austenland | junhao

一

had minghao known his monday would surprise him like this, he would have unhesitatingly chosen to stay indoors and call in with a bad case of flu. because now, his favorite white shirt bears a big fat ugly unrecoverable mustard stain, his flawed ankle in overwhelming agony due to a sprain he had earlier and as a delicious, fabulous icing, he has also lost his starbucks member card—all thanks to his inferior sense of human response, or what is also commonly called natural reflexes.

after throwing on a cringey convenience store bought t-shirt that says 'I LOVE KOREA' and a big ass flag smackdab in the middle of everything, minghao returns to the teacher's lounge with his head held up high, hiding the shame with uv sunglasses as he fixes himself a vanilla latte in painful silence.

he really hates mondays.

"so, 'I LOVE KOREA', huh?"

oh god, not him, minghao thinks.

"junhui, shut up before i fucking punch you in the gut." minghao barely bats an eye at his uninvited company, but anyone in the room can hear the venom in his words. it is honestly already enough of a humiliation that he walks with a bandage covered limp that minghao is absolutely certain he doesn't need a second hand embarrassment, especially from wen junhui.

"goodness minghao, this is the teacher's lounge. use words of sophistication, will you?" a professor sitting comfortably with a burrito and hot tea in his hands unexpectedly responds from a far corner. junhui snorts at this.

"oh dear, let me rephrase," minghao holds a hand to his chest and clears his throat in undoubtable sarcasm, as the other aims the newly made coffee cup at junhui before taking a sip, "whereof one shall not speak, thereof one must be silent."

"incorrect!" junhui instinctively and mockingly brings his index finger up at minghao. "whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent. ludwig wittgenstein, tractatus 7."

minghao displays a look of resentment—his eye twitches and his tongue rolls to the sides of his cavern. he promises himself to stick a broom up junhui's ass the next time he frolics around campus being an irrelevant smartass again.

"keep yapping. i better get to class because unlike a certain someone, my pupils are here to learn something and not to flirt with your pathetic ass."

"MY WHAT? PRETTY ASS?"

minghao destroys his cup.

"i swear to god you better scram, wen junhui."