Chapter Text
The campus seemed particularly bright that afternoon, as if the sun had decided to cooperate with someone’s internal drama. Students crossed the outdoor corridors between buildings with heavy backpacks, coffee in hand and enough haste to justify any accidental bump. There was the mixed scent of freshly cut grass, perfume far too expensive for a Tuesday and the distant aroma of frying oil from the central cafeteria.
In the middle of that scenery, Hyunjin walked.
Sunglasses too large for his own face — even though the day was partially cloudy — a cup of almost untouched passion fruit juice trapped between his long fingers and a straw he absentmindedly sucked on, more out of anxiety than thirst. His posture belonged to someone trying to look relaxed. The expression, behind the dark lenses, revealed a constant state of vigilance.
Beside him, Chan talked.
He talked as if he had received the official mission to fill every silence on campus with his own voice. He talked as if he were competing with an imaginary podcast.
— And I’m telling you, if you don’t go today, you never will. This has already become a case study. I could write an article: The man who observed, but never acted.
Hyunjin didn’t respond.
Chan continued, unwavering.
— You’ve drawn him like twenty times. Twenty. I counted. There’s a version with a lab coat, a smiling version, a version holding a dog, a slow-motion imaginary version. This is not healthy.
Hyunjin sucked the juice through the straw.
Chan narrowed his eyes.
— Are you even listening to me?
No reaction.
Chan followed the path of Hyunjin’s invisible gaze — because he already knew that pattern. It only took a slight turn of his head to understand.
And there he was.
Felix.
Walking down the side corridor that connected the Biology building to the university’s veterinary hospital, white lab coat open, light shirt underneath, blond hair shining under the diffuse afternoon light. He was laughing at something, head tilted back, eyes nearly closing in the process.
And beside him.
Minho.
Calm steps, hands in his pockets, an expression too neutral for someone who had clearly just said something funny. There was something in his posture that conveyed silent authority — or maybe just constant judgment.
Hyunjin froze mid-gesture, the straw suspended between his lips as if even the air had decided to interrupt its flow; his eyes fixed on an invisible point, and for a second the world seemed to lower its volume around him, muffling sounds, footsteps and breathing, as if reality itself were waiting for a reaction that did not come. In front of him, Chan watched the scene with the almost scientific serenity of someone observing a predictable natural phenomenon — something he already knew would happen, he just didn’t know exactly when — and, with a low, disbelieving sigh, murmured a single comment that broke the thick silence.
— Unbelievable — he muttered.
Hyunjin was completely still. His body kept walking by reflex, but his brain had crossed the campus and was tracking every tiny detail: the way Felix gestured while speaking, the way the sleeve of his lab coat slid slightly along his forearm, the smile too wide to be allowed by university regulations.
Minho tilted his face toward Felix, listening attentively.
Hyunjin tightened his grip on the cup.
The juice rose through the straw purely from nervous pressure.
— You’re staring at him again — Chan declared.
Silence.
— You do know sunglasses don’t make this any less obvious, right?
Hyunjin finally spoke, voice low:
— I’m not staring.
Chan stopped so abruptly that the air around them seemed to follow the sharpness of the gesture, and the silence that followed was dense enough to be noticed; Hyunjin, too distracted by his own thoughts, still took two careless steps before realizing the absence of that constant presence beside him, turning slowly, almost cautiously, only to find Chan standing a few meters behind, posture rigid, arms crossed over his chest in a closed and definitive gesture that said far more than any word could.
— Hyunjin, you tilted your entire body in his direction, if you lean one more centimeter, you’re going to start orbiting him.
Hyunjin sighed, pulling the straw from his mouth with a look of false indifference.
— I was just… looking.
— You were analyzing him like he was a Renaissance painting.
Hyunjin fell silent, because that wasn’t wrong.
There was something about the way Felix moved that seemed drawn with too much intention. The softness of his gestures. The way he touched Minho’s arm while laughing.
Chan resumed walking beside him.
— You know he’s not spontaneously going to realize you exist if you keep acting like some mysterious background extra.
Hyunjin pressed his lips together.
— He has a boyfriend.
Chan rolled his eyes.
— We’ve been over this.
— Been over what?
The voice came from behind them, far too soft for someone who had clearly heard the entire conversation.
Chan didn’t even need to turn to recognize it. A second later, Jeongin appeared between them, slipping into the space with irritating naturalness, as if he had always been there. Backpack slung over one shoulder, expression far too curious to be innocent.
Hyunjin closed his eyes for half a second.
Chan sighed dramatically.
— We’ve been over the phase where Hyunjin makes up that Felix has a boyfriend just to justify the fact that he’s a coward.
— I’m not a coward — Hyunjin replied immediately, defensive.
Jeongin tilted his head.
— Are you running away again?
Silence.
Chan subtly pointed forward with his chin.
