The sun peeked behind the cottony clouds that dotted the otherwise clear blue sky in different hues of whites and grays. Since it was still in the middle of spring—that and the fact that it was still early in the morning—the sun’s heat was thankfully not as biting to the skin.

As a matter of fact, it was incredibly chilly that Sungjae wholeheartedly regretted not bringing the jacket his mom had prepared for him.

Actually, he regretted coming to school. Period.

It wasn’t like he had reasons to be early. Semi-finals were over and he had passed all the necessary school requirements needed for that grading period. He had no student council obligations that required him to be that early. There were no new homeworks or projects either. All in all, it was a particularly laid back week as most of his classes gave them a free time, or had them watch movie films. There were only three classes that resumed their regular schedules, and even then, the teachers were pretty chill.

The only reason he showed up that early for school was because he woke up an hour earlier than usual and found himself unable to return to sleep. It was a particularly shallow reason, but he had surmised that it was better than to blankly stare at his room’s old boring ceiling and count sheep.

He was going to wake up an hour later, so why not move now?

When Sungjae entered the school’s main lobby, he wasn’t really expecting to see Park Sooyoung, wrapped up in an oversized baby pink hoodie, to be loitering near the announcement board with a scrunched up nose.

He actually wanted to scold her for wearing such an attire.

If it weren’t for the popped-up collar and the ends of her skirt peeking through the hoodie, he would’ve thought that she wasn’t wearing her uniform underneath.

And that was a school violation. Not wearing the uniform, he meant.

It wasn’t like he was looking for reasons to approach her. Tsk. Of course not. He was only doing his duty as the student head of the disciplinary committee.

Idly, he wondered if she was there to write a reply since she had failed to do so the day before.

He carefully made his way to lean on the nearest pillar, one hand tucked in his pocket as the other held on tightly to his bag’s sling, his eyes never leaving her even as her hand flew to her head, the tips of her fingers peeking curtly from her sleeve to ruffle her hair. Admittedly, he found the gesture cute as it reminded him of a little kid getting confused about something.

It was then, when a flicker of childish glee crossed her face, that his hand immediately retrieved his hand phone from his pocket, his mind blank the entire time as his thumb worked to unlock the screen. He had no actual idea what he was doing, his body seemingly moving out of its own accord as he found himself looking for a camera app to snap a picture—just in time to capture her scratching the corkboard’s surface with a tack.

A loud shutter sound resounded from his device, which was shortly followed by an obvious flash. It might sound like an excuse but he honestly had no idea what he was doing until he had done it.

And apparently, he wasn’t the only one.

Joy stiffened as she slowly retracted her hand, tack pressed and forgotten on the board as she tentatively turned around. It was almost funny how her expression turned from sheepish to that of shock in a split second; eyes wide open as she physically froze.

He was equally shocked too that he couldn’t have been more grateful that his face was hidden behind the plastic device. He was able to regain his cool without her knowing how panicked he equally was. He quickly assumed a calm expression and pretended to inspect the picture he just took.

Clicking his tongue, he casually leaned back on the pillar so only his side profile was visible from her angle, “What’s this?” He zoomed her picture—his heart beating fondly at how cute she looked in it—before he shot her a reprimanding look.

It was almost amazing how not even a hint of what he was actually feeling inside outwardly showed.

“Why are you violating school rules?” He asked, stuffing the phone back in his pocket as he pushed himself off the pillar, and turned to face her, “It’s too early for this, isn’t it, freshman?”

She only blinked, finding herself at loss for words even though he could clearly see that she was internally panicking. He found it amazing how her emotions were blatantly displayed in her eyes—it almost felt as if she wore her heart on her sleeve although months of observing her told him otherwise.

Amused at her reaction, he slowly approached her, but that movement seemed to have roused her from her shock. She hastily turned around, back straight and head held high, as she assumed a nonchalant façade, taking casual strides away from the scene as if she was just passing by and haven’t been destructing school property.

