A myriad of tall, muscular, impatient boys seem to rush past Taemin as he stood almost lost, in the middle of the huge, sprawling campus. He stared, wide-eyed and nervous, at the many who strutted past him, paying him the merest glance and not bothering to enquire the reason behind his evident discomfort. Taemin’s bottom lip quivered slightly, as the hostility and inherent newness of his environs glared him in the face. He wished to earnest that he could spot a friendly face, someone he could approach. He just needed someone to cling on to.

            He continued to gape, gasp and stutter, as one after the other, the overwhelming lot swung past him. He could hardly believe that most of them were probably the same age as he was. He bit his bottom lip hard, managing to create a slight tear out of which a droplet of crimson blood that almost clashed with the colour of his full lips trickled down. Taemin crossed his thin arms over his chest absentmindedly and wondered if he ought to just walk into the college and enquire after his mysterious lover with the Principal. But, even as he thought, the inherent juvenileness of the idea struck him hard. In spite of being blinded by his childish fantasies, Taemin knew that walking up to the Principal of a huge college and asking for a vague person who just happened to be his childhood sweetheart, wasn’t something most people would entertain. Taemin sighed and continued to stand still, hoping someone would lead him the way to his lover.

              “Hello there!” A nasal, almost nasty, rough voice breathed down Taemin’s neck, uncomfortably close to him. Taemin uttered an involuntary shriek and turned around, coming face to face with an unpleasant looking young man who seemed to extract pleasure out of leering at Taemin. Taemin tugged at his collar nervously and said, “Yes? Do I know you?”

“You don’t, pretty boy, but there’s no harm in knowing me; is there?” His rough tone should have been warning enough, because no sooner had he uttered those looming words when he seemed to come closer and closer to Taemin, seemingly trying to attempt something that wouldn’t exactly endear him to the constabulary. Taemin shuffled backwards fearfully, as he seemed to realise this man was up to no good. The leering man, ‘Mr. Ugly’ as Taemin had christened him mentally, extended one ugly arm to grab Taemin’s thin one. Taemin had just braced himself to give out a piercing scream, when almost theatrically, a rich, husky, mellow voice called out, “What d’you think you’re doing, Mister?”

           Taemin involuntarily gasped; not because he was relieved, but because he had heard that dulcet tone before, that flawless tenor, that fluid, rich voice. He waited for the owner of the voice to materialize, savouring the moment when he would once again set eyes upon that divine creation that had helped him up from the waters. There was no mistake, there couldn’t be! That voice had to belong to that man who had stolen Taemin’s breath away the moment he stepped out on his adventure to find his lover.

            And there he was, in flesh and blood, standing tall, proud with nothing less than a heroic stance. He seemed to fit the part of a hero with his long brown hair, strong jaw, beautiful eyes and husky voice. Taemin gaped again, unblushingly this time. He had to feast his eyes on the flawlessness before him. It was essential. Somehow, he couldn’t tear his eyes of the man swaying silently before him. Taemin let his wide eyes sweep over the other man’s lithe stature. He saw a raging anger burning in the other’s beautiful eyes and for a moment, it even escaped him that a possible lewd e was breathing down his neck. But of course, his saviour didn’t. He marched straight up to Mr. Ugly swaying dangerously close in Taemin and repeated coldly, “What do you think you’re doing?”

        Mr. Ugly backed away slowly; he seemed to know better than to pick up a fight with the towering youngster standing before him. Indeed, Taemin’s saviour seemed to be seething with a rage that knew no bounds. He waited until Mr. Ugly had scurried away, when he turned to Taemin and flashed one of those precious lovely smiles he owned, “Are you alright, Taemin?”

            Taemin nodded, rendered speechless for a moment. It had to be Fate, Taemin decided, that the same man, who looked nothing short of the quintessential redeemer had come around to rescue him from sticky spots. It seemed theatrical, to say the very least; and Taemin reddened deeply at the sight of his saviour with the beautiful voice peering worriedly at him. “I’m okay, but thank you very much; it’s the second time you’ve helped me today!” And with that, he hurriedly bowed a formal little apology. It was as though a second encounter with that man had awoken something very distant in him. Taemin felt a sudden discomfort around him; he felt this urgent need to look mature, strong and impressive. He felt as though all his inherent childishness was ridiculous. Somehow, that man before him, the one he had encountered at the fountain and the one who had rescued him from Mr. Ugly, made him feel unlike something he had ever felt before. But, beneath it all, somewhere he was pleased, awfully pleased that the divine creation before him had deigned to remember his name.

“It’s alright, Taemin. Glad to be of help, especially to someone as cute as you.” The words left Minho’s mouth smoothly, airily, so casually that Taemin almost doubted their sincerity. Taemin fought hard to keep his face from turning as crimson as his saviour’s perfect lips, as he realised he had just been paid a compliment – cute. Even as Taemin wondered if this was the usual way of speaking around here, he felt a stab of displeasure. A while ago, or perhaps even from another person, the description of him as ‘cute’ might have evicted a shy smile and a sincere note of gratitude from Taemin. But somehow, hearing that compliment slip out of that perfect being’s lips, Taemin felt indignant; annoyed to say the very least. He was annoyed not at the compliment being paid to him, but at the fact that that was the only compliment that befitted him. Taemin knew that he was cute, it was something he had been told incessantly; but hearing it out of this man’s mouth made him realise what a worthless compliment it was. He wished he could be spoken of as handsome, rugged or manly, at the very least. He wanted to be more in front of that man.

