JIMIN
I wake up, and swoon from last night. Sunlight beams through the slits of the window, the warm autumn air filling me with ease. To my side, my laptop screen is black and still open to face me. Butterflies flutter around my stomach.
How long was he playing for? Did I fall asleep while he was in the middle of a song? Even while that is embarrassing, I can't help the feeling that takes over; the giddiness that he watched me as I slept. I would never have imagined I would sleep in front of my professor before. People here seem afraid of him. Based on what I've witnessed, I've seen the truth. Underneath his cold exterior, he's caring. So deeply gentle and unexpectedly patient. I have yet to see him show that side with anyone else.
I reach for my phone on the desk and notice a new message from "Yoonji". I blush so hard my cheeks ache. Quickly, I open up the text.
YOONJI: Charge your phone before leaving. Goodnight.
It's short, but fills me with adoration nonetheless. I close out the text and start my day with a spring in my step. Today I bundle up in layers of hoodies and sweaters. With September coming to an end, it makes no exception for the warmer temperatures. And soon enough, I have to permanently hold my hands in my pockets when I enter the university campus.
I expect to find Hoseok studying at the library, but it's just a couple of stray students along with myself. I can't blame them, it's too early and too cold to be anywhere but underneath warm sheets. Still, if I want to see Professor Min, I have to sacrifice my time.
Heading inside, I walk upstairs, choosing a table in the corner and propping my bag in the chair beside me before digging out my notebook and pen, soaking in the peace and quiet and trying to enjoy these moments that will eventually be lost when spring comes again.
My vision is taken over as I imagine Professor Min in the warmer months, him with the flowers and playing guitar in a grassy field as I listen for hours. The sound of his guitar fills my memory, the soft sound that encapsules his heart, his soul; something he shared with me. And then my pen starts to draw what I see.
I've never called myself a professional artist, I'm far from it, but I follow my instincts, remembering and recalling every detail of his face. His long hair. His soft jawline. His intense eyes. Everything that is him, everything that I see, is drawn in my notebook.
I'm not sure how much time passes, but when I come up for air, his eyes stare back at me. They're not the most proportioned, but they capture the darkness in which I recreated from memory. In black and white, he looks both sad and peaceful.
It's a feeling I've associated with him. A mixture of being at peace with himself, yet carrying a melancholic weight with him. It's something beautiful. Bittersweet.
And I want to hold him.
"Lovely drawing," a voice says behind me. I jump in my seat and swipe the notebook to my chest.
Standing behind me is Mrs. Sumin. "I was wondering when you were going to show up. You take longer than kimchi." She smirks and adjusts her round glasses. "So, does the afternoon work best for you, or would it be easier in the mornings?"
I have no idea what she's asking and I have no idea if she saw who I was drawing. Sliding the notebook under the desk while maintaining eye contact, I ask, "What do you mean?"
"Aish," she huffs. "I'm talking about your working schedule. Did you want to work in the morning or the afternoon?"
"Wait, I got the job?" I look at her, trying to gauge whether her sarcasm is a normal thing or if it's something I should be worried about, but her face is a shield, not bearing a single emotion but slight annoyance when I don't get to her level fast enough.
"Jinja. You were accepted. Now, before I wither right here into ashes, when do you want to come in and work? I'll work with your schedule so long as you give me an answer within this year."
I spring up from my seat and bow. "Thank you, Mrs. Sumin! I look forward to working with you." I inhale, suddenly understanding that having a job means losing time with Professor Min. On the other hand, it means money to save up for future gifts. I glance up at the clock on the wall. My time is already running out as it is, and I don't want to waste another second.
"If it isn't too much trouble," I say, "could I start in the mornings?"
She nods. "That will be fine. Would you like a tour around while you're here? I find it helps if you know where things are." She says it like it's a bad taste in her mouth and it leaves me wondering who else has helped this woman.
Mrs. Sumin leads me down aisles of books, all stacked and straightened, but she warned me not to get my hopes up on having them like that all the time. She shows me the small meeting room connected to the side, with computers on one end and two tables placed in the center. In the back there's a small selection of fiction books, mostly hidden with textbooks the size of my head.
Behind the desk is where she shows me how to check in and out books. It's quite simple and in two tries, I've already got the scanning part down. Mrs. Sumin explains that being a librarian does not mean sitting down and reading everyday (though some slow days are like that), it's about helping patrons and students first. We are expected to be friendly and assist as much as we can.
"You can sit here, Jimin. Next to me, so I can get to know you." She points to a chair on the opposite side of the desk.
I sit down and fold my hands. "Well, um, I'm a freshman and I'm trying to major in general business. I don't really know what I want to do with my life, so I thought doing something like that would be a starting point that I could branch out from."
Before I can continue, she stops me with a raised hand. Her eyes are locked onto mine, and I become nervous. This feels like I'm being studied, but I'm more nervous that she doesn't like what she sees, like I'm not meeting her expectations. "I didn't ask about your education, I asked about you. Tell me about yourself."
I stare at her with wide eyes, extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed, but also a little pain. Off the top of my head, there's nothing that comes to mind without bringing older memories of me and Taehyung. It shouldn't affect me as it does now, springing an ache in my chest, but it does as if it happened yesterday. It's hard to admit to myself that he's not with me as he was before.
"Do you have hobbies?" she asks, turning to the desk when a patron comes up and waits for their book.
"I like to dance. Singing is fun, too. I used to ride my bike back in my hometown," I reply as she works.
"Where is that?" she asks. "Your hometown."
"Busan."
Her face lifts slightly at that. "I'm from Busan too. Wah, small world we live in, isn't it?" She hands the patron their receipt and spins back to me in the chair. "You seem like a decent artist. Have you ever thought about taking up graphic design?"
My stomach is tangled in knots as I smile tightly. "It's not anything special. That was just a sketch."
I sit ramrod straight, not daring to breathe hard. She nods and switches the subject.
"The mornings, yes? You'll be expected to arrive at 8:30 and get to work as soon as you walk through those doors. Since you have the strength, you will be doing the heavy lifting of unboxing the deliveries that come once a week. Don't worry, it's just books, mostly."
As she talks, I nod along, not wanting to miss a single step or tip she offers. Honestly, I'm happy to have a job now, but I can't get my thoughts away from Professor Min. If we half the time we already spend together, it will mean less time to be with one another in the same room. But maybe that's a good thing.
I have to remind myself that we can't be seen in public. Not unless we want to come out with our relationship, and to be perfectly blunt, I don't know if you can call this a relationship. It's too secretive to call it that, but it's too deep to call it a hook-up.
And that's why me working is a good idea. I won't have time to think about him while I'm lost in piles of books. The quiet atmosphere will calm my thoughts, and maybe it will help me with my actual studies that I've been neglecting ever since learning that Professor Min likes me back. Hopefully another study session with Hoseok can help.
Funny how such a simple concept of love can make time feel like it's getting away from you.
"Okay. I'll let you go for today. Make sure to be on time tomorrow," Mrs. Sumin says as I leave behind the desk, grabbing my backpack and stuffing my notebook back inside, so relieved to be free from the tension on my shoulders.
Before I can bolt out the doors, I hear her voice over my shoulder. "You should show Professor Min that. I think he'd appreciate it."
I snap my head back to her, but she's already focusing on another task at the desk. It's only a few seconds, and then it's over like it never happened. It's probably supposed to be a joke, or maybe a compliment to me, but I don't stick around to find out. As soon as my feet find their default walking rhythm, I sprint outside and— to contradict myself— to the humanities building.