He raised a brow at her boldness, not bothering to hide his amused smile knowing that she couldn’t see it anyway, “Are you sure you’re going to do that?” He teased—though the tone of his voice showed none of his playfulness—and quickened his pace to follow after her, “More load might be added to your sanction if you try to escape though.”

She seemed to be mumbling something to herself as she hastened her pace. The sound of her indoor shoes shuffling inside the school hallway faintly echoed—he couldn't help but note that the noise it created was surprisingly soothing and comforting. It was weird, in a way, for him to be feeling that way, because it seemed that being in proximity with her just simply calmed him. What was even more surprising was that she was able to awaken a plethora of emotions he didn't know he had. It almost scared him, if he were to be honest, but even more so than being scared, he was thrilled and curious at the same time. It excites him—in a non-ual way—to know that there was a wider range of emotions he never knew he was capable of feeling.

He followed after her, discretely glancing around to see if people were staring. Thankfully. since it was still early—around 7AM at most—the number of students present were scarce. Though some did throw them looks, most of them were the smart types and book-y types that cared more about their grades than the latest school gossip, hence, him walking after her wouldn’t affect his ‘unclimbable wall’ reputation.

He looked too playful and amused to just be pursuing after an offending student.

On another note, it might sound like he’s bragging—he actually was—but he is pretty well-known inside the campus. He couldn’t blame the women (and sometimes, the men) to be crushing on him. As he’d told his friends more than a dozen times before: he is handsome.

Speaking of, he’s handsome, and yet why is she running away from him and not acting like one those clichéd chicks that professed their love for him? It almost felt like she doesn’t like seeing his face.

“You do know that I’ll be surrendering this image to the prefect of student welfare, right?”  He called out, hoping to get her attention. It was low, he knew, he was basically threatening her, but he seriously just wanted her to talk to him.

His efforts failed though.

She looked unmoved, picking up her pace in an almost sprint.

He took longer strides to catch up to her, mind reeling as he looked for a different approach, “Wendy won’t be mad once she finds out that you got caught and got a record in the office? You’re her friend, right? She talks pretty fondly about you.”

She stopped.

He smirked triumphantly.

Bingo!

 He passed by her, smiling discretely when he heard a colorful curse pass through her sweet pink lips. It was quite a contrast to her innocent looking face that he strangely felt accomplished to be able to get that side out of her. As far as he knew, she rarely cursed, and when she does, it was due to extreme annoyance.

It was sad that she was annoyed with him the first time he spoke to her, but annoying people leaves more of an impact than pleasant ones, don’t they?

She seemed to be silently deliberating something with herself since he could feel her eyes affix on his back as he walked closer and closer to the hallway leading to the prefect’s office.

“Wait!” She finally said, running after him to clutch his arm. It halted his steps, his heart soaring excitedly at the contact. He was mentally congratulating himself for maintaining a calm physique—even if what he was feeling inside was anything but. “Can’t you let me off just this once?” She pleaded, big round eyes peering right at him, intensely begging him concede.

He knew that he was blushing—his ears had never felt so warm—but a part of him still hoped that she hadn’t noticed. He blinked, averting his gaze to look up, appearing as if he was deep in thought even though he only did that due to what she was doing to his insides, “Why?” He stared back at her, “If I do that, then I’d be neglecting my duties as part of the student council.”

She bit her lip and looked down as she scratched her head, one hand freeing his arm though the other remained in its place, “I don’t want to hear Wendy-unnie nag.” She pouted before staring up again, “You know how she is, right? Once she starts, she never stops.” She complained.

He stifled his laughter, finding her statement true. Wendy doesn’t complain much, she’s okay with being teased, or being bullied—she’s actually fine with nearly everything else. She’s an agreeable person to begin with, but like everybody else, she also had an annoying personality. She tends to nag, especially when she tries to remind them of their duties—and if there’s one thing people know about Wendy’s nags, it’s that they are one of a kind.

