There is mentions of previous trauma and mental health topics within this chapter. Please be advised and do not read any further if these topics are sensitive to you.

✧━━ .·:*¨¨* 𓆩♡𓆪 *¨¨*:·. ━━ ✧

❥ 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 •°. *࿐

"Jisung–" Felix beams. "This is Wooyoung, San and Jeongin."

Jisung's eyes trail across each person sitting at the table, scanning their features carefully. Having been one of the first instances that he willingly chose to eat lunch with anyone other than himself and the librarian, he wanted to absorb as much as he could. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be doing this again, but the warm smiles that came from each of Felix's friends made him rather comfortable.

Wooyoung, from what Jisung could perceive, seemed like a beacon of light. His short black hair complimented his sharp features, and Jisung couldn't lie and say that the male wasn't attractive. He wore darker clothing, fit with a few accessories and an endearing smile. Jisung also took notice of how close Wooyoung had sat next to San, leaving nearly no space between them.

San also had shorter, black hair, but it was slightly longer than Wooyoung's. He was wearing a hoodie and slightly ripped jeans, and Jisung can't help but picture him as anything other than cat-like. His features were sharp, nearly intimidating from a distance, but now that he could feel the warmth emanating from him, his entire bruting facade melted away easily.

Jeongin, also very warming in nature, had darker hair, one that hung between the balance of a deep brown or near-black. His eyes were dark in hue, yet incredibly fond, his smile wide and genuine. Jisung, even only having met a few friends of Felix's a moment ago, couldn't help but feel as if he was safe here.

"Sorry–" Jisung manages to blabber out. "I don't really do this sort of thing with others. If I'm a bit quiet, that's why."

"Don't worry about it." San assures softly, eyes blinking away to glance at his food. "Also–"

Jisung settles down into his seat next to Felix, looking at San as he points to Wooyoung. "Ignore how loud he is. He can be really obnoxious at times."

"I am not loud–" Wooyoung pouts, but San turns to look at him, smiling incredibly warmly. Jisung watches their interaction with interest, raising a brow, feeling as if he'd been intruding on some sort of private moment. Felix nudges him with his elbow gently, whispering to him.

"They're dating." Felix says with an audible smile. "They're kinda grossly in love, so just ignore the both of them."

Jisung half-smiles, nodding. Part of him wonders what it must've been like to be so infatuated with someone else, being able to trust someone with the vulnerable parts of yourself. The idea of giving his heart to someone made his skin crawl, but not with disgust, rather with fear. He knew he was strong-willed at times, maybe a little resilient, but he knew that he'd simply crack into pieces if anyone had handled his heart the wrong way.

"By the way," Jeongin says, sitting across from Jisung. "I think we share a class."

"Oh?" Jisung blinks twice, waiting for the male to continue as he watches him ponder.

"History," Jeongin muses. "You sit in the front."

"I do," Jisung smiles, looking away as if he'd been embarrassed. "I like being able to hear the teacher properly."

"You're quite smart, from what I hear." Jeongin smiles. "We should study sometime. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two."

"Yeah," Jisung nods, trying to reassure not only Jeongin's idea, but himself. "We should, sometime."

"Mm," Wooyoung hums. "I also heard that you're tutoring someone, yeah?"

"Yeah," Jisung sighs, looking down at his packed lunch. "His name is Minho. Do any of you know him?"

"Know him?" San scoffs. "Barely. Know of him, more like."

"He seems. . . different." Jisung contemplates openly. "There's more to him."

"He's just some asshole that runs with Mingi and Hyunjin," Wooyoung shrugs. "I only know that he tries to bite anyone's head off if they get in his way or bother him. He's changed this last year, or so I've heard."

"He wasn't mean to me–" Jisung's brows pinch. "Well, not after I put him in his place."

"You did what?" Felix asks, turning to glance at Jisung incredulously.

"I. . . told him off." Jisung shrugs. "What's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing is wrong with that," San assures. "Just wondering how you're still alive after that."

"It's not that serious," Jisung tries to defend. "He didn't want to be tutored and didn't want to listen, so I told him that if he wanted to graduate, then he should continue to meet with me and stop smoking until he has no brain cells left."

"Jesus Christ–" Jeongin muffles behind his palm.

