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Summary
The more classes they shared, the more he found out that Jeno Lee was nothing but a stuck-up golden-boy, a stickler for the rules no matter how little or insignificant they may be. He insisted on drilling etiquettes and manners into Jaemin’s skull like his whole existence was barbaric in itself. Don't sit on the table, Jaemin. You can’t ask for an extension just because you forgot to do it, Jaemin!
"If I didn't know any better, I would've thought he was obsessed with me," Jaemin scoffs. He had forgotten all about Jeno — although he can't say the same for Jeno with how consistently hell-bent he is on getting under Jaemin's skin.
"Maybe he is," Renjun's gaze darted over his shoulder. He sees Jeno on the other side, his backpack and group of friends in tow. Behind his rimmed glasses, he gives Jaemin a glance over, and that signature scowl on his face whenever he sees him appears before Jaemin could forget it.
"If you just look at him, that frown of his can be pretty cute."