You watched as Jimin mouthed a ‘hwaiting’ and slowly slip out of the class, arm free from your grasp. Several other girls keeping their eyes on you left after.

            Soon, it was just the two of you.

            Alone.

            “I’d like it if you closed the door.”

            Startled at the sudden command, you found yourself doing what he told you to. Hand still on the knob, thoughts of making a dash for it circling your head, you peered at the male. He was leisurely leaning his back on the chair, phone in his hands, eyelashes down, elbow propped on the armrest.

            A minute passed before your patience got the best of you. If he wanted to talk to you, shouldn’t he actually say something?  Glancing at him one last time and seeing him in the same position, you went on to turn the doorknob.

            “So you are a baby still in school.”

            Yoongi spun his chair to face you, tilting his head, eyes boring into yours.

            “That dress you wore could’ve fooled me… But here you are.”

            You froze, hand falling from the knob. He noticed your freaking dress. Trying to maintain your composure, you cleared your throat before daring to take a step towards him.

            “Why are you even here?” You managed to say, mentally praising yourself for not stuttering.

            Yoongi tsked, lifting his up from the chair. Eyes still on you, he walked closer.

            Déjàvu.

            “Weren’t you paying attention just now?”

            “I-”

            “You sure were paying attention to me though.” He gave you that smirk.

            Swallowing the lump in your throat, you bit your tongue, thinking of a payback.

            “Let me refresh your brain…” He stared. “________.”

            You stood in your place.

            “I’m gonna be your math teacher.” He simply said, a smile threatening to show – but didn’t.

            Regaining your senses at the statement, you straightened your back. Looking up at the male, you finally said, “Aren’t you well off?”

            His eyes were expressionless.

            Unsure, you continued, “Why are you working here then?”

            The corner of his lips tilting upwards, he leaned his face closer to yours. “I have my reasons.”

            Struggling to keep your stance, you croaked out, “H-How much is the fee?”

            “Oh.” He leaned back, eyebrows raised in sarcastic shock. “You remembered.”

            Frown knitted on your forehead, you shot him a look. “I told you to text me, but you didn’t.”

            “Were you waiting for me to text you?”

            “I-” You let out a frustrated sigh. “Forget it. Why am I even-” Turning on your heels, you reached out a foot to head out of the classroom.

            “You wanna know the price.” A hand firmly gripped your wrist, question coming out more as a statement.

            Eyeing the large hand, you trailed up to his nonchalant face.

            “The shirt’s custom made.” He started; hand still on your wrist.

            You kept silent, waiting for him to continue.

            “Each button is about…” He his lips. “…one grand.”

            At that, your eyes widened. ‘What the actual f-’