Quiet music reached his ears accompanied by a low, tired groan.

Jeon Wonwoo scrunched up his nose at the disturbance and turned around, face still buried in the pillow. It smelled nice, fruity and vaguely sweet. A slight ache had settled into his hip since the mattress he was currently lying on was rather hard and uncomfortable.

It took Wonwoo's hazy mind a moment to conclude that this was definitely not his bed. And that it wasn't his sofa either.

The pillow's smell had a feminine touch; some sort of perfume, maybe? Or shampoo? Had he ended up in a love hotel somehow?

The first thing Wonwoo saw when he opened his eyes was dark brown hair. He sat up, perplexed, but it kept hanging in front of his eyes and got caught in his lashes, obscuring his vision. For a moment, all he did was stare blankly - until a strand loosened and stabbed him in right in the eyeball. His hand flew to his face with a curse.

"Urgh. Morning classes are the worst," a male voice suddenly groaned to his right.

Wonwoo froze in the middle of rubbing his eye and his bewildered expression immediately hardened into his usual mask of aloofness while thoughts began whirring through his head.

Why was there a man in the room? He didn't recognize the voice. He couldn't pinpoint his surroundings either. What was going on?

After pushing his bothersome fringe out of the way, Wonwoo caught sight of a completely unfamiliar yet nonetheless strangely familiar room with twin beds, two desks and two wardrobes. The walls were covered with posters of bands and he could make out a wild mess of shoes in one corner as well as several small piles of clothes scattered throughout the small room.

In the bed opposite the one he was currently sitting in lay a young man whom he had never seen before. The stranger was around his age and sported blond hair and blue pyjamas. His pillow had left a red imprint on his cheek and based on the death grip he had on his red blanket, he seemed to contemplate whether to sleep a bit longer.

Wonwoo never minced his words: "Who the hell are you?"

The stranger's eyes flew open at the sound of his frigid voice, visibly startled. "Huh? Are you alright?" he asked, brows knitting in concern.

"Where am I?" Wonwoo returned his question with a question of his own.

The young man looked more and more confused with each passing second but he answered anyway when the silence between them kept stretching. "Uh... in our room? You know, the one we've been sharing for, like, two months?"

Wonwoo's brows furrowed. He was dead certain that he had never shared a room with anyone before - how could he? He hated it when other people went near his stuff, much less touched it. Not even his maid was allowed to set foot into his bedroom. Furthermore, messiness was something he couldn't tolerate. At all.

His eyes once again flitted over the pile of shoes, the cluttered desks, discarded clothes and the crooked posters. This room alone was enough to make his body itch.

"Mingyu, are you okay?"

The stranger in the other bed had sat up as well by now; a look of genuine worry was painting his features.

Mingyu?

Wonwoo stared at him, pierced him with his glare, made him fidget uncomfortably, but instead of spilling the beans, the other male's eyes widened after a glance at his phone before he leapt to his feet. ", I'm late! Just stay in bed until you're better, alright? I'll sign the attendance sheet for you!" And with those words, he grabbed some clothes from a pile at the foot of his bed and flew through a door that apparently led to a bathroom.

Wonwoo remained seated, trying to make sense of what was happening. After some careful deliberation, he came to the conclusion that he was dreaming.

Why else would he end up in an unfamiliar room and get mistaken for someone else?

This conclusion helped a little to soothe his high-strung nerves.

A look around told him that this was clearly one of the dormitories of his university - while he had never lived in