"Mingi is gonna kill you for that." Wooyoung eyes Jisung worriedly. Jisung shrugs again, simply unbothered. He wasn't going to mention how Mingi and his friends had already made his life a living hell some days, as it wasn't the place to be so vulnerable with people he had just met, but knowing that Wooyoung had felt some sort of concern from him was comforting.

"I'm not scared of anyone." Jisung affirms, opening his lunch satchel. "Minho needed to pull his head out of his ass and see me as his tutor, not some random person he can demean."

"You tell him," Wooyoung says proudly. "We've got your back anyways."

"That's–" Jisung smiles, glancing at Wooyoung, then to San and Jeongin. "That's very sweet of you guys."

"You can sit with us again if you want to," Felix hums. "I'd rather like it if you chose to."

"I'll think about it," Jisung says with a faint smile. "It's an adjustment, y'know? You guys are really nice, it's just something I'm not used to."

"We get it." San reassures, nudging Wooyoung with his elbow. "Plus, if you ran away because of his loud ass, I wouldn't blame you."

"Sannie–" Wooyoung pouts, his fake-sadness pulling San's attention back towards him. Wooyoung smiles when their eyes meet, his adoration for the male evident. "You love me, though."

"I'd kiss you if we weren't in school," San murmurs, causing Felix and Jeongin to both recoil in disgust.

"Go make out in the bathrooms," Jeongin groans, earning quiet laughter from Wooyoung.

"You two are seriously cute together, but quit being so disgustingly in love." Felix says, a faint trace of hidden affection stowed away within his tone.

"Can't help it." Wooyoung muses.

"Anyway–" Felix rotates his glance back towards Jisung, raising a brow. "Minho, yeah? What d'you think of him?"

"Does it matter what I think? I'm just tutoring him."

"It matters because he acts differently towards you. . . for some reason." Felix smiles deviously, and Jisung groans.

"Please don't insinuate whatever you've got cruising around in your imagination. It's not going to happen." Jisung looks down at his food, fingers toying with the sandwich in front of him.

"I didn't say that," Felix defends. "You said it before me, technically."

"But I also didn't say it." Jisung pouts.

"But you hinted towards it!" Felix smiles. "Therefore, you must've been thinking about it."

"He's just, I don't know–" Jisung leans back into his seat, eyes looking at the ceiling momentarily before swinging his attention back to Felix. "He's alluring. I can tell that he's hiding a lot of pain. Haven't you seen his scars?"

"We all have." San mentions lightly after he finishes chewing. "No one knows where it's all from."

"He just seems like he wants to talk about it." Jisung says softly, voice a near-murmur. "I want to help him."

"You can't." Wooyoung says adamantly.

"Yeah, no way." Jeongin shakes his head. "I don't even think Mingi knows what happened, and they're best friends."

"Maybe they aren't that close," Jisung suggests, but no one seems convinced. "Seriously? None of you are curious as to why he's so different from when he first transferred over? He used to be lively, and then. . . he just wasn't."

"It's not that–" Jeongin waves his hand. "He's impossible to reach. He has more walls built up than a prison. He's guarded and he's cold, and the only people he actively hangs out with are Hyunjin and Mingi. Jongho, sometimes too."

"But why?" Jisung pries further. "He wasn't an asshole a year ago!"

"We don't know." Felix shrugs, looking at his food. "If you intend to find out, good luck. He's near-impossible, Jisung. People have tried."

"By people, who do you mean?" Jisung eyes the group warily, suddenly finding the four other males settle into silence. "What? Did he used to date one of you or something?"

"He used to sit right where you're sitting." Felix says softly. "He was Wooyoung's best friend."

Jisung eyes Wooyoung worriedly, but all the male does is stare at his food. "Wooyoung, I didn't mean to bring anything to resurface–"

"It's fine. You didn't know. Not a lot of people know, really. I try to keep it quiet." Wooyoung leans into San, seeking his boyfriend's comfort amidst a painful memory. "He stopped talking to me after something happened to him, but that was before he transferred here."

"So you knew him before he started here a year ago?" Jisung inquires, trying to be gentle, afraid to step over boundaries.

