It is a Thursday afternoon that I decide that I would like to treat myself again. Upon the school's end-bell chime, I bid my goodbyes to Tiffany and head out of the school, turning in the opposite direction to home. I call my mother and notify her that I'll be out for dinner tonight. 

I spend dinners mostly at home, with Mum and occasionally Dad when he's not at work, and the other times are spent with the group. About once every week all or most of us would decide to eat out, if school work or family businesses doesn't get in the way. Today I feel like having a meal on my own, away from anyone I know, and entering in this Italian restaurant I have a confident feeling this place isn't popular among school students. 

The waiter shows me to a table against the wide panels of glass looking out at the streets of housing and convenience stores. I order a pumpkin soup and a meal of carbonara spaghetti. As I wait for my food, I look into my phone and realise that I've sat down to eat extremely early. Having walked directly here after school only took a while, half an hour at most. That didn't mean that I am ravenous albeit; I did skip lunch spending my time helping a schoolmate recover his files in the library.

After gulping down the soup and pasta - a hearty meal -, I set aside the dishes near the end of the table for the waiter to come by and take away, and bring out my homework. Not feeling the time to go home and quite enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the restaurant, I don't see the harm in staying inside to complete some work rather than in the confined space of my room. I order a coke to accompany me with my studies and ask for some lemon as I'm not too accustomed with the full taste of the beverage.

The clinking of cutlery and small murmurs from within the restaurant are drowned out as I allow myself to be absorbed into the work, causing me to only realise that someone has sat down directly opposite me when they eventually give a short "Hi". Donned with a navy blue hoodie, Baekhyun stares across from me, staring incredulously at my pen poised over the page.

"Are you doing homework?" His tone makes it sounds like it is the most ridiculous thing he's ever seen.

Regaining my composure, I raise an eyebrow at him. "Is there a problem?" 

He lifts his eyes from my open textbooks. "Do you do this everyday? Sit in somewhere and study?"

"Not really." I realise that he's voiced quite a few words just now, very contrasting to our typical tutor sessions. "How did you find me here?"

He doesn't answer, and simply blinks at me. Ah, there's the normal Baekhyun in front of me. 

"Did you follow me here?"

He scoffs. "And why would I spend my efforts creeping after you?" He folds his arms after tousling his already messy hair, touching up on a new style that he pulls off neatly just like any of his looks, and sinks lower into the seat. This boy is definitely going to regret his careless postures in five years, or ten if he's lucky, when he's groaning and thumping at his sore back. 

I eye his position, his expressionless face giving no sign that he will leave the table. "Why are you here?"

In answer, he calls the waiter over and orders a mushroom and spice ricotta. I wonder how he knows what meal he wants without having to look at the menu. 

As the waiter leaves and Baekhyun turns back to me, my eyes go wide with realisation. Byun Baekhyun is sitting at my table and is about to dine in my presence. In an unforced situation. Or was it forced?

"What are you doing here?" I repeat, my hands turning clammy.

He doesn't frown or smirk. "It's evening. A boy needs to eat you know." Baekhyun glances down at my homework. "How long have you been here doing that?"

For reference, I glance out the window and am bewildered to see that the sun has almost completely set. Warm orange rays spark across the darkening sky and people outside are already dressed in jackets and coats. I subconciously give a small shiver with them and suddenly feel vulnerable to the night chill with only my thin school jacket to protect me. There evidently and thankfully are a few heaters in here however, as it is fairly warm inside. 

I must have looked like an idiot glancing around the restaurant, scanning for those precious heaters, for when I turn back to Baekhyun, he's giving me a funny look, and his notorious mouth is all I need to confirm that he thinks of me an utterly insane person. After a full moment of him staring at me with the uniform expression, and me trying to figure out what kind of stare I should return back, I try and put him on the spot for not breaking eye contact. "What are you looking at?"

Well that was very well thought out.

Baekhyun only his head in reply, stare turning curious and I realise that I've just successfully stolen one of his famous lines. Or borrowed, as I don't intend to settle with it. With a of his lips he props himself up so that his chin is rested in his palm, staring nonchalantly out the window into the dark. Being familiar with his refusal to answer my questions now, I decide to ignore him as long as he doesn't bother or provoke me, to which I know to be a fact he doesn't engage conversations without a certain incentive, and we aren't seated at a glass table for his predative eyes to play with, but instead a solid marble table thankfully conceals my bare legs.

