•How long till you start falling apart?•
Min Sehyuk, a new transfer student from the U.S. joins Hanhwa university and entangles himself with the resident bully after defending a student. He becomes the new target, taking each punch with a smile, ask...
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"Alright, settle down." A deep, throaty voice speaks as calculated steps enter the hall, the man's combat boots thudding against the tiled floor, books slapping on the large wooden table sitting in front of the smartboard.
Min Sehyuk groggily peers through his thick lashes, observing the male between the spaces of his blond strands that fall over his eyes. He straightens up, adjusting his yellow hoodie two sizes bigger than his body proportions, fingers rubbing his almond-shaped, hazel eyes to get rid of his drowsy state. He pulls at the turtleneck under his hoodie, scratching his collarbones, milky skin turning a shade of red where his nails scrape.
"Ms. Im Yura will be absent for the whole semester as she'll be taking a leave to perform Lumbar Spinal Fusion surgery which would take about three to six months to recover from." The tall man informs in a monotone, gesturing towards himself with tattooed fingers. "I'm Park Dae Ho, the substitute professor for your art course for the time being."
Min Sehyuk squints, a brow shooting up in assessment. The new art instructor looks nothing like one would expect him to be, all pastel and artsy. Instead, he's wearing a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his arm covered in black ink and the first three buttons undone. The shirt fits him perfectly, hugging his body at all the right angles, tucked into the waistband of his grey-black checkered jeans. Lastly, chunky chain bracelets are locked around his wrist, matching the metal rings on his fingers. He is handsome with sharp features, exuding an intimidating ambiance. He would be more fitting as a sports instructor than someone teaching art.
"Any questions?" The substitute professor asks, his eyes roaming around the art room. The space is smaller than the main lecture halls, albeit able to fit about thirty people. Wooden easels are placed at the back with rows of cabinets holding art supplies and a few large tables for students to work on.
"How old are you?"
"Can we not do anything today?"
"Are you single?"
Similar sorts of queries echo throughout the room, Sehyuk shaking his head at the boldness of university students. They aren't reprimanded like it is done in school, both the professors and students being mature enough to be responsible for their words and actions. Freedom of speech is something everyone gets a kick out of, along with bunking classes without any explanation.
"I'm thirty-four and my relationship status shouldn't matter to any of you. And even if I'm single, my standards are higher than you lot," the raven-haired man rolls his eyes in offense. "As for my ability to teach this course to you all, something that should be your real concern, I'm well qualified. I have been doing art for years now."
Sehyuk chuckles lightly, two fingers coming up to his M-shaped lips, giving his smile a fuller, more youthful appearance. He's sure his art classes wouldn't be boring.
It's been a month since Min Sehyuk joined Hanhwa university, following a mundane lifestyle every day. His family is well-off, with both parents working in high positions in multinational companies. Although he's lived in the U.S. since he turned a teen, the boy's parents sent him away to South Korea to pursue his studies so he could have a quieter life after an incident that forced him to coop himself in his room for a whole year.
