They're Made of Glass | SEVENTEEN

06 | fight for me

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There was only cold water left by the time I got back to the dorms. But despite the freezing water and the fact that my clothes fell off the hook in the showers and got soaked, I was still smiling like a crazy person as I skipped down the deserted halls humming that song Jisoo sang in my dripping clothes.

I soon realized that the halls weren't actually deserted. A student popped his head out from the laundry room and hollered at me to "shut my damn yapper already". A female student's voice then shouted out from the right corridor at the both of us to keep quiet so she could study. My happy mood turned slightly sour as I scowled at the both of them, but stopped humming nonetheless. The students here were crazy around exams. They did anything and everything if it bumped them up a few places in the rankings. Around finals, earning the first ranking would most likely result in a fight to the death.

"May the odds be ever in your favor." I muttered as I rounded the corner to get to the student store.

As I turned the corner, a familiar head of annoyingly perfect brown hair came into view. Hansol was sitting by himself at a table. There were no books, study packets, practice tests, or anything. He was just sitting there staring intently into his hand. As I stepped closer, a sparkle caught my eye. It was my necklace.

Hansol looked up, noticed my presence, and quickly pocketed the necklace. "I didn't realize it was raining outside." He said. Whether that was supposed to come out snarky or not, I didn't know. But either way, I was not amused.

"Haha very funny." I deadpanned as I brushed past him. His eyes followed me as I punched a few numbers into the vending machine. A few seconds later, I got my food. My stomach growled in approval as I made the ramen. It was pretty easy and all, but then came time to open the jar of kimchi. Some student brought back a ginormous jar after break and with my soggy clothes and butter fingers, I couldn't quite get a good grip on the lid. There was a snort of laughter soon later from my spectator: Mr. Chwe Hansol.

"Need some help?" He asked, rising from his seat. I grit my teeth as I used the edge of my shirt to try and open it. But with it being wet and all, it only made it more slippery.

"I got-"

Hansol threw his sweatshirt over my face to cut off whatever protest I had left. Then, with the most annoying pop, the lid came off.

"You're dripping everywhere. Put that on." He said, motioning to the sweatshirt. I opened my mouth to protest again, but the fabric was just too warm and too soft. I'm a sucker for fluffy sweatshirts, okay?

Closing my mouth, I wriggled my head through the opening and stuck both arms through the proper holes. Hansol shook his head as I reached to pull the hood off. He tucked all strands of my hair into the hood and then pulled on the strings, tightening everything while making me look ridiculous in the process. And with that my happy mood was gone.

"Thank you." I said, scooping out a generous portion of kimchi and putting it in a small bowl. Hansol nodded and without asking, took my ramen and kimchi over to where he was sitting. I glared at his retreating figure.

"Wanna sit with me for a while?" Oh really? I didn't know I had a choice. Hansol gave a small smile. "Your noodles are getting swollen."

With a defeated sigh, I trudged over to him and plopped down in the chair across from him. Hansol grinned gleefully as I let out another sigh.