Felix was only a few meters away now, still walking beside Minho, completely oblivious to the existential crisis he was causing.
Jeongin followed the gesture.
— Oh. — An oh full of understanding.
— I see.
Hyunjin took an aggressive sip of his juice as if that would solve anything.
Jeongin crossed his arms.
— So today’s plan was to pretend he doesn’t exist?
— Today’s plan — Chan interrupted — was for him to finally act like a functional adult.
— I am functional.
— You crossed the entire corridor avoiding his line of sight like it was a survival exercise.
Jeongin let out a short laugh.
— Last week you almost walked into the women’s bathroom trying to avoid running into him.
Hyunjin slowly turned his face.
— That was a miscalculation.
— It was panic — Chan corrected.
Jeongin observed his friend with an almost clinical look.
— You know he’s not spontaneously going to discover you’re in love with him if you keep treating him like radiation, right?
Hyunjin tightened his grip on the cup.
— I’m not treating him like radiation.
— You literally changed your route three times yesterday.
Chan nodded.
— Confirmed, I have the mental map of all of them.
Jeongin looked toward Felix again, who was now laughing at something Minho had said.
— So it’s because of the boyfriend?
Hyunjin went rigid.
— He has a boyfriend.
Chan took a deep breath, as if revisiting an old thesis.
— No, he doesn’t.
— And the guy who walks with him every day? — Hyunjin shot back, discreetly pointing.
Jeongin narrowed his eyes.
— The serious-looking one?
— That one.
— You think they’re dating?
Hyunjin stayed silent, which was answer enough.
Jeongin studied the scene for a few more seconds.
Minho slightly tilted his head toward Felix, attentive, following every word while he gestured with exaggerated enthusiasm, his hands drawing in the air everything his excitement couldn’t contain.
Jeongin made a faint face.
— They have zero couple energy.
Hyunjin frowned.
— How can you tell?
Jeongin shrugged.
— I’ve been dating long enough to recognize when two people are romantically involved. That right there is I’ll hit you if you cross the street without looking energy.
Chan snapped his fingers.
— Exactly!
Hyunjin looked from one to the other.
— You’re drawing conclusions based on… vibes?
Jeongin gave a small smile.
— You’re drawing conclusions based on your own crazy head.
Chan placed a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.
— My walking platonic love, you created an entire relationship in your head.
Hyunjin let the straw fall from his mouth.
— They walk together every day.
— Maybe because they study in the same field? — Jeongin suggested.
— Maybe because they have projects together? — Chan added.
— Maybe because…
Jeongin leaned slightly forward.
— You’re scared of finding out you actually have a chance?
That hit him directly, not like an ordinary insult, but like an uncomfortable truth finding the exact fragile spot. Hyunjin didn’t answer — not out of indifference, but because any word in that moment would sound like confirmation.
Chan watched his friend with an expression that mixed impatience and affection.
— He’s running away again — he declared to Jeongin, as if presenting an official report.
Jeongin sighed.
— You promised you’d try this week.
Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair.
— I just… don’t want to embarrass myself.
— You already do — Chan replied without hesitation.
— Chan!
Jeongin took two steps forward, partially blocking Hyunjin’s line of sight to where Felix was.
— Let’s simplify — he said. — What’s the worst-case scenario?
Hyunjin answered too quickly:
— He says he has a boyfriend.
— And then?
— Then I die.
Jeongin shook his head.
— No, you’re sad for three days, you listen to dramatic music and then you get over it.
Chan nodded.
— I’ll supervise the process.
Hyunjin looked toward Felix again. Minho lightly touched his shoulder to draw his attention to something on his phone. Hyunjin felt his stomach tighten.
Jeongin followed his gaze.
— You’re making that face again.
— What face?
— The suffering protagonist with unrequited pain face.
Chan laughed.
— He already wrote the entire mental soundtrack.
Hyunjin took a deep breath.
— You don’t understand.
Jeongin raised an eyebrow.
— Then explain.
Hyunjin hesitated.
And for the first time, the answer came less dramatic and more honest.
— I’ve liked him for months. I watch him. The way he talks to animals. The way he laughs. The way he holds things carefully. I don’t want to turn that into an awkward moment.
Chan softened his tone.
— And you’d rather turn it into eternal frustration?
Felix began to drift away from Minho, walking alone toward the Veterinary building.
Jeongin noticed first.
— Look.
Chan inhaled deeply.
— This is the cinematic moment.
Jeongin stepped aside, clearing the way.
— Go.
Chan moved closer, voice lower now.
— You don’t have to confess. Just… say hi.
Jeongin added:
— Find out if the bunny is really a boyfriend before you officially suffer.
Chan placed a hand on his back.
— Move.
Felix was almost entering the building. Hyunjin started walking with a determination that wasn’t quite firm, but not hesitant either — the kind of automatic movement born when pride pushes the body before the mind has time to process what it’s feeling.
