|Chapter Six|

That same day, not only did Jong-in show up late for their tutoring session, he was being a total pain in the for Mone. He kept wandering his eyes elsewhere, disregarding her entire lesson; the tapping sounds he made with his fingers distracted her from anything; and to further conclude, he began to hum halfway throughout her lecture.

"Yah!"

"Buya?!" he snapped back, frustrated Mone had torn down his surreal daydreaming.
"Can you pay attention!?"
"I don't want to!" he cried back, rolling his eyes. He ed out his lips into a childish pout, and narrowed his eyes at her. Mone lingered her gaze on his luscious lips for a moment before snapping her attention elsewhere. The boy's looks were dangerous, she'll give him that. "You have a test coming up next week," she declared. "You need to prepare!"
"I don't want to!" he demurred again. She let out a sigh in response. 

"Fine," she caved. "Do whatever you want. I don't care anymore." She began to pack up her belongings when Jong-in's tight grip laced around her slender wrist. "Buya?" she demanded, eyeing him with scorn.
"Mianhe," he uttered carelessly. "I'm just distracted with the school's showcase coming up. I'm worried about English, yeah, but.. I should be practicing right now, too," he confessed.

Mone sighed. "Just go," she breathed in disbelief. She waved her arm carelesly to dismiss him, but he didn't move an inch. "I'm going to ask you a question," he stated bluntly. His dark gaze was now focused on her, and his coal-coloured eyes bored into her own. She felt herself slightly drowning in the mysterious, dark abyss of his pupils. She inched back, feeling slightly intimidated, but nevertheless cocked a brow for him to continue.

"Why do you even bother to help me?"
Mone smiled timidly for a second before lifting her gaze from her hands to Jong-in. "Because.." she trailed, "..who else would help you?" She smiled, watching his eyebrows knit close together, evidently showing his confusion in her vague and ubiquitous reply. "I mean, yeah, I was requested, since you were asking for the best tutor.. and I'm not in a position to argue with my teachers.. but to be honest, I know I don't have to, but if I didn't give in to the idea of tutoring you, no one else would've done it," she explained casually. She gave her shoulders a small, nonchalant shrug. "And you would've gotten kicked out because of your failing grade; if that had happened, I would've been to blame partially because I refused to help you out," she grinned. "So don't worry. I'm doing it out of selfish reasons!"
She didn't expect much of a reply, but when Jong-in broke out into a grin, her breath hitched slightly. She wasn't going to deny that she thought he was attractive, but it was just too breathtaking too see that his lips could actually curve into a smile that wide. "Goh mah woh," he murmured. "It means a lot to me to be able to come here," he further explained. "So thank you."
Mone caught an unidentifiable glint in his eyes, but to her, it sparked as a solemn kind of gaze. She took note at how his shoulders were now slightly slumped, and how when he let out a small, pathetic laugh at that moment, he winced. Mone also noticed that he tried to cover up the wince by clearing his throat and massaging his shoulders, saying, "Geez, I'm all sore from working out."

She could've laughed, but she realized, this was something different from their usual encounters with each other. "You may not like me, and I may not be too fond of you," she spoke suddenly, eyeing her pencil. "But that doesn't mean you aren't a human being as well." The pencil in her hand suddenly seemed to spark an interest in her, but it was only because she didn't want to feel small under those undermearing eyes again. She didn't want to feel herself get lost in his curious gaze. Why her stomach was churning right now, she couldn't explain. So she kept talking to distract her aimless mind. "If you're tired, take a rest. Don't over-exert yourself to the point you snap your back and hurt yourself," she muttered.
She still didn't have the courage to face him, so she let her eyes wander to the whiteboard ahead of them. "Kai-shii.. don't get hurt anymore. If this keeps going, you might not be able to ever dance again," she whispered. By now, she had caught a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye, to find that he was staring at her with a wondrous look, pondering what she meant, and why she was saying these words.