"We grew up together. His family was rich, so he was privately taught for a while before being sent off to some expensive ass school, but now that he's here–" Wooyoung's brows pinch, and Jisung can see San's gaze focused on him, expression soft, yet worried. "I don't know what happened. He refuses to talk to me."

"I'm sorry." Jisung says softly, watching as San holds Wooyoung close to him, pressing delicate kisses against his temple. "Really, I didn't mean to bring it up."

"You didn't know." Jeongin assures. "We all struggled to get close to him even when he sat there. Wooyoung was the only person he trusted. We all try to leave it buried in the past because clearly there's no changing him, hence why we didn't bother mentioning that we really knew him."

"So you meant what you said then?" Jisung turns to look at Felix. "About him acting differently to me?"

"I meant it. But be careful, Jisung." Felix shakes his head, taking another bite of his food. "He's not nice. I don't want him hurting you."

Jisung turns to look at his own food again, contemplating words caught on his tongue. He wanted to help Minho in any way he could, feeling the pain radiate off of him in ways that he found hard to verbalize. He didn't want the male to struggle alone, and if he could provide at least a little bit of comfort, he would do it without hesitating.

But these warnings, these internal wounds bleeding from the group he had just planted himself into, fed into a hesitance that began to grow. They had dealt with Minho's icy exterior first hand, watching as the male grew distant without a single care in the world, disappearing from a long-term friendship he had once had without blinking. Jisung knew that he could be hurt in the process of planting himself into Minho's life, but even if that reluctance had been momentarily steering him away, he refused to let it get in the way of reaching out.

Several days pass. The week had run through with ease, landing at the start of the following week, overcasted with the drought of rain as clouds haze overhead. Jisung is sitting in the library, watching as Minho continues to write his paper, a book open in his hands as he drifts his attention from reading to focusing on the other male.

Minho had been determined as of late to write his paper, but Jisung wasn't sure as to why. Seeing Minho become so motivated recently was a breath of fresh air, but this was only their fourth tutoring session. He wasn't sure if this brazen interest to pass his classes came from some sort of self-inflicted urge to prove something to himself or to someone else, but it made Jisung curious nonetheless.

They had been here for a long forty minutes, nearing the end of their session rapidly. Minho had already done his homework for his other courses, leaving extra time to focus on his paper, the one that would make or break his grade in their literature class. Jisung was careful about the subject of Minho's paper, considering the male had changed it once already, trying to be understanding of his choice of topic regardless of his own subtle curiosity.

Minho's scars had awoken a near trance-like state out of Jisung, wondering if the male's urge to write about distracted driving had anything to do with his physical trauma. But, he wouldn't pry. It wasn't his place, and as his newly-declared friends had warned, Minho wouldn't open up as it was. Jisung couldn't help but feel the pull towards him, alluring like a magnet, unable to stay away even if this was just some stupid tutoring session. He wanted Minho to know that he'd always be there if he needed to talk or to vent, or if he just needed a friendly face to be around. He wanted to be a safe place for the boy, holding his arms open in wait for a much-needed hug, but he knew Minho would never succumb to that.

"How do I add an argumentative topic here?" Minho asks quietly, looking up from his notebook.

"Like an argument against your topic, or for it?"

"For it, I think. I don't know."

"Let me see what you have–" Jisung holds his hand open as Minho passes his notebook over. Surprisingly, Jisung notes that Minho's handwriting was decent. It wasn't the horrid lace of squiggles and lines he was used to seeing from other males in his school, and the sight of it brings a certain fondness to rise over his skin.

"Okay," Jisung says after a moment, scanning over Minho's words. "You can fit it in here."

Minho's brows raise, leaning over, looking at where Jisung had pointed on his paper.

"Dancing has evolved from a hobby into a sport loved by millions, and it deserves to be seen that way." Jisung reads, glancing at Minho. "From there, insert your argument as to why you think so. It'll fit in perfectly."

Minho half-smiles, nodding. "Okay. Thanks."

Jisung hands the notebook back over, eyes watching Minho curiously as he draws an arrow from that point of his paper to a separate section, beginning to write an argumentative statement.

Jisung would always appreciate how Minho focused, mainly because he seemed so in tune with his emotions and his approach, not to mention that his word choice wasn't incredibly bland either. He was more intelligent than he led on, failing classes for what seemed to be no reason as he wrote his paper with ease. Jisung feels a question lingering within him, but he can't bring himself to ask. He hesitates once more, watching as Minho writes, sending his trail of thoughts into a stupor, turning his gaze back towards his book.

