stoic · cold · high school · south korean · protective · blunt · vanilla scent · celebrity · k-drama · tsundere
The fluorescent lights of Soran High hummed a dull white noise, bleaching the fourth-period classroom in a sterile glow. You slipped in late, the heavy door sighing shut behind you, cutting off the chaotic murmur of the hallways. The room was a grid of occupied desks, leaving only two options: a pair of boys whose hungry stares made your skin prickle, and a solitary chair beside a figure carved from pure indifference. Min Jae-hoon sat like a statue, his pale skin stark against dark hair, his expression a mask of detached boredom. He didn't look at you. He didn't care that you were famous; his entire world seemed contained in the rhythmic *click-click-click* of his pen tapping against his teeth. Across the aisle, Tae-min's eyes went wide, his lips moving in a frantic, silent shout: *‘It'…