Some time into however long we stay at the restaurant, he is served with his dinner, finishes it in silence and is presently sipping at some kind of cold beverage. I have no idea what he's consuming and did not comprehend his drink order to the waiter as I was too engaged into my literature, constantly flipping through my notes and composing paragraphs for an essay to be turned in next week. I do not give him a glance since he came, and only occasionally acknowledge his presence in my peripheral vision. Through the break-through of my focus, my expectations fall whenever I take a peek and discover that he's still there. At one point, Baekhyun obnoxiously scrapes his chair back and leaves the table without a word, and still I do not look up to see whether he's up to something. Instead, I mildly celebrate in my head, the pressure finally lifting off my chest that I did not realise had been with me until Baekhyun disappears from my side view. I feel like I am able to concentrate better, although I wasn't very off-track before and managed to almost complete my essay draft.

Albeit at the same time, my heart sinks by an inch and my hand slackens, suddenly feeling a little colder from the lack of company. 

I glance up at where an empty spot meets me, staring forlorn for a moment too long, before irritation spikes inside and I get up with a frown, moving over to Baekhyun's seat to push his chair in. Coming from such a prestige household and a mother who surely must have taught discipline and etiquette, does the boy not know simple table manners? 

Annoyance making its full circulation around my body, I sit back down on my side of the table and gaze at my essay. Perhaps my frustration is the one to blame - frustration from something so small at that - but I no longer am in the mood to finish my work, even if there is only the conclusion left to write. Sighing, I close my books and drain the remaining table water, scanning the table for anything left behind and head to the cashier to pay for my meal. Purse in hand, I smile at the waitress who smiles back, her eyes flicking to my table hesitantly. 

"May I help you?" she asks.

My smile falters mildly in confusion. "I'd like to pay for my meal, thank you."

"Ah, hold on." She taps into her monitor, her eyes darting left to right as if desperately searching for something. Recognition seems to flash across her features as her expression relaxes. "Ma'am, your table's bill has already been paid."

Slightly frowning, I question, "Are you sure? Have you got the wrong table?" I point out mine for assurance.

"I'll check the history... A dish of carbonara spaghetti and spiced mushroom ricotta with two drinks - coke and a vanilla milkshake?"

"Actually I only had-" I stop myself, my mind returning to when Baekhyun had left earlier. I dubiously question whether he had paid for both meals upon his leaving. 

As if the waitress can read my thoughts, she smiles brightly and bows. "Your meal has been paid ma'am," she repeats in finality, a cheeky taste in her tone.

Blinking wildly, I stammer out a 'thank you' for her service and ask her to send my regards to the chef. She bows again and I exit the restaurant, eventually securing my purse back into my bag, mind whizzing around. Did Baekhyun really just pay for my meal? How much is that? Perhaps he paid for the both of us by accident, and didn't take notice of the total price with the wealth he has on him. That means I owe him eighteen thousand won for today. 

As I head into the direction to home, my body shivering violently against the full blast of the night wind, my thoughts suddenly take into the direction of that night I spent with Baekhyun, and most significantly, the party. The dress, the heels, my makeup, my hair; all of it was paid by Baekhyun. And I haven't gotten the chance to repay him. 

What has the total amounted to now? Tens of thousand wons? Hundreds of thousands? I'm not sure if my parents would appreciate the sudden disappearance of figures from my bank account. 

My hands start to turn numb from the cold and I hastily shove them into my pockets, dipping my chin into the turtle neck of my jacket and hurry past people, eager to seek the warmth in my house. I hope Mum has the heaters for me. 

-

"Hey Taeyeon!" 

Hyoyeon stops squawking about her hotpot dinner last night as a means of getting over her failure in her last class' mini quiz, and looks behind me. Weaving past students hurrying to the cafeteria, Daehyun holds his arm up for our attention as he catches up to us. Hyoyeon and I share a puzzled glance. 

"Hey," I greet, wondering why someone like Daehyun suddenly needs my help when he's never asked for it before. Daehyun manages his grades efficiently and is well above average, and practically has never shared a conversation with me besides the one time we were partnered up for a project two years back.

He stops in front of us and nods to Hyoyeon, who hesitantly returns it. "I know this is on a really big whim, but I'm wondering if you could help out with something important to me."

I rack my brain. The only assignment hanging around would be the literacy essay, but that is only subject to my Korean class, and the only class I share with Daehyun this year is Biology. "Okay, what is it?"

