Junhui dropped onto the sofa in the main room of his dorm, his best friend of seven years trailing behind him.

“I'm telling you, 'Hao, he completely blanked me!” He whined, reaching for the controller for the TV that took almost eight months of work to pay for.

They had just come back from their final class of the day – the only class they shared – English. Both Minghao and Junhui were skilled in English, so they had completed the work that was set for them fairly quickly. Junhui was more than willing to change the topic of conversation to the person he'd had the utmost pleasure of sitting by in psychology for two hours.

“Hyung... I've had this conversation with you seven times already, don't make me say it again,” Minghao groaned, “just don't fall in love too quick... we both know how that has ended for you.”

It was true. The past seven times Junhui had found himself in love, every single relationship had ended badly. He knew people often tried to get rid of the tattoos of past loves, he knew they marred their skin in particularly bad attempts to make the tattoo disappear. But Junhui never did that. No. He wore them with pride. He wore them like they were badges of honour, as though surviving seven heartbreaks on his part was an achievement. Although, it was an achievement – so many defaced their tattoos because they couldn't bear to be reminded of the hurt that had been caused but Junhui stood tall and showed off his etchings for the world to see.

“I don't love him Minghao, I just want to know more about him. I was sat next to him for two hours today and the only time he spoke to me was to tell me to work!” It seemed that despite the pair only having just arrived at their home, Junhui had already managed to annoy Minghao so much that a pillow was thrown at his head.

It was only the first day at college so there was no homework set yet, so Junhui and Minghao spent their first night unpacking belongings that were still, for some reason, in boxes; stuffing too many clothes into tiny draws, and desperately trying to find a place for the massive amount of books they both had. It wasn't until 10pm they could finally relax and get some food.

“Pizza?” Minghao suggested.

“Sure, it's on me,” Junhui said whilst moving to grab his wallet, “order whatever you want, I don't mind.”

So that's what they did. They spent the rest of the evening eating pizza and talking. Jeonghan was brought up several times by Junhui and Minghao had to constantly change topics but it always came back to the 'long-haired angel who ignored me'.

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They saw each other again 3 days after their initial meeting; both were still cooped up in the small and dingy corner of the old lecture hall.

Jeonghan would never admit he was stuck in a subject, never. But even though he had covered the case study of Little Hans before he still struggled to grasp some of the bizarre concepts Freud came up with. Jeonghan was prideful, he never admitted defeat, especially to a teacher, so he silently turned in his seat to the boy next to him.

"Junhui-ah.... can you explain this to me?" Jeonghan asked, carefully tapping Junhui in his shoulder. Junhui turned to him and smiled a bright, wide grin that in turn made Jeonghan's sullen face begin to perk up.

"I don't know your name." Junhui muttered.

"Jeonghan. My name is Yoon Jeonghan."

"What do you need help with, Jeonghan?"

Jeonghan explained that he was stumped with the how Freud's dream theory linked with the Little Hans case, and that he couldn't think of any weaknesses for the case. The younger of the two took his time to carefully explain to Jeonghan the concepts and weaknesses of the case study, all whilst admiring Jeonghan's handsome face and beautiful hair.

Once Jeonghan understood the material, he muttered a quick thanks to the person on his right before swiveling back around to look at his textbook. They didn't speak for the rest of the lesson, both of them understood the material and they were not familiar enough with each other to hold a decent conversation. Although, they did exchange a few smiles every now and then, when one caught the other staring.

Before Jeonghan had the chance to dash off to his next lesson, Junhui grabbed Jeonghan's upper arm and handed him a piece of paper.

"My number," he said, "text me if you need help again."

Jeonghan looked down at the small piece of paper with a number messily scrawled on it and smiled.

"Sure, of course." He grinned as he walked away.

At least there was progress today.