He throws the pile towards me. It hits my arm and the sharp corners dig into my arm's skin for a split second. I open my mouth to let out a silent gasp, but I decided to refrain from doing so. The moment is enough for my heart to shatter and my mind to reassure myself to not to worry. But I do. I worry because he has no feeling towards me.

But I shake my head again. I want to hit myself for thinking he could feel a slight bit of connection between us. How could he? He does not know who I am or what school I go to. We are complete strangers. A little tingle of heartbreak wouldn't hurt that much, and besides, it was only a little throw, right? It wouldn't mean that much anyways, it was probably an accident. 

I find the ability to breathe again and pick up the pile before passing it to the other student, leaving the bottom page on my table. Hopefully I will cheer myself up throughout the span of today's lesson and move on from the small incident. I'm absolutely sure it was nothing, at least I convince myself that.

An hour into the lecture our english teacher decided to blab on and on, I steal another quick glance at him. His precious and soft strands of delicacy falls perfectly on his head, a few strands and locks are loose and dangle here and there. It's a messy look, but it's still y, and kind of looks like bed hair. But either way, it looks absolutely perfect and even though it looks like he did nothing to it other than run his hand through it once or twice, it still shines and has the same glow only a professional hairdresser has the skill to add. 

A side fringe occupies his forehead and covers it up. The last centremetre curls perfectly in the right direction and sits in just over his eyebrows. His skin is not perfect, there are a few blemishes here and there, but I cease my complaints, because I do not have perfect skin myself and probably had more pimples than he ever had ecounted in his existence, which this fact itself explains why I feel so flawed being next to him. 

Time passes by rather slowly and I do not bother to listen during class. The balding man standing in the middle of the room rambles on about the structure of DNA and searches the room for a student that is willing to answer his question. His eyes land on me, which actually scares me for a second.

I swallow hard when he asks me a question I did not have a clue about. I do not want to embarrass myself in front of the perfect boy and sound dumb for not answering, which completely tears apart my thoughts and for a split moment, I am torn between my own thoughts and could not comprehend what I am going to do, or say.

Sitting here for at least twenty seconds while the room is engulfed in silence and all the other students shooting lasers into my body is mortifying . A simple tick tock on a pathetic clock seems so long at this moment in time, when I can probably stare at him all day long and not complain about time. But this is different, and I do not know the answer.

"Sehun, do you know?"

The hoarse voice enters my ears and is like morphine, it calms me down. The sweat that once clammed my palms now evaporates into thin air as the pressure is lifted off my shoulders. I am happy for a second, but also embarrassed that I sat there like a zoo animal for half a minute, letting other judgemental eyes think less of me. However, the feeling wears off and I look towards the teacher, now his head turned towards the figure sitting towards my right.

Sehun is calm. He does not move and only flicks his long pen sitting on top of his thumb. I didn't know he could do pen tricks. His long eyelashes cascade downwards before he blinks again and looks up at the professor. The adam's apple halfway down his neck bumps up and down once after he swallowed and begins. 

"Double helix, does not need large space to store a lot of information."

The old man nods his head, pleased with the reply. I am not surprised he knew the answer, he always does anyway. And at times, without even thinking he could probably recite contents present in an encyclopedia and not stumble once on his words, that's how perfect he's built. Sometimes I envy him. I envy how he knows every answer to every question he meets, and how he is never uncertain or unsure about, well, anything. He is always a hundred per cent stable and stands on solid ground.

And maybe that's what I admire about him. Even though he is stuck up at times and thinks he knows everything, he has direction. He has his own direction and no one is ever successful at altering his ways. When he wants something, he gets it. If he says it's right. It is always right. That's something not many of the people I've ever met acted like. He is different, and it provokes curiosity within me.

Break arrives. I sit numbly in my chair, waiting for it to be over. I never have anything to do at this time and it bores me to death, but I deal with it, because there is a slight chance he might stay. And if he stays, that means I get more time to sit next to him, and just to be present here, where he is in my sight and nothing can take him away.

