Minho was absolutely bored.
Minho's eyes bored into the blank, blue lined paper and had a blue pen gripped in his left hand. He didn't know what to write, and after 20 minutes of hardcore staring, it was beginning to show.
How do you write about something interesting in the room? What is there that's so interesting in a classroom? To Minho, absolutely nothing. Maybe if he was into writing, he could whip something up, but clearly, he wasn't.
It's not that writing was an absolute horror to him, but Minho just couldn't see himself following that path. He wasn't into it as much as other people could be, and quite frankly, Minho wasn't all that talented in writing.
Minho begged the counselors to put him in a dance class. Since he registered slightly later than the rest of the students, he couldn't pick the electives he wanted, and the dance classes were filled to the brim. Minho even asked them to put him in any level and he would be fine with it. But of course, they declined him any dance class.
Minho tried also asking for vocal classes if he couldn't do dance, and they could not give him what he wanted. Minho was so frustrated that day, he was so shocked he did not snap at the staff.
However, they told Minho that the writing classes were open and he accepted to take the class. He wasn't excited in the slightest, but that was his only option at this point since he absolutely needed an elective.
Minho used the top of the pen to scratch his head and he puffed out his cheeks in frustration. His eyes averted to the clock hanging on the wall right above the chalk board and sighed. About an hour left of this hellhole. Minho quietly groaned and put the pen down on his desk to bury his face into his palms.
I could just fall asleep.
No, I'll get detention for that.
I could ask for help after school...
No, I need to go home and crash out.
Maybe I could just write about how interesting the pencil sharpener is and make shit up!
No, I'm really bad at making stuff up.
Minho dropped his hands and pouted at the clock before peering over his shoulder to look around the classroom. His eyes kept moving slowly till they landed on a certain smaller boy near the back lost in his assignment.
Minho lightly cocked his head to the side and smiled to himself seeing Jisung so focused on his paper. Minho leaned into his left palm and continued to watch Jisung from afar.
Minho studied his every feature, such as his lightly puffed out cheeks that made him oh so adorable. His mouth was slightly ajar as he continued to jot down every word that came to his brain. His longer chestnut colored hair was almost blocking his face but Jisung never bothered to stop writing to move his hair out of his way. Minho couldn't stop wondering how he was writing so effortlessly.
He must really like this class huh?
As Minho studied Jisung from afar, his stomach was tingling constantly. He placed a hand over his stomach, confused as to what he was experiencing. Was he sick? Or was he nervous? Maybe something else entirely? Minho couldn't tell. His heart rate picked up a little faster once he focused on Jisung again, who was now licking his lips as he wrote.
Minho couldn't help but think about how adorable the younger was. He thought Jisung held galaxies in his eyes, and only if he could gaze into his darker orbs for hours on end, even through the round frames of his glasses. Minho wanted to pinch Jisung's cheeks and tell him how they suit him so well and make him look like a little squirrel. Minho desperately wished he could run his hands through Jisung's hair and let it slide through his fingers.
Jisung stood up to walk towards the teacher's desk and it startled Minho, waking him up from the trance Jisung captivated him in. His eyes followed Jisung towards the desk and he turned in his paper with a smile on his face. When Jisung turned to walk back to his desk, he caught Minho red handed and locked eyes with his for a mere moment.
Minho froze and didn't breathe for a few seconds. He suddenly felt hot and that the temperature rose extremely. Minho felt a sweat coming and he thought he was burning up.
Jisung smiled at him with the brightest smile anyone could carry and he waved at Minho. Minho thought his heart would explode from his heart rate picking up its pace by the second. He waved back and tried to play it cool by smiling back at the boy.
Jisung shuffled back to his desk and Minho's eyes never left him until he sat down. Minho faces the front of the room and wondered why he felt so nervous. He felt like this around Jisung too a couple of days ago in the library yet the feelings he experienced were more subtle. However, Minho couldn't keep his cool the last two times he spoke to Jisung.
Something about the boy made Minho feel tingly inside. Minho was a little scared that Jisung could look in his general direction and he would melt at the sight.
Why was he suddenly so nervous and shy around Jisung? Minho couldn't quite place his finger on it.
Although Minho didn't know a single thing about what he felt, he found it quite interesting how Jisung had this effect on him.
Minho smiled to himself and clicked his blue pen. He started to put the ink to the paper and began to write out exactly what he was thinking.
There's a younger, adorable boy in this class that I find quite interesting.
~~~
A/N: hello my lovelies <3 here's a short chapter for you guys, and a little break from the diary format I've been using
I just want to thank you for 100 reads, it never fails to blow my mind when my stories have hit 100 read milestones, it really makes me happy to think people find my stories interesting and want to tune in even more :)
Please keep interest! I know things are going slow but I'll try to write my chapters faster and get this story going! Have a lovely morning 💖
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dear diary, // minsung
Fanfiction"how are you going to return it if there's no name on it?" "I guess I'll just have to read in order to find out who it belongs to." ~~~ minho finds a diary on the floor of the school hallway, and it has no name attached. minho is going to do everyth...