𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

san || lessons

° Credits to the owner of the picture °
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You quickly threw your headphones and house keys into your gym bag. You were going to be late again. With one gym shoe's laces still untied, you pulled a cropped jumper over your head and ran for the door.

"Crap. San's not gonna be happy," you mumbled to yourself. You squatted down to tie up your shoelaces. Then you hastily tucked your phone into the side pocket of your bag, securing the strap around your shoulder. It wasn't going to be pleasant to jog with a heavy gym bag, but there was no other option. At least you'd be warmed up by the time you reached the gym.

A lot of people, especially young men, eyed you as you passed by them in hurry. You couldn't care less. They were nothing compared to your crush a.k.a. attractive personal trainer. But you probably had better chances with them than with him. Choi San was honestly one of those out-of-reach type of guys.

"Excuse me," you apologized to an elderly lady whom you had to squeeze past. You grunted in frustration when a group of tourists crowded in front of the gym that was just up ahead.

Boy, were you gonna be in deep fried  trouble.

You crossed your arms and impatiently tapped your foot on the pavement.
"Finally," you mumbled when you saw a gap in between the group. You slid through them, careful not to knock anyone over with your weighted gym bag.

However, the door wouldn't budge, leaving you confused. You continued to push it a few more times, until you saw the sign that read "pull". Dammit.

You took a deep breath to recollect your honour and calm yourself. Then you pulled open the door like it was the most natural thing to do after the embarrassing event of trying to push open a pull-door.

A few people turned their attention to you as soon as you stepped foot inside. Their gazes made your cheeks burn up. You hated being the centre of attention.

You passed awkward smiles to the guys and girls as you passed them. The familiar figure of a young guy, dressed in sweats and a black muscle tank, came into view in the corner of the gym. He was facing you with his back, unbeknownst of your arrival. Taking quick steps, you headed towards him.

He was busy throwing jabs and punches to a bright red boxing bag. You couldn't see his face clearly, but you were sure that it was laced with concentration. His skin was damp, and the muscles on his arms flexed with each blow to the bag. It was impossible not to stare.

The male abruptly stopped when he noticed you, and directed his gaze towards you. His black bangs half-covered his auburn eyes. "Oh, hi y/n," he smirked. He just caught you staring.

"H-hi," you stuttered as a reply.
"Glad to see you made it." He was still smirking while his eyes scanned over your jumper. "Gym and tonic. Nice one," he laughed, referring to the statement on your jumper.
You let out a half-hearted chuckle. Why did this man have to make you so nervous?

"On a more serious note though, you are late."

You immediately stepped forward to verbally defend yourself. "San, I'm sorry. I got caught up."
"This is the third time you've been late, you know." San leaned against a nearby machine, tilting his head so that his neck and collarbone was a little more exposed.

You gulped. "I-I know. I just ... ugh, I should just better manage my time. I'm sorry."
San chuckled. "You weren't as late today as last time though, so I'll forgive you. Also, you know that you can just ask me to pick you up so you don't have to jog with that heavy bag every time." He gestured towards the bag that was still hanging over your shoulder.
"Right," you replied and dropped the bag onto the floor.