The students surrounding him gaze at him confoundedly, inquisitive of Do Kyungsoo's existence. Mr. Kim doesn’t introduce him to the class, or even share words with him. He merely continues his lesson as routine.

Several times their eyes meet. Jongin's eyes flutter as if he’s trying to avoid the contact. The students seem drawn into his lecture, despite being distracted by Kyungsoo's presence.

Soon the class ends in an uprise of ebullient chattering between the pupils. Kyungsoo remain seated as he gazes after students flowing out of the classroom, filtering out the impertinent students with overtures or sensational epiphanies to indulge the exciting man.

And though he conveys the impression of composure, his focus is curled up in a ball a few inches to the right of the back wall - which happens to be Kyungsoo. When it’s only Mr. Kim and the boy outstanding, Kyungsoo clears his throat. He continues bunching papers on his desk.

“Morning, sir,” Kyungsoo breathes, scattering out of his chair from the back corner of the classroom.

Jongin tilts his head at the boy, softness in his eyes yet a stern hardness enveloping his face. “Mr. Do. How was your flight?”

Kyungsoo presses his lips together and assure him his flight was fine.

“I didn’t realise you were coming so soon.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Have your parents know that I can’t allow visitors in my lectures.”

My parents...? Kyungsoo scrunches up his little nose.

“I’m sure you understand why you’re here,” he continues.

“To keep you company,” Kyungsoo nods.

“Not quite,” he says with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“What?” the boy mutters.

“My intentions are purely experimental.”

Kyungsoo tilts his head. “Excuse me?”

“What’s my habit, Mr. Do?”

“Writing,” he chews his lip.

Jongin nods. “You’ve done your research. Now for some exclusive information about myself: I’m a realist."

Kyungsoo blinks.

“Fantasy threads its way into every fiction. For some time I was consumed by commercialism. People want to read fantasy. If we were a story, people would want us to get along. They’d want us to fall in love. They’d want us to be together forever – the ultimate desperate female fantasy. Do you follow?”

The teen doesn't follow but he nods.

“Well that’s fantasy. That’s ideal. That’s never going to happen.”

His realism is chilling and Kyungsoo almost scowls.

“You will fill very many voids in my life if you should choose to accept,” he continues.

“Am I going to be your boyfriend?”

“We'll see,” he chuckles.

Kyungsoo's heart swells. “How long is this going to last?"

He clears his throat. “It’s difficult to be in love with the same person forever. You’re only truly happy for the first few years, give or take. After that you keep yearning for some new excitement and things go stale. I'd give it a few months."

This is news to Kyungsoo. He contemplates his parents' relationship, then looks up at the glorious Jongin. “You've been in love before?”

“Love is inane.”

The teen presses his lips together. “So is using a mere teenage boy for your personal project.”

His eyes transformed into a solemn softness. “I’m hurt that you’d think like that. No one else can do this for me but you.”

Kyungsoo's bottom lip drops a little and he's breathing out of his mouth for a few moments. “Really?”

Jongin orders Kyungsoo to stay silent as he finishes marking his students’ homework. Once he’s finished marking, he drives the boy to his condo in silence.

The two arrive at Jongin's building and Kyungsoo follows his elder into the elevator. Mr. Kim stares intently at Kyungsoo as the doors close.

They reach the thirty-first floor and Jongin nudges the boy out hastily, towards a door with the numbers ‘1601’ engraved on it.

Kyungsoo blink. “You want me to go in?”

“Only if you want to sleep in a bed tonight,” he murmurs.

He unlocks the door and Kyungsoo open it swiftly. The condo is so modestly untidy. Jongin nods to a dark corner where a closed door stands tall. “Don’t go in there.”

Kyungsoo clicks his tongue, gazing around at the state of the room.

Jongin drops onto one of the leather-clad sofas and Kyungsoo stands in the doorway timidly. His stomach growls continuously as a reminder that he hasn't eaten since morning.

“Food,” Jongin murmurs. “Can you cook?”

Little Do plays with his fingers, umm-ing and ahh-ing softly.

Jongin's beautiful face displays utter disappointment. He slides his mobile phone out of his impressively tight jeans to order pizza as Kyungsoo bows and apologises softly. Jongin then asks if the boy knows how to make coffee, at least.

“Of course,” he nods.

“I’m going to write. I’ll be up all night. Make me some coffee before you go to sleep. You’ll have to sleep on the sofa.”

“Why can’t I sleep in a bed?” Kyungsoo frowns.

Mr. Kim squints. “Sleep in what I provide you with or sleep outside in the hallway.”

“I’m not your test subject,” the boy retorts quietly.

Jongin disappears into his writing room for a while. Kyungsoo stays frozen on the sofa contemplating life. Kim Jongin almost scares him, but Kyungsoo knows wholeheartedly that he is somewhat attracted to it.

Kyungsoo wonders why he hasn't already settled down. He’s at the average age. Even if love is inane to him, he must get lonely. No one dislikes him, from what I’ve heard. Perhaps he really is serious about his ‘habit’.

The pizza arrives and Kyungsoo nibbles on a piece but his nerves get in the way of his famine. He abandons his dinner and finds the kitchen to wash out the percolator. Jongin's washing seems to never be done. I must clean his condo when he’s not here. Coffee mugs and scraps of paper litter the entire condo. Kyungsoo can tell he doesn’t eat full meals – or perhaps he forgets to. He can also tell Jongin forgets to do many things such as eat, sleep, clean – basic human routine. This is the first sign of dependence Kyungsoo's seen from him since they met.

Kyungsoo make his coffee without asking how he likes it, but he guesses from the aroma of the used coffee cups that Jongin likes it bitter. When Kyungsoo knocks on his door, Jongin remains silent. He walks in anyway. Kyungsoo watches him from the doorway for a few moments. His face is content as he writes and he doesn’t look so serious, but he’s scribbling furiously. He puts down his pen and stretches his fingers. Kyungsoo wonders if he prefers to handwrite than to write on his laptop.

“I made you coffee. There's pizza in the fridge. I’m going to sleep,” the teen breathes, setting down Jongin's coffee next to him. His desk is a complete wreck. Kyungsoo gathers the scraps of paper and collects all the used mugs surrounding him.

Jongin rolls his neck and for a while, Kyungsoo believes he's being ignored. Then with his throat, Jongin produces a little ‘hm’ and Kyungsoo realises he’s acknowledged his efforts.

Mr. Kim is a handsomely enticing male, but if Kyungsoo is to help him, the boy must help him in comfort. He refuses to sleep on the sofa. Kyungsoo find Jongin's bedroom and the bathroom within it. After a long, hot affair of standing under the running water of the shower, he throws on a loose grey shirt littering his bedroom floor and collapses on his double bed.