Love was illogical, wasn’t it? Surely, he had to be sick. Perhaps a fever, or a case of heartburn. Those had to be the only explanations as to why he felt the way he did whenever he saw you.
It all began one day in class. You had been transferred from one classroom to the next, having gotten flawless grades with minimal effort. It only made sense for you to be in the harder class, so you could learn. Yixing sat in his seat, wondering how he could become better at the other swimming techniques, how he could branch out from just the butterfly .
Many of the students already knew you from outside of class, so no introductions were needed. You were quickly placed in a desk a row away from his own. He glanced over and felt his throat swell slightly. You were...aesthetically pleasing to say the least. Once the teacher began teaching the new chapter he felt relieved, something logical to put his mind back at ease. But his face still felt warm… Maybe he needed to stop by the nurse, or buy some cold medicine to take once he got home. Nothing but a cold, one had been going around after all. And the evenings tended to get chilly, it didn’t help that his hair was still wet after swimming practice when he was going home.
The nurse dismissed his ideas, stating after taking his temperature that he was in fine health. He took the cold medicine anyways, thinking that it could only help. But his symptoms seemed to have gotten worse. Heart palpitations, dry throat, losing focus in class, losing his train of thought. He was only getting worse and worse! Yet there you sat, rows away, completely unaware of his plight. It almost made him angry, how dare you cause such sickness in him and not even acknowledge it. Or him. For a fleeting moment he wondered, ‘Why doesn’t she look at me?’

The end of the semester was fast arriving, which meant it was time for class projects. The teacher put everyone’s names into a hat and called students up one by one to reach in and pick their partner. The topic was biology, each person was given a disease and they had to create a presentation on it.
You were called up to the front of the class and put your hand into the coffee can full of name slips. “Zhang Yixing.” You said quietly, scanning the class to see where he was. It took a lot of effort for him not to let his hand shoot up. Instead he waited a second before raising it slowly. You nodded before walking over to him. “Hello.” You said as you sat down next to him, other students forming groups and talking about what they could do to make their project unique and exciting.
He nodded in greeting, mouth and throat dry once more. Maybe he should have another talk with the school nurse…?
“We have mononucleosis.” You said, brandishing the other paper slip she had. “When are you able to work on it? I know you’re on the swim team…”
He cleared his throat, “I-I can start tomorrow after school.”
You nodded in understanding, “Walk home with me then. My dad has some old medical textbooks from college we could probably use.”
“Okay…I’ll meet you by the gates.”

“Geez, what’s wrong Lay? Your time is worse than it’s been in weeks!” Baekhyun said, holding up his stopwatch. He resurfaced and moved his goggles onto his forehead, wiping the water from his face.
“I think I’m sick. According to some research I’ve done, I show symptoms of a handful of serious diseases.”
“Sick? Why do you think that?” He took a step back as he climbed out of the pool, a puddle quickly forming around his feet and trickling into the grates set into the concrete.
In a hushed tone he told him all the sensations he had been experiencing with grave seriousness. To his surprise, he began to laugh.
“Are you serious?! You aren’t sick, Lay, you have a crush!” He said, covering his mouth with his hand as if he could hide his laughter.
“Impossible.” He said, crossing his arms. “I’m positive I would know if it was something as idiotic as that.” He his heel and pulled his goggles back down, stretching his arms to dive in once more.
“He has been staring at the new girl in class lately…” Tao fake whispered to Baekhyun.
“Tao!” Lay exclaimed.
“What? It’s true.” He turned back to the hyped up guy. “They even got paired up together for the end of semester project.”
“Seriously? Lay, you should ask her out!”
“No. I just want to get the project finished.”
“Well you won’t be talking the whole time. Studying for hours on end gets exhausting.” Tao moved close to him. “When you guys start talking is when you can propose!”
“I’m not proposing to her.” He deadpanned. “I don’t even want to date her…” He said unconvincingly, even to himself.
“When do you guys start studying? We can make a plan!” Baekhyun turned the paper on his clipboard over and began to draw x’s and o’s, as if he were making a plan for a football game.
“No.” He said, taking the paper and balling it up before diving back into the pool. He didn’t want to date you. At least, that’s what he was trying to tell himself.

