You were lost.

Okay, okay. Don’t panic. It was just a library. Just a big, sprawling library in the middle of a city you weren’t familiar with and on a campus you’ve never been on before.

Nothing to worry about.

Of course, there was also the fact you weren’t technically supposed to be here and if you got caught you would probably get kicked out and then when you send your application in, all they’re going to think is “Hey, isn’t this that one girl who snuck into our library and got kicked off campus?”.

But that doesn’t matter. It’s not like this was your first choice in colleges.

It was your only choice in colleges.

You’d had your heart set on this university for months now and that’s all going to go down the drain because your father just had to go ‘exploring’, so he snuck you and your family in on the back of a tour group and then ditched said tour group to wander around the commons building that just so happened to be connected to the library. This was an all-campus open house, right? All the buildings should be open! Including the library, and even though it wasn’t on the ‘official’ tour, the door wasn’t locked so therefore it was, indeed, included in the open house, according to your father.

Despite popular belief, as you stressed numerous times, the library happened to be off-limits to the general public.

But no. “Let’s go on an adventure!” he said. “It will be fun!” he said.

He lied.

Now you were wandering around the library like a lost little child calling for her parents, because they had ditched you in the pursuit of a bathroom and then they had gotten lost.

At least, that’s what you were guessing. You had found the bathroom they had supposedly gone to and they hadn’t been there. Then you had gone back up to the spot you were supposed to be waiting for them and they hadn’t been there either.

At first you had assumed that they had gotten lost, but then you realized weren’t on the third floor, which had been the designated meeting place. It look similar, sure, and you had assumed it was right because you hadn’t remembered climbing up that many flights of stairs, but you were wrong.

You were in an almost identical section of the library, only on the sixth floor.

So yeah. Lost. And possibly about to get kicked out and banned from the college you dreamt of attending.

Do you try calling them?

No, that would be a sure-fire way to get you and your family caught. This library was a ‘silent study hall option’ and had a strict policy about phone calls.

Then what do you do? Wander around for the next few hours and dodge students and teachers by ducking behind bookcases and diving under tables?

Not likely. You needed to find a way out pronto.

You pull out your phone, debating whether or not to send a text because you didn’t even know if your parents knew how to open a text message, much less send a response to it… maybe you should send one and just pray that their sound wasn’t all the way up….

Unfortunately, just because you’re blessed with worst luck possible, and also due to the fact that you’re currently staring at your phone, you happen to run right into something.

No, someone.

Yup. Someone. Someone that had been carrying a massive stack of books and papers that were now scattered all over the carpet of the library.

Way to lie low, _________. Your amount of grace and discreetness should win awards.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” You say quickly, dropping to a crouch to start scooping up papers and notebooks. They’re covered with neat scribbles describing complicated medical procedures and diagrams depicting bodily functions, a concept that goes completely over your head because you’re here for the liberal arts education this school has to offer, not the prestigious medical school attached to it. “Here’s some of your papers. Gosh, this really isn’t my day. Is this all of it? I think I have all of the papers… are all of your books there?”

It occurs to you on some level of consciousness that you’re rambling and already look like an idiot, but you can’t seem to figure out how to shut yourself up.

The guy you knocked over is bent over, a crown of shiny black hair the only distinguishable feature you can see at this point, and is putting the anatomy books back into a neat pile.

“I think this is it.” He says, his voice a surprisingly deep and attractive tone. You had a certain appreciation for a guy with a nice voice.

“Really? Okay. That’s good. Well, not good, because I just knocked all of this stuff out of your hands so really that’s not exactly a great way to introduce myself- well, not really introduce myself because it’s not like we’re friends or anything-”

The guy finally glances up at you, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips and holy crap is he attractive. Like, why did you have to crash into him?

The first thing you noticed was his eyes. They were huge and brown and melted your insides to a mushy pile of goo that rendered you unable to form coherent sentences.

He had great hair. It was perfectly styled and coifed, and you had this irresistible urge to run your fingers through it because you just knew it would be really soft.

His lips should be illegal. That’s all you’re going to say about that.

“I- I’m, gosh, um…” You can almost feel him judging you with those gorgeous eyes.

Why can’t you come up with a flirty, witty way to charm yourself out of this situation? You’ve seen other girls do it before, so why couldn’t you do the same?

