Hidden Desires [Park Jimin X Character]

Chapter 2

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"I think my last class is Art," Mae said, scrolling through her phone for confirmation before giving a small nod to Minji.

Minji grinned, nudging Mae's shoulder. "Perfect. I've got literature next, so we'll split here. But don't leave without me, alright? I'll be waiting outside," she said with a wink.

Mae chuckled softly. "I won't run off," she replied, feeling a little less anxious with Minji around.

"Good," Minji smiled and then glanced into the classroom, nodding and flashing a polite smile at someone inside. One thing Mae quickly understood about Minji was her popularity.

As they walked together, several students greeted Minji with waves and smiles, making Mae feel like she was walking beside someone who naturally attracted attention.

Turning back to Mae, she added, "You've got this. Text me if you need anything," she said, her voice softer as if trying to reassure her.

Mae nodded, offering a grateful smile. "Thanks, Minji."

With one last pat on Mae's shoulder, Minji waved and disappeared down the hall, leaving Mae standing at the classroom door. As soon as she was alone, the earlier anxiety surged back, twisting in her stomach. She took a deep breath and stepped inside, her gaze focused straight ahead.

There was still some time before the class officially started, and only a handful of students were scattered around, talking in hushed tones. A few glanced in her direction, making her heartbeat quicken.

Finding an empty stool in front of a large white canvas, she hesitated for a moment, praying it wasn't already someone's spot. She quickly sat down, setting her bag beside her and unzipping it to reveal her neatly packed art supplies.

The brushes and paints were pristine, expensive gifts from her father on her 17th birthday. She arranged them meticulously on the table, feeling slightly calmer as she did. Once everything was in place, she exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself.

"You must be Bora Mae," a voice said from behind, making her jump. She turned to see a woman in her mid-forties, her expression warm and welcoming, eyes crinkling with a smile as she glanced at Mae's organized setup.

Mae immediately recognized her as the professor. She quickly composed herself, offering a polite smile. "Yes, I am," she replied.

The professor straightened, smiling back. "Welcome to the class, Mae. I've heard quite a bit about you," she said, her tone filled with admiration. "I've also seen some of your previous work, and I must say... you're incredibly talented. It's not often I come across students with such a unique touch."

Mae felt her heart swell with pride, though embarrassment tingled at the compliments. "That means a lot," she said softly.

The professor chuckled. "Keep painting with that passion, and I'm sure we'll be hanging your work in the chairman's office by the end of the year," she teased lightly, ruffling Mae's hair before moving on.

As soon as the professor moved on, Mae exhaled a deep, shaky breath, her chest rising as she tried to calm her rapid heartbeat. The earlier appreciation still lingered in her thoughts, warming her cheeks.

She pushed a strand of her soft hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against her skin. She looked around the room, noticing more students filing in.

Leaning back in her seat, her fingers lightly tapped the edge of the stool, a soft rhythm, until her eyes caught sight of someone sitting in the far corner.

The black-hooded figure. Her mind clicked instantly-Park Jimin. His side profile was all she could see, his hood pulled low, obscuring most of his face once again.

Her heart was quickened as Minji's words echoed in her mind: the rumors about him. But as she watched him quietly unpacking his art supplies, something didn't add up.

Could someone who looked so... lonely, so withdrawn, truly be capable of something so horrific? The rumor about him killing his mother seemed almost absurd now.

A wave of sympathy washed over her. He sat far from everyone else, isolated, and Mae couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be so alone, surrounded by accusations.

Her gaze lingered on him, searching for signs of the monster people claimed he was. Just then, as if sensing her stare, he turned his head, locking eyes with her.

Mae's heart jolted, her stomach sinking. His face, now fully visible, was a stark contrast to the rumors.

His skin was pale, almost translucent, unblemished and smooth, highlighting the delicate structure of his high cheekbones and sharp jawline.

His eyes-dark, bottomless pools of void-stared back at her with an intensity that froze her in place.

There was something disturbingly calm about them, as if they hid an endless abyss, emotionless and cold.

His lips, naturally plump with a faint red tint, contrasted with his lifeless expression, while his soft black hair curled slightly at the edges, resting against his forehead.

He didn't look like a killer. In fact, he looked almost too perfect-ethereal in a dangerous, unreachable way. And yet, those empty eyes sent a chill down her spine.

There was something about the way he gazed at her, as though he saw right through her, making her feel exposed, vulnerable. She tried to swallow, but her throat tightened, the weight of his stare pinning her down.

A group of students walked between them, breaking the eye contact, and Mae snapped out of her daze. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and Minji's warnings flooded back into her mind. Don't let his looks fool you, Mae. He's dangerous

Mae lowered her gaze, trying to shake off the strange mix of emotions that twisted inside her. She told herself not to be swayed by his appearance, to remember the rumors. Looks can be deceiving, she silently reminded herself.

When she dared to glance back at him, his attention had returned to his canvas, his hand moving steadily as he made smooth strokes with his brush.

The bell rang, signaling the start of class, but even as the lecture began, Mae found herself sneaking glances in his direction. He never looked back at her again, completely engrossed in whatever he was creating.

"Don't be stupid, Mae. Ignore him," she whispered under her breath, trying to shake off the unnerving feeling he'd left behind. She focused on her work, forcing her thoughts away from him, though one last glance slipped through her resolve.

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