“…to give three conferences regarding the topic of our class, primarily to reach the masses about our purpose and the purpose of this university. It is your obligation to…”

Nobody else noticed, but one student had stopped writing the requirements the professor was narrating. After a few more minutes of listening to the woman give out details of their next big project and the dates each of them would be giving it, he stood up without a word and left the room. No one paid attention to that; they were too busy asking questions and clarifying doubts of their assignment.

No one, but one. He had been observing him for a while, and once the screech of the chair being moved reached his ears, he knew he had a call to make. Something told him that he wouldn’t be back at all.

-

“…left all his thing here, even his phone.”

“Ah, thanks Jinki-ah. I’ll find him.”

It took Taemin 20 minutes to find Minho. 20 minutes because the sports complex was a bit far from the academic buildings and walking up there was a bit of a chore. Which wasn’t surprising that Minho had gotten there so fast, only athletes had that type of stamina. Even a former one.

“What are you doing here?” Taemin asked, feeling utterly small walking across the empty basketball court. Who he was looking for was at the very top of the row of seats, looking tiny and hidden but Taemin could see him. And with them two being the only souls in the court, Taemin knew he heard him just well.

There was no answer, and upon reaching his row of seats there was still no answer. Taemin stood at the very start of it, while Minho was sitting at the very end of the row and he did not say a word, he just looked at Taemin with bored eyes. “Hey,”

“What?” Minho said, sounding calm but Taemin felt he was anything but. Still, he did not say anything, it wouldn’t help anyways. Instead, he walked closer, not taking his eyes off Minho’s and sat next to him.

Taemin sighed contently, looking at Minho from head to toe. The man maintained the eye contact for a few more seconds before staring back to the floor. Taemin’s ears caught the sound of rubber slightly slapping something and his eyebrows slightly furrowed upon seeing Minho’s hand stretching a red rubber band that he was wearing as a bracelet, and letting it collide with his wrist. From the redness of his skin, Taemin guessed he’s been doing that repeatedly. “You alright?” He asked, quietly, knowing Minho would answer.

“I’m fine.”

He was anxious. Taemin knew. But sometimes, people feel worse when you say it to them instead of letting them vocalize it themselves. But that’s fine, Taemin is patient. While he waits for Minho to think things on his own, Taemin takes his hand in his own, because Taemin may be patient but Minho’s skin isn’t. He won’t let him bruise himself.

After what felt like hours and was actually… Taemin isn’t sure. He wasn’t paying attention to the time. He shouldn’t, in moments like this. Minho’s hand finally held Taemin’s back. He was ready to talk. “I really want to drop out.”

“Huh?” Taemin was confused.

“T