ONE.

Wednesday, 24th January

It was 3:59 pm, every few seconds Jongin would check his wristwatch, another of his restored antiques, each time disappointed that it had barely changed since the last glance. This happened every Wednesday before the clock struck 4:00 pm, Jongin would be slouched, elbows prodded up behind the desk holding his scrunched-up face; eyes locked onto the entrance. Specifically waiting for that one particular boy, short in size with flawless olive skin contrasting to his raven black hair which would always be straightened flat against his forehead no strand out of place, to walk in with his arms full of textbooks.

Jongin, as a general rule, hid his emotions. Any day that wasn’t a Wednesday he wore a blank mask because he never had a reason for smiling. However, days like these which happened to be a Wednesday his favourite day of the week; his façade crumbles and that’s when he finds it extremely hard to contain his happiness and excitement, rolling his lips into a straight line to hide his illuminating smile.

He’d lost count at how many times he’d sighed, if any of his co-workers witnessed him in this position they’d scold and moan he was slacking off but he’d fire back with, “There’s nothing to do anyway”. Let’s be real he was working part-time in a library there aren’t many jobs that need to be catered to around here. Just the usual put the books that were left out back on the shelf, scan the books the customers want to take out or help anyone whose troubled. Other than that, Jongin found himself lounging on the counter (if no one was around) or uncomfortably sitting on the bottom step of the ladders in one of the isles.

Jongin hadn’t always worked in a library, money has never been a problem in the Kim’s household, but his mother’s constant moans were. ‘Nini, when was the last time you cleaned your room?’ ‘Nini, how long have those plates been lying on the floor? Go and wash them immediately!’ ‘Nini, you need a job!’.  She gets loud, vents, blows off her steam every time she finds him lounged on the sofa doing ‘nothing’ he used to get loud back, right in her face but to be honest it was more hassle than it was worth. So, now he smirks and says “Are you done? I have to go work.”

And don’t remind him of the nickname, he’s continuously told her to stop using that, claiming he wasn’t a child anymore and wanted to be treated as an adult.

After what seemed like decades, the peace was shattered by the sound of the bell announcing a new person has entered. Jongin nearly leapt over the desk when his eyes encountered the man of his dreams, but he learned to control his actions and bit his bottom lip instead. What captured him today was his tousled hair spiking left, right and centre and the red tint on his cheeks; the wind had been on a craze the past week.

He had himself wrapped up in a waterproof coat that trailed down below his knees. To no surprise his arms were stacked with books; also adding extra weight was the huge backpack he carried on his back. Curiosity would spiral around Jongins head sometimes, desperately wanting to know what the hell he was hiding in there.

The short boy trotted in closing the door behind him and headed for the same table and chair he always sat on; it should have his cheeks imprinted on it or his name permanently written on the back.

Jongins eyes followed to the exact space the boy was moving his little legs too. As quietly as he could the boy gently put the books on the table with a little thud. Earning a quick glare from the male on the opposite table, the boy bowed his head as a silent apology. Jongin wanted to punch him, throw him out, do something to stick up for the boy but he didn’t he couldn’t. This is what being shy does, it paralyzes you.

Unclenching his fist, his stare remained on the now seated boy, Jongin thanked the gods that he sat with his face in full view for Jongin to drool over. He could tell the small boy was already in full concentration zone by the way his dark eyebrows slopped downwards in a serious expression. Fast hand movements as he quickly jotted down notes from his previously stacked books which were now scattered across his working space.

This was usually how the routine went, the boy would come in take his seat right in the corner at the back of the room far away from any disturbances and studies until the library is just about to lock its doors. The corners of Jongins mouth slipped up into a grin as he watched the boys tongue slowly peek out properly trying to figure out the answer to a question.

Faint coughs could be heard beside him but he ignored them because what he was looking at was way more important. But the coughs didn’t stop, in fact, they got louder until a loud slam echoed throughout the library slapping him out of his trance.

