I'm not a perfectionist. Not really. Okay, maybe I am, but it's not really something I can help. 

If I'm being honest, I'm above average intelligence, going with the flow, keeping at the top of my classes as I finish off my last year of college. My life takes an unexpected tumble into mayhem when I submit defeat to my worst subject - Korean History. Being a non-native, the overwhelming amount of intertwining of folklore and fact was a staggering struggle for me.

It's in the midst of my rant about this subject when Minseok looks up at me and suggests what I'd never thought he'd suggest - that I get a tutor.

A tutor? Me? Good one. 

Anyone else would've agreed within a heartbeat, anyone else would've thought nothing more of it. I was - unfortunately - different, though. Possibly caught up in my own ego, too proud to admit I needed help or possibly believing I'd be able to somehow save myself and I'd miraculously begin to understand the origins and beginnings of the people and country I'd been living amongst.

Sehun wasn't a bad tutor, though. Just a bad choice for me, I think. He was a lanky, awkward, soft-spoken boy with a lisp. Oh, and he was three years younger than me.

Quite possibly the furthest thing from perfect.

It shocked me, though, when I found myself looking forward to meetings with Sehun and my heart fluttering whenever he laughed. Even the things that seemed to be flaws started to become merits.

With Sehun so intent on knowing the real me, alarm bells rang in my head. No matter how much I pushed him away, though, he seemed to draw closer.

No matter how Sehun or I felt, there was always a wall, the wall around my heart, around the real Lu Han. I liked to call him Xiao Lu, seeing as he was so naïve and innocent. I was responsible for ensuring Xiao Lu was never hurt, not again.

It was me, then, who pushed Sehun too far one day - he didn't draw closer.