Tuesday morning came with a dull gray sky that matched Minho's mood perfectly.
He stood outside one of the campus stationery shops, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, trying to look casual despite the anxiety crawling under his skin.
He had texted Haeun about twenty minutes ago: Meet me at the stationery shop near the culinary building. 10 AM. Don't be late, hoobae.
Now he was waiting, and waiting gave him too much time to think.
About yesterday.
About how close he had come to kissing Park Haeun in that hallway.
About how Dasom had to physically drag him away because he had lost all sense of self-control.
Ah, Seo Minho, you are crazy.
What was he thinking? Getting involved with someone like her? Someone who had nothing to do with his world of corporate warfare and chaebol politics? Someone his father would destroy without a second thought if he found out?