The next day after school you waited for him by the gates, two cans of coffee in your hands. The thought of working with him made you nervous. He probably thought you were an idiot, there was no way he would want you to take any part in the project. You glanced at the ground, watching a line of ants cross the concrete toward a broken potato chip that rested on the sidewalk.
Lay hurried out to you, bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m late.” 
“Don’t worry about it…” You handed him one of the cold black cans before starting to lead the way toward your house. You wondered how exactly one went about starting a conversation with the class smarty pants. Lay had spent the night before doing research of a different kind and was constantly watching for the ‘signs’ that countless websites talked about. He wracked his brain, wondering if he should try to hold your hand, or offer to carry your bag. Ultimately, the both of you remained silent for the walk home.
Your house was ordinary and close to the school, he was surprised when you suddenly turned to walk up the walkway to your door. Inside you kicked off your shoes and put on a pair of slippers, a pair of guest ones already set out. “I have supplies for the project upstairs...do you want anything to eat?”
“I, uh, anything you have is fine.” He held onto his bag as you went into the kitchen, placing an array of snacks on a plate, ranging from salty to sweet. You walked out with a plate before leading him to your room, opening the door with your foot and walking in.
A short table with cushions near the center, a bookshelf along the wall. Your bed against a corner, a comfortable reading place by the window. It all seemed very relaxing. You pulled a bag forward full of supplies for the project, ranging from markers and stick on letters to cardboard and fabric. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do, so I picked up a lot of things.”
“We should do the research first.” He said, placing his textbook on the table. Research was something he was good at, something he could find solace in. Now that he knew for sure he wasn’t potentially dying, his mind had become a lot more foggy. He wondered different things about you now, like if you’d ever been kissed before. If you had a boyfriend. If you wanted one.

Your job was to write down how one got infected with mononucleosis. Your pen was quick against the paper as you looked through your textbook.
“What do you have so far?” Lay asked, taking a sip from the glass in front of him. Outside the clouds had grown dark and the air had taken on a damp feel.
“Sharing a glass with an infected person, occasionally through blood transfusion, and through...kissing.” You said softly, bringing a light blush to both of your cheeks. He nodded and began to transcribe your words onto a plain sheet of paper, to go onto the cardboard presentation poster.
Across the room a strong gust of wind blew through your open window, knocking down his glass and splashing tea across his paper and onto his shirt. You both gasped and you quickly stood up and shut the window, grabbing a towel from the hallway closet on your way back. “I’m sorry Yixing!” You said, mopping up the tea from the table. The paper was soaked beyond repair. “I can be so stupid sometimes.” You said, leaning across the table to wipe at the edges of the table so no more splashed onto his clothes.
Lay looked up at you and saw that your lip was trembling slightly. How could you be so stupid as to not even notice a storm blowing in?! He lifted his hands a few inches from where they rested on the table. How dare you look so sad when he was there, more than willing to comfort you now that he’s surrendered to his primal feelings?
“(Y/N). Call me Lay.” He said as you quickly wiped the table clean before anymore could splash onto him. You glanced up at him and nodded. The towel soaked with tea in your hand. “What was that last thing you said? Before the tea fell over.”
“That mono was spread by kissing and--”
You were silenced by his tea flavored kiss.

He hadn’t predicted things would be quite as awkward afterward.
After the kiss you were silent as you worked on the project, spreading glue onto the back of papers and foam lettering and pressing them against the cardboard display.
Lay was shocked. Had he miscalculated? He did everything that the websites told him to! He thought he had never been so smooth in his entire life. Yet why did you react so...lukewarm? Like it didn’t even happen?
By the time you both were finished the moon had long been up and the snacks on the plate thoroughly picked over. The dryer finished tumbling his shirt dry and you stood, going to retrieve it. It was warm and smelled fresh, you hesitated for a moment in the hall, holding the warm bundle to your chest.
The silence continued as you walked down the stairs to let him out. He removed the slippers and put on his shoes, grabbing his school bag and taking out an umbrella.
“Hey Lay?” You said as he took a step outside.
He turned around to face you, an eyebrow raised. “Hm?”
You stood on your toes and kissed him, just quick enough that he couldn’t react. “Good night.” The door slid shut and he continued to stand there, the warmth of his shirt having nothing on the heat of his skin.

During class the following day the groups got back into their huddles throughout the room, pulling out whatever research they did and assigning speaking parts to each person. You both were fairly quiet except for the occasional, ‘I can take that part’.
He couldn’t figure out the right way to phrase it. One way it sounded too demanding and provocative. Another sounded like he didn’t care at all. He got out a piece of paper and pressed his pencil against it, writing out his words. Let her interpret them how she thought best.
You were looking around at the other groups, they seemed so loud and talkative, if slightly annoying. A folded piece of paper found it’s way beneath your fingers. You sat up straighter, startled, and unfolded it. You recognized the handwriting instantly.
‘Will you go out with me?’
Slowly you folded it back up and nodded, slipping your hand into his beneath the table and squeezing gently. He squeezed in return and gave a small, triumphant smile.