Colors ♡ Kim Hongjoong

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 18

Date: November 24

"I was thinking that we should try to finish the project this weekend," Hongjoong said carefully as we worked together in literature class. The teacher was giving us some time to brainstorm some ideas for the paper.

I frowned, "That's going to be a lot of work."

"The sooner we're done, the sooner we don't have to worry about it," he shrugged. But I could tell there was another reason.

"Is it because of your show?"

He furrowed his brows, "No, not that. This week is just, um, important for my family so it would be nice to have one less thing to stress about."

"Oh, okay then," I relaxed in my seat. I had been waiting to scold him for focusing on his hobby rather than school...but I guess I was too presumptuous. "We can try to make that work. We just won't be able to meet here during the weekend."

"If you want, we can meet at my place," Hongjoong offered, "My parents won't mind. My friends come over all the time."

I bit my lip, unsure. Whenever Hongjoong was at my house, he was on my ground which was comforting. But if I went to his house...I wouldn't have escaped from my room. I brushed those thoughts away. We were going to get the project done and I was fine with being uncomfortable for a few hours. I had already spent the last few weeks in pain anyway.

"Sure," I answered simply.

After classes had finished, Hongjoong and I met in the library. There were several students occupying the tables and studying for upcoming tests, so we found a quiet spot in a corner. We both sat on the floor, surrounded by bookshelves. We shared some notes we had taken in class and from separate research. Once we organized what we already had, we divided up tasks and got to work.

It was silent for a while, just the sound of page turning and pen scratching. Nearly an hour later, I set my notebook down and stretched. A yawn escaped my lips and I felt my eyes become watery. I was missing nap time. Slowly, I rested my head back on the bookshelf behind me and closed my eyes.

We would probably stay for a few more hours. I had already told my mom that I would be late for dinner. I was going to be so busy this weekend. I just hoped that my parents hadn't planned anything for my birthday because...I was going to be at Hongjoong's house working on this stupid assignment.

"Tired?" Hongjoong's soft tone made me crack an eye open. For a moment, I had forgotten he was there.

I shifted against the bookshelf, "A little."

"Take a break and rest your eyes," he suggested, "I can handle this on my own for a bit."

"No, I'm fine," I sat up straighter. I was not about to look weak in front of him. I picked up my pen and resumed writing again. I could feel Hongjoong's gaze on me but I didn't dare meet it. After a few seconds, I heard a quiet chuckle. I snuck a glance to find him smiling to himself, buried in a book.

Determined, I worked for another hour until this time, Hongjoong stood to stretch his legs. I peered up and echoed his words from earlier, "Tired?"

He grinned, silently laughing to himself.

"Take a break and stretch your legs," my voice was sweet and mocking, "I can handle this on my own for a bit."

Hongjoong bit the inside of his cheek, and returned to his seat. He ran a hand through his hair and mumbled something to himself. He was amused.

"Careful, you sound like you're trying to flirt," he glanced over at a table of other students, "And they might take it that way."

My cheeks flushed and I knit my brows, "You're crazy, and so are they."

We were on hour three of working together and I could feel my legs cramping and spasming from sitting for so long. It was driving me crazy. But what was driving me even more crazy was watching Hongjoong repeatedly erase entire paragraphs. That was getting us nowhere.

Finally, after the tenth time of watching him do it, I exhaled sharply, "Would you just stop? Keep them and then during the second draft get rid of them if you hate them that much."

Hongjoong paused, staring at his eraser debris on the floor, "It's fine, they just aren't adding anything to our paper anyway."

"You don't even know what you're erasing," I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Just keep all of it. Some of it has to be useful and even if it's not, it doesn't hurt to sugarcoat it."

Scratching his head, he gave in, "Fine, I guess you aren't wrong. I'm just not used to co-writing papers..."

I raised a brow, "Are you super conscious of what I'll think?"

"Maybe," he gave me a sheepish look, "It's your grade too after all."

So all of the erased paragraphs were because he was just trying to write the best paper he could. He was taking my grade into consideration too. I was...touched.

"Well they're fine," I waved at his notebook, "If I really hate them, don't worry — I'll let you know."

At that, he chuckled, "Okay, got it."

A final hour passed and we packed up and parted ways. I was so tired and couldn't believe that I had forced myself to push through four hours of straight homework and studying. My head was beginning to hurt and my stomach grumbled. I was going to go home and inhale leftovers and then collapse into my bed.

I made it inside to find Wooyoung lying on his stomach with a controller in hand. Yeosang lounged on the couch, reading up on some science homework. My mom sat in the chair and worked on a knitting project, so dad must have already gone to sleep. I kicked my shoes off and entered the living room.

"I'm home," I announced weakly. My mom quietly greeted me.

"How'd it go?" Wooyoung didn't look away from the game. Yeosang, glanced up from his text book, sitting up a little.

I puffed out a sigh, "He kept erasing entire paragraphs. And then... Well, he's just annoying."

"Who?" My mom gave me a confused expression.

"She was working on homework with Hongjoong," Yeosang stated.

She lit up, "Oh, he's such a hardworker! I'm glad you both got to work together."

pressing my lips firmly together, I made my way into the kitchen and grabbed food before doing exactly what I had envisioned earlier. When I collapsed, I was out like a light. Skipping nap time really had its consequences.