“Taemin, is everything alright?” The being asked, his beautiful, brown eyes worriedly scanned Taemin’s blank, distant visage.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. I just remembered something.” Taemin muttered hurriedly, “By the way, this is Seoul High, isn’t it?”

“Sure is; are you new around here?” The being enquired, “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Yeah, I just got here this morning from China. I used to live here, you know; until I was around five. It’s my first time coming back here since then. It’s been almost thirteen years!” Taemin mentally cursed himself as the words slipped like butter out of his nervous lips. It was always like this; whenever Taemin felt uncomfortable, or awed, or, in this case, utterly enamoured; he would begin rambling. Words would flow out relentlessly, almost as though they were spinning a web of their own, while Taemin would try his best to not make a fool of himself. “I’m sorry,” Taemin said, blushing, eventually managing to stop his wordy ramble, “I don’t usual regale my life story to strangers.”... Unless I’m in love with them.

“It’s quite alright,” The other said amusedly, “At least now I know you can talk!”

Taemin smiled nervously and said, “Gosh, I don’t even know your name!”

“Pardon me then,” The heavenly creation said handsomely, “I’m Minho.”

            It was then that it seemed to Taemin as though the world had ceased its motion, the birds had ceased their chirruping, the flowers had ceased their swaying and the wind had ceased its caressing. It seemed as though all life had come to pause to let Taemin digest the unprecedented actuality. Taemin stumbled a few steps back and wondrously stared at the godliness before him. It seemed impossible, strange to the extent of being ridiculous that the being he had been searching for had been before him all the while. It seemed implausible that the tot who had had his heart while he was a mere preschooler was the same being who had grown up to steal his heart once more. It seemed to him like Fate’s little amusement, like Destiny had had this planned just to extract some pleasure out of his bewilderment. Taemin stared for a few moments more and then felt an uncontrollable laugh erupt out of his benumbed senses. He threw his head back and laughed angelically, while Minho watched him with astonishment.

“You-you’re Minho? You were in play-playschool thirteen years back?” The questions tumbled forth from Taemin’s upturned laughing lips.

“I s’pose I was,” Minho said uncertainly, “What difference does that make?”

           Taemin shook his head, while suddenly the stark resemblance between the little lover’s picture enshrined in his mind and the divine creature before him sprang up to his eyes. It was the same person, and Taemin’s sharp eyes could see it all. The eyes, those beautiful, beautiful jewels; Taemin wondered how he didn’t make the connection before. None could have eyes as amazing as those; none but his lover. The same strong jaw, the same sharp nose; it was him, minus the childish chubbiness that used to endear his face. The smooth, silky hair, the golden brown, slightly tanned skin; it was like Minho had never changed. Taemin reproached himself for not recognizing his lover earlier. But, now that he had, the resemblance couldn’t have been more evident.

             Taemin rushed towards Minho, unmindful of the lot walking past them and flung his bony arms around the other’s muscular frame. He rested his head on Minho’s broad shoulder, soaking himself in the other’s comforting scent. He didn’t care that the people around him would stop and stare. He didn’t care that he was embracing a virtual stranger. All he cared about was the simple truth that he had found his Minho and he needed to have him close. “After so many years, Minho, I finally found you.”

        Taemin felt two sinewy arms gently untangle him from his sloppy embrace and he found himself being pushed back, not unkindly. Minho’s glinting eyes stared at him concernedly and he said, almost sadly, “I don’t think we’ve met before. Are you confusing me with someone else?”

          Taemin shook his head decidedly and said, “I’m Taemin, Minho! Taemin! Don’t you remember me?”

           Minho mouthed the other boy’s name almost involuntarily – Taemin. He was struck anew by how familiar the name sounded, how it lolled around in his mouth just as though he had known the name for ages. But on the other hand, Minho knew that he wouldn’t forget a boy as beautiful as the one before him. It wasn’t a joke – Taemin was beautiful. There was no other word to describe him. He was beautiful, ethereally, surreally beautiful. He was unlike anyone Minho had ever met and he knew however weak his memory was, he wasn’t likely to forget someone as amazing as him.

“I’m sorry; I can’t seem to recollect you. Where exactly have we met?” Minho ventured cautiously.

Taemin gaped a little, and then seemingly gaining back some of his resolution said as clearly as a sane man could, “Minho, you must remember me! We kissed in playschool!”

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A/N: /facepalm
Can my story get any more cliche? Yikes, well I hope you'll enjoy it. This chapter was unbearably hard to read, IDK why. Ugh, I wrote, I erased, I wrote again. I wasn't even sure if I wanted Taemin to tell Minho that 'they kissed in playschool', but I did in the end. 

Sigh, if you have some criticism, bombard it at me. I need it. Also, I'm really, really, really sorry for updating so late. I promise from now on the updates will be regular...sort of. XD

While you're at it, I suggest you check out - Kindergarten Love Story It's a very cute story and the author is amazing! :D Do check it out~

Oh, I forgot to tell you; I love you all! :D