If Dongmin thought time can hurt a heartache, he was certainly wrong.

Lee Dongmin is not a person to regret his decisions. He broods on his next step, considering others’ feelings before opening his mouth. But for once, it seems like his brain has short-circuited and his predictions have fallen short. Does he regret kissing Bin? The question lingers like a ghost in his mind, flirting with his memories as he watches from a dry spot under the bus awning as a lone raindrop slide down the glass pane of the bus stop.

It’s funny how much today feels like that day, Dongmin thinks wryly to himself. He has forgotten his umbrella in his hurry to get to his morning class – having barely slept once again. It’s raining. Eerily like the day he…

Dongmin refuses to think about it. He sneezes once, conveniently clearing those troubling thoughts that are wandering into the hurtful parts of his heart, thanking the heavens that the bus has arrived just in time. There’s a good chance he may be catching a cold with the way he’s feeling chilly. But whether from the weather or from his present mood, he’s not sure. For once Dongmin has no after school activities with the student committee, so he plans to head straight for his dorms to take a nap, hopefully to clear his stuffy head and perhaps maybe for another reason.

He’s met with expected disappointment. As he presumed, Dongmin opens the door to an empty room. It’s been a week since he has seen the other. In the mornings Dongmin wakes up to a made bed. At nights he falls asleep on his own. With a sigh he lets the books in his hands drop to the floor with a resounding thump, backpack carelessly strewn next to his spilled pens. He only remembers to slip out of his shoes before he’s burrowing into his unmade bed and breathing in the fabric softener of his pillow.

It would have been calming, with the steady pitter patter of the raindrops against the window by his bed typically bringing a gentle thrum to Dongmin’s heart. But inside, Dongmin feels like a whirlwind of thoughts with a storm that has yet to settle and desires running rampant. He doesn’t realize he’s crying again until his own sniffle awakens him from his cloudy thoughts and Dongmin brings a hand up to wet cheeks.

How thankful he is that Bin isn’t in right now. Dongmin laughs miserably to himself and sinks his face into his pillow.

Dongmin awakes with a start to the sound of thunder and a curse.

“Ah, my head,” he mumbles to himself. He blinks his eyes in the semi-darkness, now illuminated by the dim lighting of his lamp. The pain resonating from his head was prominent, and Dongmin hopes for nothing more than to fall back to painless slumber, only to be graced by the sudden appearance of Bin by his side.

“Lie back down.”

Dongmin looks with sleepy eyes at the other in drenched clothes, a mixed retort ready on his tongue to deliver.

Where have you been? Why did you leave me alone?

Are you okay? Why are you in wet clothes?

What are we? Do you like me as much as I like you?

But those thoughts are pushed to the back of Dongmin’s head as Bin pushes Dongmin back down against his pillow. Instead all that comes out is an unintelligible mutter.

“Wha-?”

“I can’t believe the one moment I’m not looking in your direction, you end up sick.”

Dongmin weakly blinks his eyes, just realizing the wet cloth on his forehead and the smell of soup and tea by his bedside. Did Bin do this all for him? Bin eyes him with mirth, chuckling as if he read Dongmin’s mind.

“Yes, silly Minnie. I came back half an hour ago but I managed to lower your fever and make soup. Aren’t you proud of me?” He’s looking at Dongmin with big, apprehensive eyes, and Dongmin feels an overwhelming flurry of emotions upon losing himself in Bin’s concerned eyes. He really wants to say thank you but however ends up coughing himself hoarse.

The cute facial expression turns stern and worried immediately, and Dongmin wants to just lean over and unfurrow Bin’s eyebrows maybe with his finger, maybe with a kiss.

If he was allowed.

“Aish, you need more rest.” Bin mutters, moving around to fluff Dongmin’s pillow and then surprising the older by removing the cloth on his forehead and leaning in unbearably close. It scary how much Bin affects him, Dongmin watches with half-lidded eyes as Bin brings his forehead to Dongmin’s heated one.

How easily the thought of meeting Bin’s lips with his flits through Dongmin’s mind, but Bin pulls back just as quickly and the thought smothers out like a pitiful flame.

“Hm, not too bad. I think a good night’s sleep will cure you by tomorrow morning.”

The words escape Dongmin’s lips before he could think about it.

“Will you be here in the morning?”

Bin’s eyes soften but he doesn’t say anything. He only bends down to Dongmin’s eye level and presses his lips against Dongmin’s forehead softly.

Sleep drags Dongmin back into its possession.

It’s the most dreadful day of Dongmin’s existence. A year ago, Dongmin had imagined spending this day with Bin and doing sappy, romantic things that couples would happily indulge in on Valentine’s Day but that was with the assumption that they would end up together and not in the current mess that Dongmin instigated two weeks ago. But instead of the luxury of soft makeout sessions with Bin, Dongmin finds himself at the front steps of his school with crestfallen eyes and a heavy heart.

He puts on a strained smile before heading towards Jinwoo who has utilized a lawn chair to further project his authority (he has always complained that his height made people look down at him even though he was the president).

“Arin, did you contact the dance team? Yes? Okay, go assist Jihye. Sanha, I need your help with this. Where’s Dojoon? Oh, Dongmin, there you are!”

The corners of Dongmin’s lips lift slightly higher, momentarily shedding his façade and unable to resist the puppy-like excitement of his friend, Jinwoo.

“Where do I go?”

Jinwoo raises an eyebrow as he steps off his self-made podium, “You sound defeated, Lee Dongmin.” Jinwoo swings the ring of keys on his pointer finger almost obnoxiously with the other hand placed on his waist, elbow akimbo and giving the president an air of business.

Dongmin wants to narrow his eyes at the misplaced playfulness of Jinwoo’s tone of voice, but he chooses to shrug instead. “Let’s get this over with.” He only deflates slightly when Jinwoo punches him in the shoulder and tells him to loosen up.

Other than that, Jinwoo doesn’t say anything in response but chooses to wordlessly lead Dongmin to the booth he’s supposed to man.

“Enjoy yourself.” He departs with a smirk, leaving Dongmin in a mess of t