Stopping midway on the stairs, Mino stares at the text his professor sent to him. Then rubs his face, with a heavy sigh on his lips.

Another reminder of his project. Demand for progress. 

Hah, Mino scoffs, what to report when there's no progress at all? The canvas is left untouched in the studio for a month now, almost forgotten in the wake of pressure from final year. Still pure, void of colours.

Sometimes he even ponders if he made the right choice to continue fine arts. Arts are his passion, yes, but he's not ready to accept it as his career.

Mino doesn't want to lose his passion for arts just like what he's experiencing now—an obligation instead of a way to escape from this world.

Well, no use to dwell on it at the moment. Mino skips the rest of the four steps in two hops, eager to leave his brooding thoughts behind.

A distraction, he needs a distraction. 

—Aha!

After exchanging texts, Mino sprints off.

The librarian gives him a look when Mino walks through the door with ragged breaths. Mino offers a grin. She rolls her eyes behind the round glasses then returns to the computer. Mino goes to the elevator.

Instead of finding Seungyoon at his usual spot on the stairs, Mino finds him on the self-study section on the 3rd floor. Seungyoon is tucked in a corner hunching over a single desk, a common sight to stumble upon. Mino wonders if it's just Seungyoon's habit to stay out of anyone's radar.

"Hating the stairs this time?" Mino asks by way of greeting.

Seungyoon tilts his head up slightly. "I need to submit this assignment by tomorrow morning."

"Whoa." Mino peers at the cluttered notes on the desk. He takes one of the papers and squints at the wall of words. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. "What the is this —eww, words."

"That's funny coming from a master of wordplay like you." Seungyoon returns to his assignment.

Mino puts the paper back on the table. "My wordplay has a purpose; to get girls and guys alike. What is the purpose of those words you write?"

"Marks. Grade. Graduation. Really."

"Point." Mino steals a vacant chair from the neighbouring table. "Still disgusting, though."

Seungyoon rests his cheek on his propped up hand, glancing sideways at him as Mino plops down in the chair. Seungyoon huffs, "Are you here just to bother me?"

"I need a distraction."

"From what."

"Stuff."

Seungyoon stares but doesn't push. He goes back to his papers. "Do whatever you want. Just don't bother me."

"But you're the distraction~!" Mino whines.

"You should bother your hyungs, then." Seungyoon is unperturbed.

"Hoonie-hyung got a class. Jinu-hyung is scary when Hoonie-hyung isn't around. C'mon, distract me!"

"I have work to do."

"Heartless!" Mino half shouts.

"Pipe it down. We're in the library." Seungyoon hisses, then—because he's heartless as , that Seungyoon, Mino curses—writes another note in his book.

Despite himself, Mino respects Seungyoon's wish. He produces his sketchbook from his bag and starts doodling. It works for the first 15 minutes, but boredom gets the best of him. Mino sinks into the chair, the sketchbook over his face.

"I'm bored," he groans out.

"It's not even 30 minutes," Seungyoon replies, his tone dry, scribbling across the paper.

"Told you; I need a distraction."

"Good luck."

Mino huffs into the book. The warm breath puffs back to his face. He pulls the book down to the bridge of his nose and peeks at Seungyoon. Seungyoon is going through an excerpt in the book, his left hand occupied with a paper. 

Uh oh, his fingers are all red, Mino notes. Sensitive to the cold temperature, maybe? Mino looks up at the ceiling—no, they aren't seated directly under the air-conditioner. So...

"Hey, lend me your left hand," Mino says suddenly, scooting his chair closer to Seungyoon's.

Seungyoon pauses. "Huh?"

Mino knows that look. He makes a face. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

Seungyoon keeps a straight look. "I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to—your face implies it. Whatever. Just lend me your left hand. I swear I won't do anything weird with your hand." Mino offers his hand to Seungyoon.

Seungyoon is skeptical but does as he's asked nonetheless. He warns, "We're in open space."

"You have to make it weird, don't you?" Mino rests his sketchbook on his drawn-up knees and places Seungyoon's hand on it. He takes his pencil perched on his right ear. "Be still."

"What are you—oh."

Mino traces Seungyoon's hand with a faint line, careful and gentle. Like the rest of him, Seungyoon's fingers are long. His fingernails are well trimmed. Mino notices how his skin turns white when he presses down on it. He's no genius, but he knows it's due to blood flow. It shouldn't be too much red, though.

"Your hand is all red," Mino remarks aloud as he traces down the ring finger.

"So have I noticed."

"Why?"

"No idea. Been like that since forever."

"Medical condition?"

"Doc said it was normal."

"Oh." When he finishes the