My Light, My Jimin

Chapter 18: Closed Doors

JIMIN

The weekend ends as soon as it started and I'm back at the campus hiding out in the library, too early for the average student.  It doesn't bother me; to everyone else, I look like the world's most ambitious student.  Which I am, but for different reasons.

As soon as my conversation with Professor Min ended, I saved his contact to my phone and created his profile under the name "Yoonji" in case Eomma ever managed to sneak a peek at my phone.  Besides, seeing his name pop up as a girl brings me delight.

When I feel certain that I've acted the part of studying intensely enough not to cause suspicion, I exit the library and head straight to the humanities building.  The hallway outside his classroom is empty.  No witnesses.

I tap on the door twice and within three seconds it opens.  He stands on the other side and my stomach tenses with a delicious sensation.

"You're here early," he says.

I smile brightly, tugging at my backpack straps.  There's still a chance of faculty spotting us, and if I want to enter, I have to act innocent.  "I still have the duty of changing dates, remember?"

"Right," he nods, like he forgot.  He allows me to walk past him and shuts the door behind me.  The blinds are shut, leaving only the harsh fluorescent lights.  His voice is soft when he says, "You look lovely."

I can't stop the grin that takes over my face.  I knew he'd like it.  Black and white fuzzy sweater, my best pair of black skinny jeans, my hair messy and naturally curling at the ends.  That was on purpose.

I choose to reach up to the board and erase Friday's date.  As I do, the edge of my sweater slips up and the cold reaches my skin.  It's only a little sliver that feels the exposure, so I don't bother lowering my arm.  I write the date quickly and place the chalk back on the rack.

As I spin on my heels back to face Professor Min, I see him already staring at me.

His gaze locks on mine and widens, his cheeks flushing, mouth parted just the slightest in awe.

I watch him wrestle with his feelings in front of me.  He tries to look away, but realizes I've already caught him.  The tips of his ears turn red, like he's embarrassed.  The sudden realization that I have the power to embarrass him hits me fast.  Seeing him vulnerable because of me sends a flare of confidence in my chest.

Then he says, "You are quite talented at this."

A blush finds my cheeks.  I shake my head.  "It's just numbers."

"No.  I meant how you can look so charming without trying."

My breathing halts for a second, delight at his compliment filling my body and sending warmth through me.  Slowly, he steps forward and hesitantly reaches out his hand, but stops before he can touch me.

I wait for him.  It looks like he's stuck, frozen in time.  He's unsure and his dark eyes are on me, reading me and my thoughts.  Despite my heart wanting to break free of my chest, I take a step forward and meet him in the middle.  His hand ends up on my arm and before I can do anything, it slides down to my waist.

His palm covers my tiny frame easily as he hooks his fingers and presses me into him, muttering something in Korean under his breath and then smoothing across my sweater and slipping off my backpack.

I gasp, letting out a small squeal as he maneuvers me exactly like I want.  We fall into a swaying rhythm like we're in a slow dance, but instead of music our breaths fill the empty space.  I lift my head up and am about to look him in the eye, but his palm snakes up around the back of my neck and I instinctively roll my eyes back.