Help Me Out? (Seongjoong)

~13~

*not proofread. Ignore my typos. Sorry*

[comments are always very welcome!]

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The moment I heard Seonghwa talk about his writing class, I knew he'd be in my gen ed class.

"I will be taking attendence for just this one, first class"
Our professor spoke , beginning the process of naming over sixty names. Unnecessarily, might I add.

"Seonghwa Park."
Silence.
And he gave me shit for being late.
"Seonghwa. Park."
Silence.
"Seon-"
And just like that, the door swings open. A breathless Seonghwa behind it.
"Here."
He said, slightly doubled over.

His eyes scan the room, searching for a seat. I tap the wooden chair next to me. He begins walking twords me. His eyes still looking for somewhere else.

"Hey, Hwa. There's a seat up here."
I call out, loud enough the whole room most likely hears. Seonghwa jogged up the isle I was in, plucking angerily into the seat next to me.

"Keep you voice down for once. Please."
Clear annoyance rested in his face as he opened his notebook. Focusing his whole attention onto the professor.

We were working on a Shakespeare classic. "Twelfth Night" aka, the best classic play of all time. And trust me, I've read plenty of classics. They brought me a sense of... Comfort, when I was young.

It was the most quiet section of the library. And I loved that silence. My home was loud at all hours. But not with fun or laughter.

I would sit and read for hours. I fell in love with every book I read. Reading, much like music, was an escape.

Seonghwa's words from earlier randomly come back to me.
"Because you don't feel all that strongly twords your boyfriend, or you wouldn't have been flirting with Chanhee the entire party."

As much as I pretended to be fine with it, it really did bother me. To the point of not even enjoying this lecture about my favorite fucking play.

I mean. He's never even kissed someone. What does he even know?

I shake my head to myself. Literally trying to 'shake' the thoughts. I glance around the room, my gaze falling on Seonghwa quicker then I'd like to admit. My skin prickled at his appearance. Something about him just-

"And you?"
The professor's voice echoed.

I blink my eyes at him. He had his glasses pulled down to the tip of his nose. His facial expression screaming "this student won't know A damn thing." And I can proudly admit, he was wrong. A few heads turn in my direction.

Seonghwa turns, his eyebrows raising. Loving the idea of watching me fail this question. That tended to be everyone's MO around me. I somehow was placed as the 'dumb' student all my life. Which was quite surprising. At least to me.

"Who? Me?"
I ask. My eyes flickering from him to the wall behind.

"Yes,"
This man could not be more smug.
"You."

He had a condescending expression. Almost bordering on pity. As if I hadn't read this play a billion times. As if my gay ass hadn't watched the movie almost every week since I was nine.

"Let me think."
I grab the book off of Seonghwa's desk, flipping through the pages to act 1 scene 5.
"How now? Even so quickly one may catch the plague?"
I recite.
"Love. That's the plague he's talking about. You can 'catch' love fast. In other words, you fall hard as hell. But, here's the catch. Are you falling out of love or lust. That's the real question."
My head cocks to Seonghwa on my right.
"Projection much?"
Seonghwa snorts. And I sort of wonder if he's aware everyone is hearing him.
"Love and lust are practically the same. Both of them are love, are they not?"
He asks, a smug look sitting on his face.
"Plus, every character in the play rides off into the sunset in the end. So, it doesn't matter."

He had a point. It had a happy ending. Most books tend to. What was an enjoyable read without happiness in the end. Every character struggles until the end. And they all seem fine with that.

"What about after the end?"
I ask.
"You don't know what happens after. How long does the plague last before it dies off?"

I could watch Seonghwa process my words.
"Why does it have to be bad?"
Seonghwa asks.

I open my mouth to reply. But I didn't have one. He was actually right.

Why do I go to the worst possible situation. Why does it have to be bad?

For myself? For Seonghwa? For who? Who do I think it will be bad for. Maybe that's why I'm so scared.

Maybe Jisung is the right person.
Maybe I'm the right perond.
And maybe Seonghwa and Chanhee are perfect for each other.

The professor finally turns away. But me and Seonghwa don't. His eye contacted lasted before I was the one to break it. Forcing my gaze to the lined paper of my notebook.

"It doesn't have to be bad."
I finally answer. And I actually mean it.

As soon as the class is over Seonghwa had collected his things, and is on his way out of the room before I even have my pen down.

I fumble grabbing up all of my things and practically sprinting to grab his arm. And I actually manage it.

"Hwa!"

"What Hongjoong?"
He sighs tunring to me.
"I've got another class."

"Next bio calss, we're sitting next to Chanhee. Got me?"
I point at him. Hopefully getting my point fully across.

He's gotta get past step one. That's the plan right now. I'll figure out the rest later. Part one? Solid. The rest. Not so much. I'll get there.

"We have to be on time though. Can't be late."
I let go of his arm, smiling. I can see a smile cracking over his face, no matter how hard he tries to seem annoyed.

"See you at six twenty am."
He called disappearing up the staircase.

I smile at his back, his fluffy black hair bouncing with each step. Though his head pops back around the corner, eyes meeting mine.

"Oh, and Hongjoong. I'm sorry for what I said... Yknow... In the library."
His round dark eye softening.
"It's no big deal."

Me and Seonghwa may not be friends. But I actually think we might be getting there. I could see myself spending a lot more time with Park Seonghwa.

A/N
Once again, I'm sorry for the typos.

And also, I fucking love Shakespeare, so enjoy that little addition to the book

I studied his plays an entire school year (way back in 8th) and I've absolutely loved his plays since.