He struggles to read the rest of his chapter before his timer goes off, signaling the end of their session. Minho closes his notebook with a satisfying sigh, shoving it into his bag without care.

"Thank you for helping me with that. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Same time, yeah?" Jisung smiles at him, watching as Minho nods, the faint of a smile barely present.

"Yeah, see you."

And with that, Minho leaves without another word. Jisung sits and stares at his back as he leaves, questioning where to go from here. Minho didn't need his help as he claimed to, and that only spurs Jisung into a further loophole of why.

The next day comes, and Jisung once more finds himself in the library. Felix had been texting him absently about random things, trying to forge a closer bond between the two of them, but Jisung couldn't focus. It was twenty minutes past their start time for their tutoring session, and Minho hadn't shown up. Jisung thought about texting him, but Minho also hadn't texted in return. If he was going to not show, he would've made it known to Jisung. He wasn't rude and the type to stand-up a session they both needed, or so Minho claims to need anyway. But even still, Jisung feels worry tugging at his heart.

To his surprise, Minho strides into the room, a look of exhaustion and stress covering his expression. He sits down, hair hanging over his eyes as he reaches into his messy bag, pulling free the same notebook he had been writing his paper in. Jisung struggles to remain quiet here, seeing the visible pain etched into the elder's gaze, wondering what he could do to soothe it.

"Hey," Jisung says quietly. Minho doesn't look at him. "Is everything okay? You're not usually late."

"I'm sorry, I know. I should've told you. It's fine." Minho's words are quick and concise, cut off and emotionally cold. His demeanor wasn't that far off from how Jisung had seen him previously, but his tone. . . that was different, which spurred Jisung's worry further.

"Minho." Jisung says adamantly, yet still trying to remain soft. "You can tell me."

"It's fine. It's not your problem." Minho opens his notebook, eyes scanning the page he opens to in avoidance.

"Minho–"

"Are we going to study? Or am I stuck in therapy?" Minho's eyes shoot upwards daringly, a glimpse of the so-called asshole demeanor shining back towards him.

Jisung raises a brow, leaning back into his chair, shrugging. "Nope. We can study. Go ahead, look over what you did last night and start writing again."

Minho watches Jisung, eye contact firm and steady, almost unwilling to concede their somewhat jarring standoff before Jisung looks away first, folding his arms against his chest.

A moment of silence passes, Jisung's eyes boring into the table, his mind sent for a whirlwind as numerous thoughts overtake him presently. He wanted to understand, he truly did. But if paying the price for being empathetic was this? Jisung wasn't sure if he wanted to proceed. Minho's anger was slightly intimidating, but he refused to bow down to his will. Jisung knew he needed to stand his ground with the male, somehow to prove that Minho's bullheadedness wouldn't get in the way of their sessions.

"I'm sorry." Minho murmurs softly, pulling Jisung away from his stupor of thoughts. Jisung's eyes turn, head following, glancing at the male. "It's nothing for you to worry about, truly."

"I don't believe you." Jisung's brows furrow. "You say that as if your eyes don't plead for peace. I can see that you're hiding something, Minho. I just don't know why you think you have to deal with it alone."

"Because." Minho raises a brow, tone softer. "It's never anyone else's burden except my own. I don't want to get into it, anyway. Can we please just write my paper?"

"We can. But I need you to realize that if you're struggling, then don't struggle alone."

"Why?" Minho watches Jisung's expression fall, turning away, stomach sinking into the pit of hell.

"Coming from someone who struggled alone a lto, I don't advise that you do it, too." Jisung warns gently, pulling his book from his unzipped bag. "Go on, then. Read your paper. Continue on and show me what you've done in twenty minutes."

Minho nods, remaining quiet, eyes glancing back down to focus on his work. Jisung takes a breath, swallowing whatever emotions had thought to present themselves within his moment of slight vulnerability. He wanted to reach out to Minho, extend the olive branch in any way he could, but Minho was far from accepting it. Jisung made it known that he'd be there for him, regardless of how close they were or where their situation landed them, and that's all Jisung could use to reassure himself.

