A:N/ Aigoo, you guys are so friendly, commenting all the time! I'm really excited about this chapter, I just love Jaejoong when he....Well...I think you'll know what I mean when you read the chapter! Hope you like it too!

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The slap had been completely unexpected.

It had come as such a shock, at first Jaejoong wasn't sure if it had really happened, but mere milliseconds later, the warmth; the heat that accompanied the blow flared, and he realised how much it hurt.

He'd taken a unit the previous year, regarding the body's responses to illness and disease. He knew that the likely reddened skin from the blow, as well as the warmth he associated with the area that had been struck, came from increased blood flow to the area. He knew the pain was due to the release of chemicals such as histamine sensitising the pain receptors, in order to give an exaggerated response to the stimuli that had caused it.

But as proud as his old professor might have been to hear that the knowledge had sunk into Jaejoong's mind, he wanted to tell the man that such knowledge was meaningless.

Because it didn't tell you about just how much it hurt. It didn't tell you how to make the pain die down. In reality, that knowledge could do nothing, but explain what Jaejoong could already feel. It didn't make it any easier to deal with.

He kind of wanted to hurt his old professor the moment that little revelation sunk in.

He couldn't quite believe that such a blow could hurt him. Sure he'd grown up with sisters, and it was commonly expected that girls would slap one another when they were angry. Drawn to it's logical conclusion, that insinuated that Jaejoong was more likely to have been slapped than anything else in his squabbles with his siblings in his youth. Consequently, he should have been familiar with this sort of pain.

But his sisters were tough. Especially his middle sister. Under her tough and wholly negative influence, their fights had never been like one would have expected. Despite coming from a house full of women, Jaejoong was more used to receiving punches than slaps.

The pain was duller, and throbbed longer, and so they'd always used it as a superior weapon to slapping one another. The pain was sharp but transient.

After being used to the dull ache he'd long since come to associate with being hit, the sharp sting of a slap to his cheek came as a terrible shock. He'd have thought that he should have been made immune to this sort of pain.

The blow had been hard, or at least well placed enough to jerk his earphone out of his ear, and the pain of it's sudden removal coincided with the blow, enhancing the pain each individual area was causing him.

He rounded, angrily bewildered eyes around himself in confusion. He was in the middle of the main walkway through the university campus. Despite the unexpected dramatic act, no one seemed to notice what was going on and continued walking by; oblivious. There was only one pair of feet that had stilled anywhere near him, and so he raised his eyes to face their owner, certain that this must have been the person that had attacked him.

A girl about his own age met his gaze, and he was thoroughly confused, considering whether he'd assumed incorrectly. The way she seemed to have curled in on herself slightly, shaking as he looked at her, might have convinced him he was wrong. But her arm was still extended, even as it shook slightly due to her nerves over what she had just done. She seemed so timid, that he might have been inclined to let it go, even if he were right and she was the one that had struck him.

But then he saw her eyes.

Her eyes didn't waver, firm and full of hatred as she glared at him. She looked at him, as though she knew exactly who he were, and she had no regrets about what she had just done to him, despite the fact that they were complete strangers.

His eyes racked her form again and again. The way she was looking at him, spoke volumes of familiarity. She clearly knew who he was or who she thought he was, but he couldn't place her. He'd seen hundreds, probably even thousands of girls in his lifetime; but her face was not familiar to him. He couldn't work out what he could have possibly done to a girl he didn't know or recognise, that would anger her so much.

“Um, excuse me?” he choked, eyes looking at her as though she were insane. That was the only possible explanation of the strange girl's actions that would make any sort of sense.

“Your damn right excuse you. What did you think you were doing?” she demanded, harshly. The way her voice echoed through his ears, bouncing off of his brain matter, seemed reminiscent of something. Her voice was deeper than he was expecting for some reason; whatever he was recalling her saying having been said in a much higher tone of voice, but then again she was clearly very angry with him. It was probably because of that.

Still he couldn't place her face.

“What are you talking about? Do I know you?” he returned, seriously considering whether or not he'd be able to outrun the girl if he tried hard enough. But what if she followed him and found out where he lived? He'd rather run into this crazy girl in a public place. He didn't want to give her the opportunity to wait out the front of his house in the middle of the night, so she could drag him into some alley and murder him.

“I don't know if you know me, and quite frankly I don't really care whether you do or not. What I do care about is what you think you're playing at.” she answered, voice full of anger and eyes as hard as stone.

“I have no idea what you're going on about, you weirdo. You're not going to get anywhere by talking in circles. If you can't spit it out, I'm going.” he stipulated, arms crossing to emphasise his point.