“Well, at least I didn’t… you know… injure you because, then I’d… um… have to pay for medical bills, and I’m… broke, and that wouldn’t be… and you’re the doctor here- well, I think you are, because of your papers but I wasn’t trying to be nosy and snoop around your stuff… and… and…” You draw a blank because flirting, as you probably should have realized earlier, really wasn’t your thing.

Time to figure out a new way to dig yourself out of this hole.

The handsome boy just smiles at you, standing up and offering you a hand to help you off the floor.

He has large hands.

He’s also very tall.

“You look kind of young to be in this university.” He says, an amused glint twinkling in his eyes.

Why couldn’t he just have made a rude comment about your horrid flirting skills and left like any normal guy would have done?

“I’m a freshman!” You blurt out, but the guy just quirks an eyebrow skeptically because multiple people doubted that you were a senior in high school, much less a freshman in college.

“Really?” He chuckles, staring you down in a completely unfair way because those dang eyes of his should be outlawed in situations like this.

“No…” You mutter, crossing your arms dejectedly. “I’m a senior in high school.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” He comments, nodding. “I didn’t realize that tours extended to the library, though. I haven’t seen any other high school students wandering around these parts.”

You gulp nervously, because they boy has a mischievous sparkle in his eyes and you’re not sure what he’s planning to do to you.

"I’m… lost."

"Really now?" He chuckles. "And how in the world did the little high schooler get separated from the rest of the pack?"

"We were exploring… and then my parents just kinda left to go to the bathroom and now I’m… here."

“Now you’re here. In the part of the library reserved for upperclassmen studying for graduate studies or medical school.” He says, but his tone isn’t scolding or demeaning. As a matter of fact, he looks like he’s about to start laughing at you as your face turns an unappealing shade of tomato red.

“Oh… that’s why there’s not very many people here….” You say faintly, shuffling your feet awkwardly.

There’s a strained silence as you struggle to come up with something else to say the attractive boy, but you don’t trust yourself to try and flirt with him because that obviously worked so well the last time you tried it and you should probably just leave-

“Do you want to help me study?” He asks suddenly, and the request is so unexpected that you almost have to ask him to repeat the question because he couldn’t possibly be asking you for something like that-

“I mean, since you kind of owe me for knocking all of my stuff over and I need a study partner… plus, if you help me out I’ll ‘forget’ to mention seeing a little high schooler wandering around the off-limits library…” He edges, the sparkle still there and how the heck do you say no to a face like that?

It was impossible. It was a scientifically proven fact. Well, probably not because you at science and researching stuff like that and he’s the doctor here, but it was somewhat obvious that he had some sort of pull over you because soon enough you’re following him through the stacks of books to a secluded corner of the library.

You’re really hoping that he’s the kind of guy who only uses his pretty face for talking people into studying with him and not… other things. You’re not proud of it, but if he would try to talk you into doing… things with him, you’re not sure how much you’d be able to resist.

Hey. Don’t judge. You’ve never seen a guy as attractive as him and probably would never again, and he was a college guy, a medical student to be exact…

There were few guys out there that could meet those standards.

Soon enough, the two of you are situated comfortably in the corner of a rather old-looking part of the library that was otherwise unoccupied. He has a huge stack of papers that he needs to study for the entrance exam into med school, but it becomes rather obvious very fast how horrible you are at anatomy because you can’t pronounce half of the names and he has to go over term by term on how to say each one.

His name is Choi Minho, a student from Korea, and he’s a few years older than you. Minho had just finished up his pre-med studies and was now going forward with trying to get into med school. He wanted to be a surgeon and a few other things you can’t remember the names of, much less describe or understand so you’ll just have to leave those out for now.

Minho is nice. And kind of funny and goofy.

You already have a little crush on him.

“Okay, now, what’s the definition of… of… I don’t know how to pronounce this word.” You say, frowning at the flashcard. Minho laughs and grabs the corner of the flashcard, tugging it out of your hands and laying it down on the table.

“I think that’s enough studying for now.” He replies, grabbing the stack of notecards the two of you had already gone through and sliding them off to the side. “I think it’s time I find out a little bit more about my study buddy.”

You gulp and try not to start stuttering because honestly, you don’t know what kind of questions he’s going to ask but you just know that you’re going to say something weird and scare him away so you really hope he’s not going to start asking personal questions about your past boyfriends or-

“What do you plan on majoring in?” He asks, the slightly amused tone of his voice cutting your nervous inner dialogue.

