pre A/N: the narration in past tense form is a flashback, ne? hehehe okay. let's read ! 

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I suddenly feel as if someone had hung a heavy piece of metal on my shoulder as I walk, that I have to stoop down a little to avoid my shoulder from breaking. I whip my head to my left and demand, because the hurt quite angered me, “What?!”

“Ah, why is hyung on a really bad mood today?” a playfully laughing P.O laughs right next to me.

“I’m not in a bad mood,” I reason, though my voice is already too calm to be sensed that it is exasperated.

Jihoon clucks his tongue in disappointment. “I believe you. But take a look at yourself in the mirror,” he points my nose. “Anyway, you gonna give someone something on Valentine’s Day?”

At the mere mention of that an eruption of butterflies is started at the pit of my stomach, and my heart does a little tap-dance at the reminder that I find myself smiling, with my cheeks getting warm all of a sudden. I feel like a sissy every time this happens, seriously. A certain girl immediately passes across my mind, but I reply, “Please, they are the ones giving me something on that day,”

He laughs. “That’s Yukwon-hyung!”

I wish I really were. “Ya, go to your class now. Remember Old Man is monitoring our every move,” I recommend with a laugh, slapping his shoulder to send him off.

“Whoa, you’re scared of that Old Man?”

I shake my head. “No! Well, lately I’ve been having no appetite for trouble,”

He snickers. “Hah, that’s what being absent from Black Dragon’s activities does to you,”

I shrug my shoulders. “It’s not like we’ve been on the move these past few weeks, right,”

He nods. “The feeling is mutual. Between us and RT, that is,” he does an impatient tsk sound and then trots off to a direction opposite to where I’m heading. “By the way, good luck on your work today!” he yodels merrily before disappearing in the distance.

“Yeah.” and I head to where I am supposed to go.

Now climbing the stairs to the second floor I take a deep breath, nervous about something I can’t really point out, but definitely know the cause. I know in myself that I am running out of time, but honestly I am more inclined to the idea of not confessing because in the absence of words, in the missing of explanations—this is where I am comfortable. If not for the threat, I wouldn’t be internally bawling my eyes out over this matter.

One, two, three, four…

One, two, three four…

I do the mental counting while I keep my eyes fixated on the steps of the stairs, half-wishing that I could just tread these stairs forever because, no matter how excited I am about the idea, the thought of revealing the truth about my feelings makes me want to run away—anywhere away from here and then transfer to another planet.

Sadly, here I am, the realization dawning late, on the third floor.

The students are one by one entering their classes now but for me, it’s another case. As I walk along the slowly-being-emptied hallways I try to remember what the reason was why I am even here. Oh, right. I was one of the baddest, meanest rebels of this institution. For more than once I had involved myself in gang fights—it’s a miracle I haven’t been kicked out of this school yet.

Closet.

Here I am.

“Keep cool,” I mutter to myself, as I hold the doorknob, and when I open—voila, there she is.

I am so going to turn gay anytime now.

WHY AM I SUCH A COWARD?!

“Ah, ne-ne-ne… Annyeonghasseyo, Yukwon-ssi. Sorry for being here again,” she quickly closes her book and instantly stands up as soon as she sees me, and bows several times, her long curly hair bouncing furiously upon the movements.

I resist the urge to put a hand on my chest to ease the raging palpitation of my heart, and tell her, quite coolly, “Ah, it’s alright. I’m used to it,” I grin at her, and step further into the room to get my cleaning materials. I grab the mop and the bucket and load the latter with water. “Aren’t you heading to class?” I ask her.

She just stands there timidly in a corner with her eyes downcast. “Well, I...”

“Hey,” I laugh. “You know you’re the least kind of person that would do that. Has anyone ever told you that? You know it’s Tuesday today,” I tell her. Putting it simply, this girl is a nerd and she belongs to that type that one class missed is equivalent to a lifetime of hell.

Her bow even becomes lower and she chooses to stay silent. Usually she would speak up, but some kind of fear tickles the back of my mind that I find myself asking—

“Is anything the matter?” I ask, walking to her with mop in hand.

Her huge glasses hang and the tip of her nose with the danger of falling that she has to push it back close to her eyes. After a long—really long—moment, she lifts her gaze to meet mine, and then speaks.