Why did he have to be brought up with sisters? Why did he have to be taught to be patient with women? He wished he could curse his upbringing right now, but fading in and out of what this girl said could prove dangerous. She was very clearly angry with him as it was, and if he ignored her as well, she might very well castrate him.

She huffed, looking mortally offended at the way he was speaking to her, and he found himself reconsidering his earlier idea that she was insane. Considering how insane she was acting, his words had been very tame. He couldn't think of any other men that would be as patient with someone like her, as he was being right now.

Yunho certainly wouldn't have been. He would have called her whatever had come to mind and wandered off the moment she approached him. He could seriously picture Yunho muttering an “Oh my God, would you go away!” the second she'd gotten within 10 feet of him. The image made him smile, and she rounded on him once again.

“Don't you dare! I know what you're thinking. That's the same smile you wore when you were with my man. You have no right to think about Yunho like that, erase him from your mind immediately.” she demanded, eyes boring into him as though she actually expected him to jump to attention at her command.

Who was this girl?

Wait...did she just mention Yunho?

Jaejoong's eyes narrowed at the girl, with her words. “Excuse me? Yunho is not your man, and I'll think about him whenever the hell I want to. He is my boyfriend, after all.” he answered, squaring his shoulders in preparation for an all out fight.

The more she spoke at him, the more convinced he became that he knew this girl. Her irritating voice and grating personality were ringing major alarm bells in his mind. He did know her. Wait, this was that girl Seohyun; the girl at the door.

She was that girl who was convinced that she and Yunho were going to get married. The one that Yunho's parents wanted him to marry. The one Yunho didn't want to marry.

So he did know her after all. No wonder her face seemed so unfamiliar; he'd never caught so much as a glimpse of her since she was a girl; though he had heard her voice. It would have been impossible not to have heard it; she was so loud.

“Believe what you want, you sad, pathetic little fairy. Yunho has been mine for years.” Seohyun snapped irately.

“Maybe in your dreams.” Jaejoong sniggered.

She gasped, outraged at the way Jaejoong was speaking to her. She'd never heard anyone being so mean to her in her life. Of course, Yunho spoke in a similar way, but this was a guy she didn't know; this guy quite clearly meant all the mean things he was saying, while Yunho on the other hand was just using their friendship in order to speak informally. “Please! Him and I have been destined to marry since the day we first met. If anyone is dreaming, it's you when you think that Yunho's interested in someone like you.” she spat.

“Look sweetie, destiny means all as far as you and Yunho are concerned. I've been with him since before you were ever acknowledged as existing in his world.” Jaejoong informed her snidely.

“Maybe so, but unless the two of you were together back then, which is not just wrong, but also illegal, that counts for nothing. Where have you been the last three years, fairy? While you were MIA, I've been here, right beside him every step of the way.” she told him, faux-pity oozing from her every pore.

“Aww, and look what those three years have gotten you. The address of an apartment he won't let you see. An apartment that I, on the other hand, share with him. I have my own key to the place, and come and go as I wish. And if anything, Yunho wants me to stay home all the time, with him.” He chided, eyes mockingly tearing over her, “So pray do tell, where you fit into this little love nest of ours?”

Her eyes flickered slightly, having momentarily been caught off guard by the comment. She hadn't stormed over here, guns blazing expecting Jaejoong to fight back. This was supposed to be simple and straightforward. Jaejoong was supposed to cower away in fear, retreating from his undeserved place beside Yunho, returning to the nether realm from whence he came from. He was supposed to leave her to her fairytale, and relinquish her prince.

“There is no love nest between you two. Yunho isn't gay, and even if he ever were to decide to experiment a little, he could do so much better than someone like you.” she continued, her tone still strong, but something in her eyes weakening; something in her resolve cracking a little.

Jaejoong gave himself a quick glance up and down, before giving her the same once over, eyebrow raised high, “I don't know what you've been smoking, but if I'm not hot enough for him, you sure as hell won't make the cut. And I hate to break it to you, but considering it's the relationship between him and me that he talks about, considering that it's me that he's living with and sleeping with, saying that he isn't gay, just isn't going to cut it.”

Her bottom lip was wobbling slightly, a put-out look slowly creeping into her features, and Jaejoong knew she wasn't going to bother him anymore, at least for today. “Now, if that's all, I'm going.” he stated, making his way swiftly back across the campus, heading for the library, hoping he'd find Yunho there getting books for his Chinese History essay.

He swore to himself lightly as he realised she'd made him miss his favourite song on his iPod.