“Major? Ah… English.” You answer uneasily, glad he’s sticking to generic questions but by devilish look on his face you’re afraid for the turn this conversation might take.

“English? Oh, that makes sense. I can tell by the way you talk.” He says, nodding slowly.

“The way I talk? Why does the way I talk make you assume I’m an English major?”

“I don’t know. There’s just a certain way smart people talk, especially English majors like you, that makes dumb people feel dumber and smart people enjoy your company more. I don’t really know how to describe it.” He shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

“Are you saying that I sound stuck-up and snobbish?” You ask, wondering if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult.

“No.. I talk that way too. You have a 4.0, don’t you?”

“How did you-”

“Not sure. It’s just the vibe I’m getting.”

“I’m producing a vibe?”

Minho laughs at your baffled expression, an action that reminds you of how freaking gorgeoushe is. It’s really not fair.

“Yes, a vibe.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, his chin laying in the palm of his hand as those beautiful brown eyes study you carefully. “What’s your favorite color?”

The question is innocent enough, but the tone of voice he’s using is so seductive it’s almost sinful.

You both hate and love the way he’s making you feel right now.  

“Blue?”

“Hm… let’s see… favorite TV show?”

“Doctor Who?”

“Why do you keep answering my questions with statements that sound like questions?”

“I don’t know, it’s just the way it’s coming out!”

“Am I making you flustered?” He jokes, leaning forward just enough to make you jump and lean away from him.

“Yes, I’m a little flustered!” You exclaim.

It occurs to you that nothing he’s said so far has been enough to justify your reaction, but it was the way he was talking to you and the way he was looking at you that made it feel so much more… personal. The questions themselves were ones an adult may ask you to initiate a form of awkward small talk, but you felt as though Minho was using that beautiful deep voice of his to manipulate them into questions meant to expose your inner soul.

Well, he probably didn’t actually have that intention in mind, but he was definitely aware that his questions had some sort of effect on you.

“Why are you so flustered?” He scoffs, leaning back. A smile twitches on the corner of his lips. “Do you not like me asking questions about you?”

If he didn’t make the questions sound like that, then you wouldn’t be having so many issues!

“I just… you’re…. I….”

“Are you hungry?” He interrupts quickly, changing the subject by pulling a jumbo bag of chips and dropping them on the table. Minho then pulls out two Cokes and slides one over to you.

"Do you always carry so much food with you?"

Minho twists the cap on the Coke and takes a swig of it, smiling. “Well, I was planning on meeting up with my roommate Kibum and he was going to help me study… but you’re much more interesting.”

“You think I’m interesting?” You ask skeptically, because until now no guy has even looked at you enough to realize that you were a prospective romantic interest of the opposite , much less think that you’re interesting.

“Very. I’ve also noticed something else, though, and I’d like to test out my theory.”

“What theory?” What could he possibly have a theory about already? Was it something bad? Why was he looking at you like that? Maybe you should go back to trying to find your parents-

“Don’t you dare try and leave now, missy.” He warns suddenly, and you jump so badly that you almost fall out of your chair.

“How did you-”

“-know that? It’s just a feeling, I guess. Hm, let me try again. Think about something.” Minho says, looking intrigued.

Well, right now you were thinking that this was completely insane and that there was no way that he could do this-

“You’re doubting my abilities, aren’t you? Come on, give me something harder!” He says, smiling and reaching across the table to poke your arm.

“Fine!” You agree, rolling your eyes. You still weren’t convinced in his newfound skills, though, and were starting to panic about your parents because you’d been gone for awhile now and gosh did you even think this through-

“You’re worrying about your parents… I think. Yeah. You look kind of worried…” He guesses, munching on a chip thoughtfully.

“That’s insane.” You say in disbelief, staring at Minho in shock.

“I was right?”

“Yeah, you were. What am I thinking now?” You lean across the table toward Minho, resting your chin in the palm of your hand.

“Hmm…” He ponders, matching your pose and allowing his beautiful eyes to search your’s. “You’re complimenting my eyes in your head, right?”

“Correct!” You say, smiling and scooching in closer to him. “Would you like to try your luck and go again?”

“Yes I would… hmm…. right now you’re thinking about…” He pauses to glance you over again, and then with a twitch of his lips he says, “Now you’re concentrating on my lips, aren’t you little one?”