Ahead, Felix was already reaching the door, his fingers nearly touching the handle, as if he were a second away from disappearing out of reach. The simple gesture ignited something urgent in Hyunjin; he sped up without realizing it, his breathing growing shorter, his heart beating far too fast for someone pretending indifference.
— Hey!
Felix interrupted his step, as if he had felt his own name brush against the back of his neck even before hearing any sound clearly; then he turned calmly, the movement light and natural, and a smile appeared almost instantly on his lips — soft, curious, carrying that mixture of gentleness and attentiveness that always seemed to follow him — before he tilted his head slightly and let out a simple and disarming.
— Hi?
Behind him, at a strategically safe distance, Chan held Jeongin’s arm to stop him from interfering.
— If he runs now, I give up — Jeongin murmured.
And that was exactly when the universe decided to intervene.
There was a slight irregularity in the ground — a nearly imperceptible unevenness, too discreet to draw the attention of any ordinary person, yet dangerously enough to betray a lovestruck artist running under the influence of almost cinematic romantic desperation. Hyunjin’s foot caught on that small urban flaw as if the world had decided to interrupt his dramatic momentum; his body tilted forward at a treacherous angle, balance evaporating in a silent and cruel second, while the cup of juice slipped from his hand, freeing itself from his fingers before he could even react.
Felix blinked — a brief, almost innocent gesture — and in the minimal interval between closing and opening his eyes, Hyunjin realized too late the disaster about to unfold; the cup tipped, the liquid escaped in a treacherous arc, and the juice flew through the air as if in slow motion before hitting, directly and without mercy, Felix’s face.
Absolute silence in the hallway.
Hyunjin hit the ground right after, sprawled in an undignified manner, sunglasses crooked, one hand still extended as if he could rewind time and grab his own mistake.
Felix remained still. His lab coat now stained a soft yellow. A few drops running down his chin. A small amount of juice, treacherous, had reached his lips. And then he slowly spat out the little juice that had entered his mouth.
The sound was small, but it echoed in Hyunjin’s consciousness like an official declaration of emotional bankruptcy.
Behind them, Chan and Jeongin were petrified.
Jeongin brought a hand to his mouth. Chan stared at the scene like someone witnessing a car accident in slow motion.
— I take it back — Jeongin murmured. — It would have been better if he had run.
Chan released his arm and ran a hand over his face.
— He managed to turn a “hi” into citrus assault.
Hyunjin remained stretched out on the floor, motionless enough for the idea of simply pretending to faint to begin sounding not only tempting but strategically brilliant; within seconds, his mind was already evaluating more drastic alternatives — faking his own death, disappearing off the map, maybe even changing countries and adopting a new identity somewhere accidents involving juice did not ruin entire reputations. The problem was that he could still hear his own accelerated breathing echoing in his ears, reminding him that, unfortunately, he was very much alive to sustain any of those options with dignity.
Felix blinked again, slowly, as if his brain were rebooting after an embarrassing short circuit; his eyes lowered to his own stained lab coat, analyzed the damage with almost clinical calm, then moved to the sticky floor and finally settled on Hyunjin — who remained there, discarded, defeated by gravity and shame. The silence stretched heavily between them, dense enough to crush any hope of escape, and Hyunjin felt, with painful clarity, that he needed to say something. Anything. Before that muteness officially became worse than the impact.
— I… — his voice came out weak. — I can explain.
Hyunjin was still sprawled on the floor, sunglasses crooked on his face and the rest of his dignity evaporating along with the juice running down the pavement. He tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but slipped slightly on his own citrus tragedy.
— It wasn’t personal. I mean, it was personal in the sense that I was coming to talk to you, but the juice was not directed with hostile intent. I do not throw beverages at people as a method of social approach.
Hyunjin tried to sit properly.
— I just tripped. I saw you going in and thought “now or never”, so it was more “now”, but then it turned into “never leaving the house again”. I swear I’m not violent. I’m actually against juice waste. I’ve been drinking this for twenty minutes because I was nervous and— that doesn’t help, does it?
Felix opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but before any answer could come—
— Hyunjin?
Seungmin appeared from the side of the hallway with quick steps, concerned expression. He analyzed the scene in a second: Hyunjin on the floor, Felix stained, juice spilled.
— Are you okay? — he asked, already crouching beside his friend.
Hyunjin closed his eyes for a second. Great, expanded audience.
— I’m alive — he replied, which was not exactly the same as being okay.
Seungmin assessed his state, then lifted his gaze to Felix. The expression subtly shifted to something more attentive.
— Did he push you?
— No! — Hyunjin answered too quickly.
Felix raised his eyebrows slightly.
— He tripped — he said, finally speaking, calm voice. — And hit me with juice.
