Minho is Felix's language teacher, and they were seated in Felix's room, the atmosphere thick with the unspoken tension of their close proximity. Books and papers were strewn across the desk, but Felix found it nearly impossible to concentrate.
"Felix, focus on the book!" Minho exclaimed, his voice firm yet laces with an undertone of playful frustration. But how could Felix focus when Minho looked so captivating?
He wore a fitted white t-shirt that hugged his arms, showcasing the definition of his muscles. The fabric accentuated every contour, leaving Felix momentarily breathless. Paired with tight black jeans and classic Vans, Minho exuded a casual confidence was hard to ignore.
Felix shifted in his seat, a flush creeping up his neck. "I'm sorry... I'm having trouble focusing," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't help but let his gaze wonder, taking in every detail: the way Minho's shirt clung to his form, the easy way he carried himself, and the way his hair fell just slightly over his forehead.
Minho raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Really? Because it seems like you're more interested in me than your studies."
Felix chuckled nervously, feeling exposed under Minho's knowing gaze. "Maybe you're right," he confessed, unable to mask the admiration in his eyes.
Minho leaned back slightly, crossing his arms, his demeanor shifting from teacher to something more personal. "Well, if you want to pass this class, you might want to redirect that focus back to your lessons."
Felix swallowed hard, torn between the thrill of the moment and the pressure of his studies. "I'll try," he promised, but his heart raced, captivated not just by Minho's appearance, but by the undeniable chemistry crackling between them.
YOU ARE READING
Language Session
Fanfiction"Felix focus on the book!" "I can't focus with you right next to me"
