Extremely tired from the lack of sleep you got last night, you woke up this morning, for the first time in years, worrying about having enough concealer in your possession to cover the surely visible bags lining your heavy eyes.

As if on repeat, images of Hansung’s prince, their beast, the birthday invitations, and everything else kept popping in your head, keeping you up. What’s more, the whole situation with Suho only added to your already chaotic thoughts.

You’ve recently discovered his number in your contact list and despite wanting to, you’ve fought off every urge that tempted you to call him. “What is there left to say anyway?” became your mentality. And since he won’t attend any of his classes today, nor will he tomorrow, and the following days until next year, the only thing left for you to do is accept that you’ve already said your goodbyes.

Maybe.

|| …………. ||

Frustrated, you set your phone on vibrate and carelessly toss it to the very bottom of your bag. You put your head down on the cold laminated desk and stare blankly ahead, mentally blurring out the sea of students in front of you. Despite it being your favorite class, today’s lecture feels dry, the quiet noises are deafening, and time is going by slowly...too slowly. With this gloomy cloud enveloping you, the best thing to do is get out.

And so with a heavy sigh, you sluggishly close your book, pack up your things, and stand up, causing the soft laughter around the room to cease.

Everyone turns to face you, including your stunned cultural management professor who was in the middle of telling another one of his amusing life experiences.

Upon laying eyes on the single body poking out from the rest, your professor takes a silent yet obvious gulp. Teaching in a school for the privilege has its perks—unfathomable benefits that even doctors and lawyers envy—but those benefits can easily disappear with the slightest sign of disapproval from Korea’s future business leader. “Mi Young-ssi?” he asks nervously after catching a glimpse of your seemingly annoyed expression, “Is—is everything alright?”

Though you wanted to assure him his teaching position is secure, you simply have no energy for words. You lethargically dip to a half bow and meet his anxious eyes, ignoring his question. “Please excuse me,” you tell him quietly as you head for the auditorium’s double doors, leaving the entire room speechless.

|| …………. ||

After secretly hailing a cab and telling the driver to drop you off somewhere far from the university grounds, you find yourself blindly walking down a foreign yet oddly recognizable street, unsure of where your sudden adventure—or rather, escape—will lead you.

Letting your subconscious take the reins, you soon find yourself in front of a familiar black iron gate sprawled wide open. For what seemed like hours, you watch a continuous line of uniformed men with their large containers disappear inside the moving truck parked outside a traditional house. They reappear empty handed, wiping away beads of sweat from their forehead, before disappearing once more behind the gate for another haul.

The black iron gate, that traditional house, this moving truck…

Ga Mi Young, are you crazy? What have you done? You silently lecture yourself, lightly hitting the side of your head with a fisted hand. Of all the places you could have wandered off to, why—

“Excuse me miss,” a voice interrupts. “Can I help you?” the middle-aged man asks as he walks toward your direction, dusting his hands.

“Eh? Uh—ah…an—annyeonghaseyo,” you begin, panicked, “I—”

“Mi Young-ssi?” a second, more recognizable voice, interjects from not so far away.

The two of you to turn your attention towards the gate where Suho stands frozen with a load of boxes in hand. He wasn’t expecting anyone today, especially you. In fact, with all the hurtful words and cold gestures he has thrown your way the past few days, you’re the last person he expects to see.

It takes him a moment, but after overcoming the shock, he makes his way to you and his father. And as he comes to a stop, you meet his gaze, holding onto to them, while a dumbstruck dad stares at his son, then at you, then back at Suho.

Just now realizing who you are—the girl who his son has been happily talking about for some time now—Suho’s dad takes the boxes from his eldest’s arms and gives him a slight nod. “Why don’t you show her around the neighborhood?” he suggests, ultimately hinting to the both of you to find some place quiet to talk.

After excusing yourselves, Suho quietly leads you to a nearby park, picking a spot under an empty gazebo. With some distance in between, the two of you sit in awkward silence, making you regret that you ended up at his house even more.

“Mi Young-ssi,” Suho begins, finally breaking the stillness. He momentarily sets his eyes to the concrete ground, hiding the sadness visible in them, before meeting your gaze with that same charming and sweet smile he used to send your way, “How would you like to escape to a snow country with me?”

“Eh?” you breathe out, confused.

His smile widens at the sight of your expression. And without clarifying his question, Suho stands up and walks a couple of feet away, keeping his back towards you.

Unsure of what he’s thinking, you call to him, only to be met with the unexpected. “Sunbae?”

"I like you," he confesses with a confident yet gentle voice. After taking a moment to calm his racing heart, he turns around and faces you, flashing another soft smile.

“Suho-ssi…” you manage to say as you slowly get up from your seat and walk to him.

Suho meets your gaze and brushes your pink stained cheek before taking you into his arms in a light embrace. “I don't know when it happened or how it happened, but I've come to really like you, Mi Young," he repeats, softly whispering those words in your ea