My converse splashed into the innocent puddle that was lying on the sidewalk, soaking it entirely.

I breathed out a curse and continued running down the street with the heavy cello hanging behind my shoulders. If only I paid more attention to the time I wouldn’t have stayed back at school for so long. But being a member of the student council, it was the norm to be wanted at places for extra long hours. When I could see the bus stop in the distance of a couple of blocks, I stopped my sprint and placed my hands on my knees, bending down from exhaustion.

I was never that good in P.E anyway.

From the cement I could see a shadow standing closer to me. I lifted my head to see a glimpse of a familiar blonde head smiling mischievously. His uniform was tinted with sweat and his white shirt was pulled out of his pants in a casual manner.

I still didn’t know what kind of strings he’d pulled to be able to keep that hair colour in our school. But I wasn’t surprised, for Minhyuk was filled with unanswerable questions.

He was still on his bike, one foot set down to balance his weight.

“Hop on, you’ve missed your bus.”

My mouth gaped open at the realisation. “But... your basketball practice?” I said in between pants.

Minhyuk smiled and rolled his eyes, “Are we still in a hurry or should I fetch coffee for our little chat?”

“Oh,” I switched back to panic mode, “the recital. Right.”

Hopping onto the extra seat behind his, I quickly held onto the back of his shirt, the familiar scent of minty detergent reaching my nose.

“Wait a sec,” he muttered before getting off the bike. I stared dumbly at him, not knowing what the point of doing that was. Just when I was about to pull a protest, Minhyuk got down on his knees in front of me.

“What are you-” I started when he took hold of my wet shoes and slipped them right off. He inspected them before pursing his lips, “You can’t show up there with wet sneakers.” His hands went over the damp fabric before nodding to himself, “We need to dry them.”

Realizing that he’d got a point, and that he cared so much to even notice the shoes on my feet made me feel comfortably warm, despite the hot weather.

People who just got to know Minhyuk would think that he was being really blunt with his words, but I learned that it was because he was an honest person. He wasn’t a big fan of the sugar-coating culture the people around us have developed. Instead, he simply put his heart and thoughts into his words. I had become appreciative over the little thoughtful phrases he says whenever I was around him and realised that I no longer needed the ‘big events’ my friends often received from their boyfriends. Showing how much you care for someone shouldn’t need a thousand roses or a row of fireworks.

It could simply be done by giving them coffee after a tiring week of exams, or by pulling them to the inner side of the sidewalk when a car zooms by.

I watched as Minhyuk lifted up my feet to inspect my socks. I urgently pulled them back from him, afraid if they would smell. To be fair, I’d run around a lot that day. It wouldn’t be a surprise if my feet had smelt like death.

Noticing why I did that, he snickered. “Don’t worry about that too much and close your legs instead.”

I screamed and slapped the side of his head, making him wince.

“You looked!” I pointed an assaulted finger at him.

He laughed at my face and sat back on the bicycle to place my shoes on the front basket to dry.

“Now I know today’s choice of colour.” Minhyuk said in a sing-song tone.

“Oh really,” I squinted my eyes at him suspiciously as we started moving.

He focused his eyes on the road and nodded, “Yeah. It’s blue.”

I gave out a mocking laugh, “So you didn’t see.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.” He easily answered, giving me a side-glare, “Did you really think I’d stoop to such lows?”

“Yes, you .”

Minhyuk’s lips pouted disapprovingly, “I’m not a ert.”

My hands circled around his waist with hidden intentions and I craned my neck so that I could whisper into his ears, my lips barely brushing the tips of his skin.

“It’s pink.”

The bike screeched to a stop as the brakes rammed and my forehead bumped onto the back of his shoulder.

“What the hell?” I shouted.

His cheeks were blazing red and he was choking on something that was most likely saliva. Minhyuk still kept his gaze forward. “R-really?”

I snorted in disbelief, “Would you really think I’d tell you something like that? Of course not!”

“Jesus,” Minhyuk chuckled in relief as he shook away the light golden strands of his hair from his face, “never do that to me again while we’re on the road. It’s a safety hazard.”

“ert,” I quietly muttered as I ignored his dramatic warning.

We were back on the road and I lifted my hands to block out the harsh rays of the sun. It was an