He whipped his head around and his eyes met a furious woman, in between them both three thick old-fashioned books waiting to be scanned. The smile was soon wiped off his face and instead replaced with an apologetic look. As he grasped the book on top he flashed a quick gaze around the room to check if anyone had witnessed what was happening. That’s when he felt his heart do a thousand summersaults repeatedly. Dark brown owl-like eyes, fluttering his thick pair of eyelashes, were staring right back at him. A smile crept on the boy’s face and the air grew thick with tenderness. It was only a small smile but it was enough to make him go weak at the knees.

He didn’t even get the chance to smile back when something hard collided with his head.

“Jongin, are you slacking again?” he gave her a puzzling stare rubbing his now pounding head, “How many times do I have to remind you this is work, not a place to stare at boys” both her eyebrows rose and he copied. A long sigh escaped , he was defiantly getting ‘the talk’ later on. “There’s a pile of books down aisle four go and put them back on the shelves, while I serve this customer” with a thud he put the book back on the desk and did as he was told.

Isle four was on the other side of the library, he gritted his teeth in annoyance, he swore she did this on purpose. Sending him further away from his beautiful distraction. When he saw the stack of books he physically wanted to throw himself off a bridge. It wasn’t just a pile, not just a few books but numerous trolleys full that’d defiantly take him over an hour or two.

The library was huge, row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward placed in alphabetical order. Jongin searched inside and out of every aisle to put the books back in their homes. That’s until his body uncontrollably moved back to the study area where the boy was, the textbooks that were spread before were now packed inside his backpack. He was now occupied with a scruffy book, a diary maybe, he wasn’t sure since he was a bit of a distance away.

Jongin had always adored his side profile, it was a view he saw more frequently than his whole face. He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. He liked how his nose was small and slender but rounded at the tip. How he’d occasionally bite down on his bottom lip when he was thinking hard. Of course, he’d thought about kissing those lips as strange as that sounds, but he’s never seen a pair of lips so red, so plump, so kissable.

He was certain many girls and boys have defiantly asked him out, which brought back a question he didn’t want the answer to; is he single? I guess it’ll always stay unknown because no way did Jongin have the courage to ask him.

In fact, he’d only ever spoke to him once and that was to say, ‘Thank you’ Jongin had his arms full of books and he was struggling to pick the last one up without toppling the ones he was carrying over. The boy saw this as an opportunity to help him out, so he came from behind Jongin, that alone was enough to drop all the books and as embarrassing as that sounds it happened. Every book went down with a bump, Jongin gasped and fell to his knees to hurriedly pick them back up. But his breath hitched when he saw dainty long fingers reaching out to assist.

When the floor was clean of any books, a deep, strong voice broke the silence between them “Sorry about that” followed by a genuinely sweet smile and cheeks blushed bright red identical to Jongins. He wished he said more, but Jongin mumbled and quiet ‘Thank you’ and spun on his heels heading in the other direction.

It wasn’t the first time he heard him speak, there have been many occasions Jongin hid behind the bookshelf to listen in on his phone calls. His voice was unexpected. It was low, with an agreeable trace of huskiness and with a hint of more power than the frail body would suggest. On the outside, he resembled an angel but his voice said otherwise and Jongin liked that. That same day, he found out his name; Kyungsoo. His name rolled off his tongue like a marble rolling around the floor. He couldn't get it out of his head, he’d repeat it now and then as if he’d wake up one day and forget. He was so handsome, and his name was a piece of art. It was perfect.

“Excuse me” a high-pitched voice whispered, Jongin turned away from Kyungsoo and met eyes with a girl she had long platinum blonde hair; curled at the tips, her full fringe covering a small portion of her eyes. He watched as she rummaged through her pink bag she hung off her shoulder and pulling out a pink folded piece of paper no crinkle in sight. “For you.”

“This isn’t what I th