Withal, she expected him to laugh, or snort, but instead, when she heard him sigh, a restless turn occurred in her stomach, and her mind began to race. She undermined herself, calling herself a pabbo for actually trying to create a sentimental moment between them.

"Araseo," he spoke, smiling casually at her as if they were true friends. "Goh mah woh."

Nothing between them is ever going to be the same now.

The next morning, Mone arrived to school with Myung Dae packed closely to her side. Mone looked around, eyeing the emptiness that evaded the perimeters of campus. "We came really early today," she pouted. "Might as well study-"
"Andwae!" Myung Dae cried, snatching her books out of her hands. "You're going to take a break from all that reading and note-taking and studying! You're going to relax and take a break for at least half an hour this fine morning!"
"So what am I supposed to do? Watch the trees in the courtyard grow?" she scoffed. "Hand me my books!"
"Andwae!"

"Kang Myung Dae!"
"Ohh, bringing in the surname, too!" Myung Dae cooed immaturely. He waved her finger at her condescendingly, smirking. "You're gonna come into the studio with me," he leered. "To watch."
"Watch what? Who's even here this early in the morning? We have about an hour and a half till class starts." Mone let out a rude snort, trying to catch her books in Myung Dae's waving arms.
"EXO!" he cried jubilantly, wrapping his fingers around her petite wrist. He broke out into a jog, forcing Mone to tag along, matching his long, wide gaits.

"Ex-who?" Mone inquired. She blinked as she came close to the performing arts department. "Andwae," she objected suddenly. "Andwae, andwae, andwae, Myung Dae-ah!"
"Noona!" Myung Dae whined. "Please? Just for a second! Jebahl, just watch them do one number, and I'll let you study your stats and Economics and all that boring jazz!"

She had to time to object; Myung Dae was already bursting through the appointed studio room. She was huffing and her hair was in slight array, due to running against the breezes. She knew she looked unpresentable, and she immediately regretted now taking Gym seriously before. And as she looked up to meet twelve questioning gazes facing her, she caught eye of one familiar boy. He smirked, upon seeing her. And Myung Dae grinned.

"So this is the sister you always fawn over?"

Myung Dae nodded at one of his hyungs. "Noona," he called out cheerfully. "Meet Exo! One of my favorite kingka groups to hang with!"

Mone by now, had regained her chic composure; she fixed her glasses momentarily and eyed the foreign boys from the performing arts department, shooting them all an acid smile. "Annyeong."

"Yah!"

Mone twitched as she felt Jong-in's foot nudge her thigh. She was trying to lounge casually on the floor, but his tempting gestures weren't helping her keep her calm. Her cool exterior was slowly degrading, and Jong-in was to blame. "Yah!"
"Wae?" Mone whined, pouting at her elder. Jong-in looked down on her, an aggravated look reflecting in his eyes. 
"What do you mean 'wae'?" he barked. "Why are you here?"
"I can't be?"

"Aniyo!" he retorted. Jong-in gritted his teeth, stifling the growl itching to pertrude his throat. "I can't focus with you gawking over us like that," he remarked. And the realization dawned on Mone that it seems he has forgotten their moment from yesterday in the English classroom. "So it's gonna be like that?" she whispered to herself.
She rose to her feet without a doubt and stood up in front of Jong-in, glaring menacingly at the ravenette. "I'll leave-"

"No, don't do that!"

Mone turned her glance and smiled at the familiar voice. "Mianhe, Lu Han-oppa.. but I'm not going to be where I am not wanted."
"We want you here."
"Kris-hyung!" Jong-in objected suddenly.
"Hyung, you're probably the only one fretting over her presence; to be honest it's quite refreshing-"

"Sehun-ah, shut up!" Jong-in scowled at Mone. "And yah! Addressing everyone else as oppa but me? Where's the respect in that?"
"I thought I was being respectful by calling you Kai-shii," Mone barked back in response. "You seem so uptight with honorifics, so I just thought I might as well use the most formal type of suffix when addressing you, aish.. this guy," she muttered.

