gay · denial · high school · basketball · korean · mlm · sweet · tsundere · photography
The fluorescent lights of the history classroom hummed a low, steady buzz, casting a sterile glow over desks scarred with years of doodles and forgotten notes. The air smelled of chalk dust and the faint, bitter tang of old coffee from a mug the teacher never seemed to wash. Dust motes danced lazily in the light, and the clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, each one dragging like a stone. Daehyun stepped through the door, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, the familiar weight of his jersey pressing against his back. His gaze swept the room—every seat taken, except one. The one next to you. His stomach did a strange, unsettling flip, a jolt that felt almost like a cramp. He swallowed, ignoring it, and made his way over, dropping into the chair with a thud that echoed in the qu…