man had the same hazel eyes as Namjoon does not mean that they are one and the same. I mean, the differences are very distinct. No matter how many times I attempted to assure myself that the dream was a fictional byproduct of my sleeping brain, my intuition kept telling me otherwise.

Seriously, no one looks that good in a Greek tunic and gets away with it.

Maybe it's because his nickname pays homage to one of Aphrodite's lovers, and I am too emotionally invested in this paper.

A paper of which I had yet to hold in my own hands.

When Namjoon didn't appear for lecture for the third time in a row, I was considering if his family emergency was really that bad.

I still had some morals in me to care for the safety of my partner, but all I kept chanting in my head was "pain is temporary, GPA is forever".

I conveyed my dilemma to Professor Min, and, although he was sympathetic, he did not extend the final due date for the paper, which was by the end of next week.

"I specifically stated in the syllabus at the beginning of the quarter that this was the final deadline. Both of you will have had a total of ten weeks to work on this essay, so I cannot make any adjustments unless a note from a doctor is provided. If your partner, Namjoon, does have a family emergency and is able to provide a note, then we can make arrangements for him."

Never had I wanted to kick someone in the balls so bad. Or at least leave an extensively negative review in the form of a novel on ratemyprofessor.com.

"But how does Namjoon's absence affect you, Iole?"

I blinked owlishly at my professor.

I couldn't tell him that I wrote everything by hand and had nothing saved on a hard drive since he probably heard every excuse known to the human race. Namjoon even doubted me too until I revealed my ten manually written pages of research.

Professor Min probed further. "Did you two manage to meet up and do your peer reviews together?"

"Yes, sir. It's just that..um..."

"What?"

Would I sound too kiddish if I started stomping my feet and blamed Namjoon for accidentally swiping my essay?

Possibly.

So, I hitched my big girl pants up and did what most mature adults would have done.

"A bird pooped on his head. Maybe he got infected by that."

At least I got a huge guffaw from Professor Min.

If one payed close enough attention, they could see a literal cloud of turmoil and mourning floating above my slumped head as I boarded the school shuttle and headed back home.

Once I reached the confines of my own room, I mentally geared myself up for the painstaking process of redoing the entire essay again. I gently positioned my laptop so that it was centered in the middle of my desk, slammed a stack of blank paper beside it for jotting down ideas, and nearly cracked my ceramic mug holding an array of sharpie pens.

I like to do my thinking in the color of rainbows. Don't judge me.