9.35 in the morning.

Joonmyun glances at his wrist watch. It's less than half an hour before the lecture starts at ten. He sits alone at the table outside, at the near-end of the open, forlorn hallway, as he kills the dreading time, watching the early morning raindrops lazily clinging onto the tree branches. On the yellow-coloured table; lies down, a somewhat thick, reference book, "Legacies," is its title. Every Tuesday is literature day.

Joonmyun smiles. Every Tuesday also means another day of seeing his inamorata. He learns the word from a book, and he thinks the word suits perfectly for her.

No, no, scratch that. It's supposed to be from every Monday to Thursday. He thinks being a secret admirer is hard, but sadly, he never gives up on being one.

Not even— after three years.

He flips open his notebook, flips through the pages, and finds himself a blank page, in between of those many scribbled pages with alien words and stuffy notes, written all over the lines. He then darts his eyes on the doodles he wrote on the other page. 

morphology assignment - due in two weeks.

phonology midterm - next week (dead!)

study smart, kim joonmyun.

I HATE THIS SUBJECT.

what is this. what is this.

Park Chorong.

Chorong.

rongrong.

i like you.

He grins. Joonmyun grins.

9.50 in the morning. 

He closes his notebook and clears his stuffs from the yellow-coloured table outside. He slings his bag over his shoulder, as he clutches a couple of books in his hands. Ten more minutes, he reckons, so he decides to stir away from the table, and moves toward the assigned lecture room. 

He reaches the doorknob, turns it and walks in.

Then— poof.

He sees his inamorata again, today, and Joonmyun thinks Chorong looks lovely, for the umpteenth time.

i just have to sort out my surong feels at the moment.