Time passes. Most of it consists of Minho showing Jisung his work and struggling with how to continue, which results in Jisung making pointers and fixing his mistakes, properly helping Minho finish the first full page of his paper with ease. Jisung continues to watch him despite the fact that he was holding a book open in front of himself, eyes somehow boring into Minho's hands and his notebook.

Minho was incredibly attractive, that wasn't a fact he was willing to ignore. The way his bangs hung over his gaze and how his long hair curled near the ends, caressing his sharp features so beautifully; Jisung just wanted to take a picture.

Infatuation, or whatever you wanted to call this, presented itself to Jisung so easily. A human, one the far contrast to himself, enamored his gaze so easily. His skin was slightly pale and riddled with scars and fading bruises, knuckles noticeably having been slightly damaged more recently than before, his cuticles short and noticeably chewed. His hands were incredibly thin, yet large despite their muscular nature, veins protruding as he wrote words on words. Jisung's eyes trail upwards, scanning across the hoodie Minho had been wearing with deep interest.

It was black, a signature brand logo on the right side, yet slightly faded, almost as if the male had worn this hoodie more than a dozen times. The strings were slightly frayed, the hood slouched against his shoulders and upper back, fabric slightly torn near the sleeves as strings stuck out in every other direction. Trailing further, Jisung takes in the sharpness of Minho's jaw, glancing at the scars just beneath on his neck, gently fading beneath the cover of his baggy hoodie.

Jisung felt his cheeks warm suddenly, and it's only then that he becomes situationally aware of how hard he must've been blushing. His eyes move away, planting themselves into his book. The words were a blur, completely ignored in front of his gaze as he thought too fondly into Minho's appearance. Yet, the male remains oblivious, eyes focused on his notebook without a care in the world.

"Okay," Minho says quietly, leaning upright. "What about this?"

Jisung blinks awake, putting his book down, seemingly not worried about marking his page as the book rests on the table in front of him. Taking the notebook, Jisung scans through the newly written words with care, absorbing every inch of every statement, thinking into the meaning of the words the male had written with serious concentration.

"It's good." Jisung smiles gently, reading it over once more. "I don't think you should change a thing."

"Seriously?" Minho says with faint surprise, eyes slightly widening as he watches Jisung curiously. Jisung turns his gaze over, smiling when he eyes Minho.

"Yes, seriously. You really didn't need my help with this. You've got this handled, it seems."

"You've helped mold the paper." Minho points out. "I wouldn't have been able to put things in the proper place, not to mention, I'm not even half-way done."

"But it's a promising start." Jisung assures, passing the notebook back over. "You're doing well."

"Why're you so nice to me?" Minho asks. Jisung blinks rapidly, taken aback slightly, thinking a bit too far into the question for his own good.

"It's just a courtesy to be nice to everyone, don't you think?"

"I know that, but–" Minho cuts himself off. "Nevermind."

"No," Jisung presses. "Keep talking. It's okay."

Minho eyes him warily, hands curled around his notebook gently. With a sigh, he looks down at his written pages, jaw tightening as he contemplates. "No one is nice to me anymore."

"I've heard that you're not nice, either." Jisung watches Minho's shoulders begin to tense, and the words tumble from his lips before he can even think into what he was saying. "But I don't believe them."

"You have every right to." Minho leans into the back of his seat, hair hanging in front of his gaze, making his expression nearly unreadable.

"Sure, but I can form my own opinions, can't I?"

"That's the freedom our world allows, is it not?" Minho counters, causing Jisung to slightly smile.

"You're right. But, even if everyone has told me that you have a sour attitude and a harsh exterior, I see beyond that."

"Enlighten me." Minho quips, tilting his head just enough for his hair to gently part to the side, allowing his dark, yet curious, gaze to be seen. "If you know me so well, Jisung, tell me what you see."

"I see pain." Jisung admits, eyeing Minho fondly. He keeps his voice low and calm, raking over Minho's stature as he watches for any sign of discomfort. For someone who had very little social skills and kept no close friends, he had always been able to see people for who they truly were. Empathetic and incredibly observant; two traits of Jisung's that had always countered his loner-like lifestyle. He hated that about himself, finding no use for his socially-specific traits up until this point.