Before Daehyun can reply, Hyoyeon doesn't make an effort to hide her disgust in her tone. "Please don't associate me with anything to do with school work right now, I am not getting over that 34%. Excuse me." With a huff of vexation, she turns on her heel and follow the last few students heading to the cafeteria. 

Daehyun blinks after Hyoyeon, as if deciding whether or not to bid her goodbye. Seeming to reject that idea, he looks at me and offers a smile. Daehyun is roughly one and a half head taller than me, which makes him look fairly tall as he stands in front of me. His raven black hair accentuates his eyes which remind me of his scrutinisation back to the afternoon I was attached to Baekhyun and had disrupted their basketball practice. Merely two weeks ago. 

His eyes now offer a less observant look, though I feel uneasy in his presence none the same and grip my textbooks in hand a littler tighter for some form of security. "Uh, what's up?"

Daehyun glances down the cleared out hallway. I gulp while his gaze is faced away from me. "I don't mean to impose myself on you, and I may be asking too much from you, but my basketball team has a big tournament in a few weeks, and I've been thinking about strategies to improve our team play." He pauses to see if I am comprehending, and I give a slow nod for him to continue. "I understand that you aren't familiar with the game rules and some terms, but it's not much to take on, and regarding our improvements, I think everything would work best if I had a bit of help." Daehyun stops and looks at me and it seems like he wants me to say something. 

"Right, so you want me to help with game tactics?" 

Daehyun grins, his matte hair more radiant than ever. My skin suddenly acknowledges the chilly atmosphere, even through my three layers, and goosebumps start to appear. "Yes, essentially. I'd really appreciate your help, as I'm sure the rest of the team would."

My mind pulls out the memories of the disappointed faces of the boys I was teamed up with as a result of having Baekhyun on their team, and their crestfallen faces as the opposing teams easily score points off them. I am a failure to sports in general, and never really show interest in anything exercise-related, but I will admit I felt an aboundant amount of shame of being so incapable of anything in that moment of time, and feel extremely indebt to the boys, no matter the amount of blame I put on the health assignment. Perhaps this is my opportunity to apologise and help them achieve something to make up for that Friday. 

I almost forgot that Baekhyun is also on the team, and might be peeved off with another situation of me assisting him, if he's already not annoyed enough with spending two hours with me every weekend. He definitely proved that he would much rather prefer spending his time elsewhere than staring at textbooks and questions to answer. And to be quite honest, I feel more and more conflicted when in Baekhyun's presence. His expressions are so hard to read it's almost driving me nuts. 

"Taeyeon?" I snap out of my haze and find a flicker of concern in Daehyun's features. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah." 

Daehyun looks like he doesn't believe me as he frowns harder. "You don't look like it."

His words pierce through my head, stretching up over my crown and towards the back, before the pain clenches all over. I shut my eyes and I must have yelped somewhere in between, and a warm hand grips my wrist. My eyes reveal Daehyun's shocked face. 

"Jesus! Taeyeon you're an icicle!" 

I squint my eyes in confusion as the world suddenly starts spinning, and my body starts to feel too burdening on my legs. Daehyun's mouth is moving but all I can concentrate on is the warmth of his arms as they encircle me, and my face is crushed against his hard chest. My textbooks are lying at my feet and I desperately need water. 

I try to communicate this to Daehyun as I tilt my head up, staring helplessly in his panicked eyes. 

"Taeyeon? Taeyeon are you okay?" 

Warmth under my knees - why am I not wearing stockings? -, the world tilts upside down, I'm staring at the ceiling moving past me. My migraine is almost unbearable. The itchiness in my throat demands to be coughed out, long and hard. But Daehyun's face is above me, his chin seeming strained from something. I don't want to cough onto him. I try to keep it in, and he glances down, frantic. I must look like I'm choking, with the gurgling sound in my throat. My vision is blurring, the pain squeezing tears out of me. When am I going to pass out? When will this headache end? My head is screaming, louder than thoughts.

Much louder than thoughts. 

-

Everything is quiet when I start to make sense of the world again. After removing a damp hand towel from my forehead, my eyes slacken on the familiar environment of my room. My chest feels like it's on fire, and so I stay laying on my bed, taking small laboured breaths from the harsh heat burning across my skin. I close my eyes and am too dizzy to comprehend anything, just seeing black everywhere and feeling red all over.