The first few weeks of the semester drag on in a blur of lab assignments and awkward interactions. Min has learned to anticipate Chung's boisterous presence in their chemistry class—his laugh, the way he effortlessly becomes the center of attention, and his casual, teasing remarks that are impossible to avoid. At first, Min had thought he could just ignore Chung, bury himself in his work, and survive the semester.
But it’s not that simple.
One afternoon, after yet another round of chemistry equations, Min glances up and catches Chung’s gaze across the lab table. For a brief moment, their eyes lock, and Min feels something shift inside him—a subtle, inexplicable tug. He quickly looks away, focusing on the experiment in front of him. Was he imagining things? His heart beats a little faster, and he clenches his jaw, annoyed at himself.
But Chung doesn’t seem to notice. He’s talking to another classmate, making a joke, causing everyone around him to laugh. Min doesn’t get it. How does he do that? How does he draw people in without even trying?
Min’s irritation builds again. He hated that about Chung—his ease, his charm. It was like he didn’t have to try at all. It was so different from Min’s quiet, controlled nature. He was the kind of person who sat at the back of the room, who avoided drawing attention. Why couldn’t they just stay in their separate worlds?
After class, Min gathers his things quickly, trying to make a quick exit, but as usual, Chung catches up to him.
“Hey, wait up!” Chung’s voice is as cheerful as ever. Min doesn’t turn around, knowing he’s about to hear one of those over-the-top greetings again.
But this time, when Min does glance over his shoulder, he finds that Chung’s smile isn’t as exaggerated as it usually is. It’s softer, more genuine, almost like he’s not just trying to fill the silence.
“You’re in a rush, huh?” Chung says casually, falling into step beside him.
“Yeah,” Min replies, his voice short. He doesn’t want to talk. Not now. Not with Chung. “Got stuff to do.”
“Gotcha,” Chung says, nodding as though he understands. Then, with a teasing grin, he adds, “You know, you’re always in a rush. I’m starting to think you’re allergic to fun.”
Min opens his mouth to snap something back, but for once, he stops. He looks at Chung—a bit more than just the loud, obnoxious guy in his chemistry class—and something inside him shifts again. There’s something different about Chung today.
“Maybe you’re right,” Min admits, surprising himself. “Maybe I take things too seriously.”
Chung pauses, studying him with raised eyebrows. “Wait—did you just say something... kind of deep?”
Min feels his face heat up, and he quickly looks away. “Shut up. I didn’t say anything deep.”
But Chung is still watching him, his expression softening just a little. “No, I think you did. I mean, you’re not just some quiet guy who sits in the corner and does his thing. You’ve got... layers. I’ve seen it.”
Min freezes. “What?”
Chung shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. “You’re not all surface. I can tell.”
Min doesn’t know what to say to that. His mind is spinning—he’s never really thought of himself like that. He’s always tried to keep to himself, to remain unnoticed. But the fact that Chung, of all people, sees him differently makes something stir in him.
“Thanks,” Min mutters after a long silence, unsure of how to process what just happened.
“No problem,” Chung responds, his tone light again, but with an underlying sincerity. “Anyway, if you’re ever in the mood for something that’s not ‘serious,’ let me know. I could use a change of pace. Maybe we could hang out or something.”
Min’s stomach flips at the suggestion, and for a moment, he can’t tell if he’s angry or... something else. “I don’t know about hanging out,” he says, his voice quieter than usual. “But maybe... maybe we could work on the next project together. I don’t mind doing the work if you don’t mind, well
