Jongin was hugging his pillow, fast asleep when his sharp ringtone woke him up. He pressed the speaker button.

“What, dude?” He answered sleepily, recognising the picture that flashed on his screen.

“I think I am in love, Jongin.”

“Yeah.” Jongin yawned. A few seconds later, realisation dawned over him and he almost shouted, “What?”

“Uh huh.”

“You just blew my sleep away.”

“Mine blew away a long time ago.”

“Well, now what?”

“That’s what I wanna ask you. Now what?”

“Do you still wanna teach him a lesson?”

“No…”

“Well, then?”

“Then?”

“Gosh, Taemin. What do people do when they’re in love?”

“…”

“There?”

“I gotta sleep. Bye.”

-Beep-

Jongin threw his phone beside him, and closed his eyes; a sleepy smile coming over his face. “Good luck meeting Choi in your dreams, Tae.”

Taemin woke up quite early the next day, and got ready while humming to himself. He hoped, well, just a little, that Minho would come pick him up. But he knew that the tall boy wouldn’t come; after all he hadn’t come yesterday.

Now he realised why he had been so angry to be stood up.

He had been hoping to see him, and when he didn’t turn up, he felt sad, and that sadness took the form of anger.

Well, he still waited, pushing the little luck he might have.

He glanced at his watch after a long wait.

“Fifteen minutes to class.” He sighed, and headed towards the bus stop.

On entering class, he found Minho seated as usual, yawning while playing on his phone.

Now that he had pushed his blind anger aside, he could kind of understand what he had been feeling. It was the same...but yet felt so different, and though he was able to understand it, he still wasn't sure of it.

That rhythmic sound of his dancing heart, the rush, the tingling inside of him, the urge to approach…everything was making better sense. All these notions were what he had thought the outcome of being pissed off, or his anger at the tall boy’s rude antics; when actually, maybe, he had been falling for each of them.

It all felt familiar, yet so fresh; and a sincere smile left Taemin’s lips, as he walked to his seat happily.

He turned to Minho “Hi.” He said softly.

“Hi.” Minho said, not even sparing Taemin a glance.

Taemin’s face fell, and his heart as well. This falling of heart was familiar too, and he realised that the reason why his heart had fallen was the ignorance he got. This fall of heart had turned into anger before, but now no longer.

Taemin realised he had been yearning for attention all this while, not really realising it himself.

He secretly glanced at Minho, and man, those features of his…had they been ever so charming?

Those big innocent eyes, that black hair, those pink lips, that fair skin, those charming expressions…Choi was a male version of Snow White! A badass Snow White.

“Now who’s a princess, huh?” Taemin chuckled to himself.

“What you staring at, bad boy?” Minho's low voice interrupted Taemin's imagination of Minho in a Snow White costume.

“Snow White- I mean nothing.” Taemin blurted out.

Minho snickered, and heat rushed to Taemin’s cheeks. He averted his gaze, sure that if he saw Minho smile or laugh another time, his little heart would start beating in an audible tempo.

To his relief, Minho looked away, and Taemin relaxed, continuing his secret watch.

His heart was excited, and that said hate no longer existed in his mind. Come to think of it…why did he hate Minho in the first place?

He couldn’t remember.

Just like he couldn’t remember when he had started liking him as well.

He was still unsure if this peculiar notion was what they called ‘love’.

Heart racing?

Thinking about him all day?

Feeling all warm and happy seeing him smile?

Feeling all angry when he avoids you?

Feeling all excited to meet him?

Wanting to look good to match him for him?

That was how love's symptoms were defined in most places.

And he had those symptoms. So he was in love.

And the movies said so too, so did those songs, so did Jongin, and so did Dad.

So it must be love.

But he needed proof.

He constricted his brows, deep in thought as he kept watching Minho.

Minho turned right then, and smiled when he caught Taemin looking at him.

Taemin’s eyes widened.

Oh God.

Oh God.

OH GOD.

His heart was in a musical rush, and he could hear it cloud his ears.

Minho’s smile faded a bit seeing the colour rise in Taemin’s face. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

Taemin nodded, averting his gaze.

Minho looked in front- the lecturer was busy writing on the board. He dragged his chair quietly towards Taemin and pressed his palm to Taemin’s forehead.

“W-What are you doing?” Taemin stuttered.

“Checking if you have a fever or not. Stay still.”

Taemin’s heart was stuck in his throat with the proximity between them. Minho’s soft warm fingers against his skin, that adorable worried expression; the gentleness in his eyes, that soft voice he spoke in…

This was all he wanted.

His attention.

His care.

His love.

Love.

Taemin’s eyes widened in realisation.

He felt happy flutters run through his heart with Minho examining his temperature carefully.

“No fever…” Minho said, as he drew back.

Feeling that warm touch leave him, Taemin felt that little fall in his heart.

His hand moved on instinct, grabbing Minho’s.

Minho looked at him with confusion clouding his face.

Taemin smiled, drawing closer to the tall boy, and pecking his cheek lightly.

Minho’s eyes widened. “W-What…?”

“The lovebirds may go out if they want to keep exchanging romantic gestures.” The lecturer’s voice filled the air, and Minho immediately dragged his chair back to his place.

Taemin chuckled, and looked at Minho whose face had tinged a shade of pink. A gasp left him.

A blush.

Choi. Blush.

, he was so adorable.

So effing adorable.

Minho cleared his throat, and Taemin snapped out of his daze. He signalled him to pay attention to class, and Taemin chuckled to himself, turning towards the board, humming happily.

He was in deep alright, and well, this called love wasn’t all that ty after all.

The next day Taemin was waiting again, but there was no sign of a bike in his neighbourhood.

He had realised that more than the bike ride, he enjoyed holding onto Minho, he enjoyed the comfortable warmth, and the pleasant scent emanating from him.

Well, he couldn’t possibly ask him to get on his boyfriend duty, after all. He must stay somewhere far, and it must be a trouble to pick him up as well.

Those thoughts only prevented Taemin’s heart to fall, but did not hamper the hope with which he stood in the morning, waiting for the bike to fill his view.

With fifteen minutes left for class, he headed to the bus stop.

As he took a seat in the bus, he sighed happily.

Even waiting seemed happy to him.

What was all this fuzziness and ticklishness he was feeling?

"Love." He said to himself, giggling. He looked around and found a few passengers staring at him. He cleared his throat and put on a less 'giggly-boy-in-love' expression. Choi was maybe turning him into a creep, but it was all worth it.

He skipped to his class, a bright smile coming over his face on spotting the tall sight yawning.

He hurried to his desk. “Hi!”

“Hmm.” Minho said, without glancing at him.

Taemin pouted, a bit sadly, for not getting the response he wanted. He really wanted to feast his eyes with Minho’s smile