— Of course he did — Seungmin murmured, as if he did not even need to think much to know that it was exactly like his friend.
At that moment, Chan and Jeongin finally decided that the safe distance no longer made sense and hurried over.
Chan arrived first.
— Is he conscious?
— If it were me in his place I wouldn’t want to be — Jeongin completed.
Hyunjin shot them a wounded look.
— You are not helping.
Felix was still observing everything in silence.
Trying to keep up with the chaotic flow of people around someone who, until two minutes ago, was just a stranger rushing toward him.
And as if the universe had not yet finished amplifying the embarrassment, two laughs emerged further back. Changbin and Jisung were approaching.
— Did I see that from far away? — Jisung asked between laughs. — He really—
— Threw liquid art — Changbin completed.
Changbin tilted his head.
— So, artist — he said, looking at Hyunjin — is this your new work? Interactive performance?
Jisung let out an open laugh.
— Too conceptual for me.
Seungmin stood up slowly — very slowly — as if each centimeter of movement needed to be calculated before happening. The slight concern that had previously softened his features had completely disappeared, replaced by a firm, almost impenetrable expression that hardened his gaze and subtly tensed his jaw. The air around him seemed denser when he finally took a step toward Changbin, not rushed, but determined, carrying in the silence of the gesture something far more eloquent than any word could be.
Chan immediately noticed the shift in atmosphere.
— Seungmin—
But it was too late.
Seungmin placed a hand on Hyunjin’s chest and, without much ceremony, pushed him back, practically throwing him against Chan, who caught him by reflex.
— Hey! — Chan complained.
Seungmin turned back to Changbin, firm posture.
— Listen here.
Changbin arched an eyebrow.
— Oh.
— You are strong — Seungmin continued, voice overly controlled — but you are not two. I will end you if you keep messing around with my friend.
Seungmin took another step forward, breathing deeply as if about to defend an extremely complex case.
— Just because Hyunjin is a clumsy fool, who trips over his own air, who has already gotten lost going from the bedroom to the kitchen, who burns instant noodles, who almost put detergent in the rice “because the packages look similar”, who once dropped his phone on his own face while lying down, and who managed to lose his keys inside his own house — twice — does not mean you get to laugh at him.
Hyunjin, still trapped in Chan’s arms, timidly raised his hand.
— I heard that.
— Be quiet — Seungmin replied without looking back.
Chan murmured in Hyunjin’s ear:
— I love when he goes into defense attorney mode.
Jeongin crossed his arms, watching as if analyzing a social documentary.
Changbin raised his hands in partial surrender.
— Relax, we’re just joking.
Seungmin held Changbin’s gaze for two more seconds before finally relaxing his shoulders.
— Then keep the joke to yourself.
The silence grew heavy for a moment. Changbin raised an eyebrow, Jisung held back laughter, and Felix remained standing, observing everything with that neutral expression of someone still deciding whether this was a disaster or entertainment.
Seungmin took a deep breath.
He looked at Changbin. Then at Jisung. Finally, his eyes briefly passed over Felix — evaluating — and returned to Changbin.
— And do me a favor — he said, firm. — Keep your friend away from Hyunjin.
Changbin blinked.
— Me?
— You! You are a bad influence on him.
Jisung opened his mouth, indignant.
— We didn’t even do anything!
— It doesn’t matter, I did not like your face, Mr. Squirrel — Seungmin retorted.
Hyunjin finally reacted.
— I’m still here!
— Unfortunately — Seungmin replied, closing his eyes and lowering his head.
Hyunjin turned red.
Felix, in the background, seemed very close to laughing.
Before Hyunjin could continue defending himself, Seungmin simply grabbed his hand and pulled.
— Let’s go.
— Hey!
Hyunjin almost tripped again, being dragged to the opposite side. Chan and Jeongin followed, exchanging amused looks.
A few meters ahead, Seungmin finally stopped and released his hand.
— You should thank me.
— Thank you? — Hyunjin repeated, indignant.
— I showed up to defend your honor and save what was left of your dignity.
— I still have dignity!
Jeongin laughed.
— Where?
Hyunjin ignored him.
— Everything was under control — he insisted, quieter now.
Seungmin crossed his arms.
— Nothing was under control. You turned a “hi” into a juice attack.
Chan nodded.
— It was quite dramatic.
Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair.
— I was going to fix it.
Jeongin tilted his head, laughing without the slightest effort to disguise it.
— Fix it? Hyunjin, you didn’t fix anything. You just added juice to the situation.
Hyunjin opened his mouth to argue. Closed it.
Because, when he looked over his shoulder, he saw Felix still standing near the entrance, clearly observing everything with a curious glint in his eyes.
Hyunjin immediately crossed his arms, sulking.
— I had a plan — he murmured.
Jeongin laughed again.
— You had, in the past, before the juice.