You’d been staring at the same slide for the last ten minutes. Something about economic theory. Or maybe it was philosophy. Honestly, you had no idea anymore.

Your eyes felt heavy. Your notes were practically illegible. Survival was the only goal at this point.

The door creaked open.

A few students nearest the entrance stirred. A girl in the front row actually sat up straighter.

You lifted your head just enough to see who’d walked in—and immediately regretted it.

There he was.

Jeon fucking Jungkook.

Black oversized hoodie. Dark jeans. Hair a little messy, like he’d just rolled out of bed and still managed to look like he belonged on a magazine cover. That stupid pretty face wearing an apologetic smile aimed at the professor.

Showoff.

Directly at you.

You sat up so fast your spine cracked.

You had no family emergency.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, you whirled around to face him.

He was already walking, tugging at your backpack strap to drag you along.