She nags like a mom on fire.

Though everyone found it annoying at first, they started to realize that she was only like that because she genuinely cared about them—which isn’t so bad.

“Ah,” He nodded in emphatically, “I still can’t let you off the hook, though. I know you’re not a first time offender.”

She stared hardly at him as if a million thoughts were going through her head. Her gaze was accusing, though he didn't know why, she looked at him like she was a hyporcite. On another note, she looked like a hamster with her cheeks unconsciously puffed up that he couldn’t deny how inhumanely adorable she looked. She looked like a teething baby, to be honest. He had to resist the strong urge of pinching her cheeks.

He raised his brow, partly because he was interested on what could’ve been running in her head—what made her look at him like that?— and partly because he was unsure of what to make of her expression.

In the end, she only sighed before staring at him with a frown.

Feeling the need to justify himself, he spoke, “Vandalism is against school rules, don’t you know that?” Then he shook his head as he clicked his tongue, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and stopping shortly when he realized that she was still latching on his arm.

He cleared his throat to bring it to her attention, though small parts of him rejoiced and wished that she won't remove it—it counts as first skinship, doesn't it?

She quickly moved to take her hand off him, cheeks flushed in an embarrassed manner.

He was disappointed, though he didn't show. “You should be familiar with the contents of the student’s handbook by now.” He continued, ignoring the nagging feeling of loss when his skin no longer felt hers.

She opened , probably to protest, but clammed it shut, opting instead to plead with her eyes as she rubbed her palms together.

He almost laughed at how childish this entire charade was, keeping it to himself that even though he is the current student head of the disciplinary committee, he was guilty of committing the same crime. He pretended to give in, “Alright,” He conceded, “Since you’re still a freshman, I won’t tell the prefect.”

Her face lit up.

“But,” Her expression fell immediately, “You still need to be punished.”

“Punishment?” She frowned, “Aren’t you being unfair?” She blurted without thinking, eyes widening once she realized what she had said as her hands flew to cover her lips.

His brows shot up as he stared at her, unsure what to make of her statement or her actions, “Unfair? Why?” He tilted his head, not really getting what she meant, “It’s more unfair to the other students if I let you off, don’t you think?”

“But you also—”

He looked alarmed, “I also what?” He cut her off as he leaned closer, making her shrink. His heart was thumping erratically in his chest as he wondered if she knew. Because if she did, why hadn’t she approached him?

“Nothing.” She hastily replied as she took one step back and blinked, putting more distance between them. He almost frowned at her actions but managed to put on a neutral face. “But what kind of punishment are you giving me?” She asked instead, “You’re not going to make me clean the toilet, are you?” She scrunched her nose at the thought, eyes squinting together in an adorable look of grimace, “Or are you going to make me clean all the vandals on the school walls?”

He almost laughed as he straightened his back.

Even if she hadn’t said anything, the horrified look on her face told him that she’s probably screaming a long, protestant ‘NO!’ inside her head.

He smirked, watching in satisfaction as her expression broke even more, probably thinking that she got her guess right. “That’s a sanction the prefect gives, so no.”

She visibly relaxed as a relieved sigh left her lips.

He snorted a laugh, which earned him a glare, so he coughed to cover it up. He cleared his throat, “I must be getting sick.” He lamely said, making him belatedly wish that he had done and said something else other than that old outdated excuse.

The look on her face told him that she didn’t buy it so he quickly dropped the act and assumed a serious expression, “Meet me at the student council’s meeting room during dismissal, I’ll tell you what your punishment is then.”

“Wouldn’t Wendy-unnie know that I got caught?”

He smirked, “Exactly!” He snapped his fingers as he smiled, “You’re pretty smart.” He looked proud but she knew better than to believe his expression. She knew that he was only mocking her by making it look like he’s complimenting her, “She should know. She’s your beloved friend, isn’t she?