A cheerful girl skips into the room while I am daydreaming. She disturbes me. Wearing short shorts that does not cover up the bottom half of the buttock's in the coming winter weather is not a good idea in my opinion, and this does not make me think higher of her in any way. In fact, I downgrade her, because unless someone is that desperate to look beautiful even on such a chilly day, they do not deserve my respect. But that does not seem to stop her from being all giddy and jumpy.

What happens next hurts me. She skips in front of Sehun and bends over, her elbows now placed on his desk in anticipation for his attention. He looks up and puts his phone down, looking at her in curiosity. I gulp, just because I don't like it when girls talk to him. I don't like anyone other than maybe the professor or his guy friends making conversation with him; it worries me in a way.

"Oppa, come tonight, okay?" Her voice in a way, is undescribably. It is crispy, like the sound you'd hear if you eat a bag of crackers and the friction caused by teeth breaking down the peices of food. It is also high pitched, and husky at the same, and occasionally would crack when she talks.

Then I hold my breath for a second. The sentence was testing how long I could hold my breath. Whatever tonight she is referring to, it makes my heart beat ten times faster and my pulse to increase. The feeling is not comfortable, and I figit in my seat while Sehun is in deep thought about the reply to the not so nice question.

"No." The low-pitched that almost could count as a growl somehow satisfies me, even though I have no connection with the event or the participants whatsoever. I let out a cool breath and my muscles relax for the time being.

The female's nose twitches, not long enough for anyone to spot the single movement, but I do, and it's times like these that I thank God for blessing me with watchful eyes. Her bottom lips proceed to stick out and she pouts, obviously not content with his answer. A sigh escapes her perked mouth and she rolls her eyes.

"Fine, go spend time with your girlfriend, Julie? Julia? Whatever, forget all of your friends then." The single word is like someone stabbing pins into my eyeballs. It makes me tense and I sit there in absolute stillness, still trying to comprehend the familiar word I've heard so many times in my life, but somehow it has never had this much of an impact.

My blood runs cold but boils at the same time. The feeling is impossible to explain. My mind swirls in circles but in the end I'm just plain confused, and worried, and angry. I'm a desperate animal escaping from the merciless prey, but I'd rather be eaten alive at this moment than hear what the word girlfriend hanging on anyone's mouth. Cold sweat overwhelms my torso and hands, creating a chilling sensation that runs through my entire body. I refuse to blink for some time, hoping the tears that threaten to fall will be hidden away if I try hard enough. 

But it's no use. Because I have to accept reality and whatever that has happened as a wake up call. I can see Sehun smiling. that smile he rarely wears but is so pure and angelic if anyone ever gets the privilege to witness it. He just lets out a small chuckle as a sign he heard the girl and brings his hand towards his mouth in the process. The smile I waited so long to see, waited so long for me to be reason for it. 

He looks so real. So colourful. His face illuminated with emotion is like an expression of art, a masterpiece itself. Like the old Christmas tree coming back to life after being paired with a new string of lights. The scene is beautiful, and I forget about reality just that moment. He's just another person passing by, a person that has a beautiful smile and is perfect in every way imaginable. And a person I've come to admire.

It makes me think back to the two years we shared classes together. Me being my shy self the first step I took in this very room. The first and only time when his head lifted up from his phone and looked at me, and how our eyes met at the special moment. 

It's a reality call actually. I'm glad she said that sentence. I start to realise Sehun is just another passer by and is not permanent, like every other person I value in life. He is just there. He does not make any effort to know anyone, which makes me wonder why he even has any friends, but I guess maybe it's just me then, maybe he just doesn't want to make the wasteful effort of a lower class person like myself. Whatever it is, I still respect him, because he is more perfect than I am, or ever will be, and no matter what happens, I'll still remember him as the almighty Sehun that makes even perfection seem possible.

And parallel lives we will continue to live, but fortunately for me, I've stumbled here accidentally and had the opportunity to admire him from afar.

Fin