Jisung had always known he had been overly meticulous and rather witty, but being able to connect with someone so easily, to see right through their barriers at a glance felt inhuman. Minho was a near-stranger to him, but he can't help how connected he had felt as they eyed one another in the quiet of the vacant library.

"Not only pain, but true unbridled suffering. You've been through something horrible, something unspeakable. You're closed off, probably for good reason, and I can tell that you've built up several walls as a protection from others. But I don't think it's other people that you're afraid of. I think it's yourself."

"I'm afraid of myself?" Minho inquires, and Jisung nods.

"Yeah. I can't figure out why."

"That's for me to know, and for you to never learn."

"Oh? So, I was right?" Jisung smiles slightly, watching as Minho rolls his dark eyes.

"Never said that."

"You didn't deny it, either."

A smirk fades across Minho's lips, and for the first time since all of this had started, Jisung sees an ounce of amusement settle across Minho's features. He had reached him, ever so slightly; and that was enough to encourage Jisung further.

The session ends without another word. Minho continues his paper and Jisung reads his book, the alarm going off a begrudging thirty minutes later. Minho leaves with a tentative smile, leaving Jisung to clean up his array of books and supplies, piling everything back into his bag as he begins his trek towards the bus stop.

But, it of course could never be that easy.

"Jisungie–" A familiar voice travels down the quiet halls, bringing a chill to weave its way up his spine. "I need to talk to you."

"Not now, Mingi." Jisung rolls his eyes. "I need to get home."

"It's important, so I'd suggest that you stop." Mingi warns, his voice thick with irritation.

With a sigh, Jisung turns on his heel, stopping in the middle of the vacant hallway, eyeing Mingi and Hyunjin both with a bored, tired gaze.

"What?" Jisung asks, watching as Hyunjin smiles, hands finding his pockets as he wets his lips.

"Heard that you've been hanging out with Minho." Mingi eyes Jisung from head to toe, somehow trying to intimidate Jisung with his sheer height and stature alone. Though, Jisung hasn't been phased by the male before, and he surely wouldn't fear him now.

"I'm tutoring him. I'm not hanging out with him. There's a difference."

"I don't want you to continue that." Mingi says, dropping his gaze to glance at the lockers to his left, then turning his attention back towards Jisung. "You need to leave him alone."

"Why? Why the hell does it matter to you?"

"Because–" Hyunjin muses. "We can't have you changing him. Minho's in a vulnerable state. He's susceptible to change, and we rather like our friend how he is."

"It's not my fault if he wants to stop smoking and change his habits. I'm just trying to help him graduate." Jisung folds his arms against his chest. "He and I are not friends. I'm tutoring him. The only interest I have in him is to get my credits from tutoring him, and the only way I can do that is by making sure he passes."

"Tutor someone else." Mingi drawls, eyes narrow. "He doesn't need help from you."

"Too bad, his teachers seem to think so." Jisung shrugs. "It's none of your business. There's nothing you or I can do about it. If he changes, it's not on me. It's on him. Leave me the fuck out of it."

Jisung begins to turn away, but Mingi calls after him. "You can't fucking walk away from me like that–"

"Oh, I can't? What're you going to do about it?" Jisung says as he continues to walk away. "You sure as shit won't fucking touch me. So, do us both a favor and talk to your friend about it."

Mingi says nothing, and Jisung turns back around, pausing his steps. "Or are you too scared that he's going to see how shit the both of you are and is going to leave? Are you that sensitive about your best friend? Or are you really not as close as everyone seems to think you are?"

"You watch your mouth–" Mingi threatens, taking a few steps closer, but Jisung smiles.

"You won't touch me. Your words don't scare me, and you sure as shit don't scare me either. Leave me alone, Mingi. You too, Hyunjin."

With that, Jisung trails down the hall with a sense of victory surging through his veins. His adrenaline had been through the roof, confronting two of the males that had made it their mission to torture him from a distance every day they had seen one another, and yet, Jisung had a feeling this was far from over.

Mingi was being oddly protective of Minho, maybe a little insecure, but even still, it wouldn't keep Jisung away from Minho.

Even moreso, Jisung wanted to pull Minho away from Mingi. He wanted to save him from himself and the influences that had changed him over a year ago; even if that meant putting a target on his own back.