"Just let her stay, Kai-hyung."

Jong-in's frightening gaze rested upon Sehun for a second before mumbling incoherent words under his breath. "Just don't get in the way," he told Mone.
"Like I even want to be anywhere near you anyways," she drawled. "I'm just here because my brother is keeping my textbooks hostage and won't give them back until a half hour's passed!"
Jong-in scoffed, "Whatever."

Throughout their routine, in preparation for the upcoming showcase being held by the Board Members of Seoul Elite, Mone had her glare set on one particular boy that was centered throughout the entire number. She did whatever she could to make it seem intimidating, but her doe-like eyes hindered in her way of trying to do so. Her trying to make her glare seem scary was like as impossible as a fish trying to make dinosaur noises. However, her playful, stubborn demeanor dropped the second a thud echoed across the spacious studio.
The bang sounded, ringing through her ears; it brought her to her feet immediately, and before she could recollect and lucid thoughts, she found herself situated at the center of the room, hunching over Jong-in's fallen body.
He was panting, and very much conscious, but it was also obvious that he was in great pain. "You can't get up?" she catechized frantically.

He shook his head, wincing at the pain repeatedly bouncing throughout his back. Mone's eyes shifted back and forth, shuffling through the contents of her brain for any possible ways to solve this efficiently. Mone, think. Think! You learned this in Sports Med... think Anatomy, think Biology, think, think.

It clicked inside her brain instantaneously.

"Lay him on his stomach, get some gauze, Vaseline if you have any, if not something that can cool down the temperature of his skin, like a Icy-Hot applicant, or maybe a Benadryl cooling gel. Then, get me two towels -- wet one with ice-cold water, and another dry."

All this while, Mone was suddenly glad she could be of some use for the boys. The helpless, panicky looks in all their eyes reminded her that they were as normal as they come, if not, then as vulnerable as can be.
But seeing as how they were the popular kings of the school, it could've slipped her mind. She wasn't going to let that happen again.

All this time, Jong-in was fighting to keep the winces hidden; he tried his best not to cry out in pain, and tried to endure the agonizing throbs that hit him like tidal waves. He wanted to keep his tough image in front of his hyungs, dongsaengs, and in front of Mone. He wasn't going to something as stupid as a back injury deflate his ego or image.

"Yah," Mone cried, messaging his with Vaseline. Jong-in failed to notice the blush swept across her cheeks. He just kept his gaze focused on the hardwood floors in front of him, and quietly moaned at the cooling sensation hitting his back as Mone rubbed the cooling gel onto him.

Mone clicked her tongue - behind her actions, there was a mixture of disappointment and a blend of disbelief. "I thought I told you not to get hurt anymore," she whispered to him. "Pabbo," she added stubbornly, wrapping his upper torso with a gauze as Kris and Tao held him up.

"You okay?" she questioned hopefully, staring into his pained eyes. However, instead of giving her a thanks and expressing his gratitude as he should've, Jong-in simply grunted, rising to his feet much too quickly for his own good, and stormed out of the practice room, shirtless and obviously enraged over something.

Mone looked after him, almost too longingly for her own good and her lips apprehensively. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong here?" she wondered out loud, eyeing the twelve boys in front of her. Myung Dae spoke up first. 

"He's like that, noona.. you can't expect him to be predictable.. he's just.. Kai-hyung, I guess."

She wasn't disheartened, or shot down; she wasn't like his fangirls who would get hurt over being glared at. If anything, she's grown immune to that petty glare of his; she's also immune to his witty remarks, scowls, scoffs, and snorts. She just wanted to figure out why, out of all the times he could, he shot her down at this particular moment, where she helped him out when he needed her most -- involuntarily and under lots of pressure, she did all that for him, and all she earned was a rude grunt and him storming out the door like he was mad at her for helping him.

It made her wonder, suddenly, on a deeper level of who her English student really was. And at that short moment, for just a second, she forgot she was his tutor, and began to worry about his well being.