Surprisingly, you don’t find the nickname offensive or annoying in the slightest. It’s actually kind of endearing, in a sense, and you like the way the it rolls off of his tongue.

“Do you like that nickname?”

The way Minho’s looking at you should be illegal in every sense of the word. Those eyes were quickly sending you into a downward spiral of irrational thought and dizzying emotion that weren’t doing much for your coherent thought process.

“I think I do…” You murmur. “What am I thinking now?”

“I know what I’m thinking now.” He murmurs back, leaning across the table slowly. “And I’m almost positive you’re thinking the same.”

There’s suddenly the light feeling of his soft lips on your’s and oh my God this is amazing and holy crap what the heck is going on here? Oh God. You don’t know how to kiss people. Why was he kissing you? The teasing was fine but why was he kissing you?

Minho realizes that you’re not kissing him back, so he pulls away slowly and studies your face carefully. “________? I’m sorry, was that… did you not want…. oh, damn, I’m sorry, did I just assume…?” His smooth-talking charismatic charm had disappeared and was replaced with a look of panic.

“I… You… It’s, I… wait, was I flirting before?” You ask, dumbfounded. You’ve never been able to actually successfully seduce and charm a guy before, and it only occurs to you now that what you had been doing before had indeed been a form of flirtation.

There’s a pause, and then Minho says rather confusedly, “Yes, I thought we were on the same page there, but I guess we weren’t… oh, God I really messed this up…” He mumbles, a red blush coloring his cheeks.   

“No! I mean, that’s not… oh, how do I say this… I’ve never really had a… boyfriend. So I really can’t flirt with guys and I don’t know what to say or do with them so just the fact that I didn’t scare you away is a miracle in itself-”

Minho leans across the table and drops a tiny peck on your lips in one fast, smooth motion. You sit in your chair like a speechless idiot and try to figure out why the heck he still showing interest in you that doesn’t involve reporting you to the campus police.

“Wha… why?”

“I think you’re cute. Isn’t that enough?” He says, a smirk tugging on those glorious lips of his.

Ugh. Lips. Kissing those lips. Those lips were on your’s.

Wait. Did he just call you cute?

“C-cute? Me? But… I’m…me.” You stutter.

“So? I still think you’re cute.”

“But… I can’t flirt and I’m still in high school and you’re in college and I-”

Minho interrupts you with a kiss once again and it’s shocking that he’s still here. Guys don’t stick around when you ramble like that.  “I think the way you try to flirt is cute. And age is but a number, little one, and I’m only a few years older than you anyway.” He smiles and stands up to slide into the chair next to you on the other side of the table. “Truth be told, I haven’t had a real girlfriend in ages. I mean, God knows I’ve tried, but either I act too cold or I’m too ‘dorky’ and I can’t seem to find a middle ground so what the heck are girls even looking for nowadays-”

This time, it’s your turn to interrupt him. You close the tiny gap between the two of you and press your lips to his, relishing in the fantastic feeling of taking Minho by surprise.

That initial feeling doesn’t last long. Soon, you feel his arms wrap around you and he deepens the kiss, and even though he claims not to have any experience with women, dang he is a good kisser.

Not that you really have a control group to compare your findings too. You just get the feeling that Minho is probably considered a great kisser among people who actually knew how to… you know, kiss other people.

Minho pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against your’s. “So, do you think you want to come to this university next year?” He says, smiling devilishly.

“Hm… maybe… but then again, I haven’t really seen much of this school aside from the library… so I think a private tour is in line.” You murmur back, embracing the new, bold persona Minho’s somehow helped you discover.

“A private tour? I think we can arrange that.” He replies, pulling away from you completely and standing up. “Come along, little one. We have a lot of ground to cover.” Minho offers you a hand and you accept is gratefully, intertwining your fingers with him.

You’d only known Minho for about an hour and you already feel like you’ve known him for years. He’s the kind of guy who makes you feel at ease, someone you can talk to and makes you feel safe. There’s a warm, bubbly feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never experienced before, but then again, you’ve never been in love like this.

In love. Is that was this was? Were you… in love?

Minho tugs you down the hallway, smiling down at you and laughing as you stumble over your own feet when he suddenly takes a turn.

Yeah. You were in love.

And you didn’t mind.