❝ d o m i n o e f f e c t ; xing ● melanie
She knew that she was going to be early; but, it was like her Ancient History lecturer liked to prattle on about: To be early is to be on time…or something like that. Hurrying through the crowd of students rushing to get to wherever it was that they were supposed to be—some of them having obviously overslept—she looked around and sighed. Sometimes, it really sucked being as small as she was; too many tall people hovering around. Then again, everyone was tall to Melanie. A lock of blonde was tugged at gently as she attempted to navigate Yonsei’s campus solely based on the map that she’d created in her mind. It was too much of a hassle to fumble and fuss over signs—at least, right now, it was.
Humming the song that effortlessly flowed through her ears, she managed to get to where she was going, after going the wrong way and playing it off twice. The solid doors to the school’s Library stood proud before her and, with a sigh of relief, she pulled one open and hurried inside, nearly melting under the sudden blast of warmth that seeped through chilled bone. “Jeez,” she hissed and rubbed her hands together, pulling off the beanie she wore by the giant, colourful ball attached to it, she ran the fingers of her free hand through blonde locks and looked around while tugging out her earbuds and trying to remember where it was that she and Yixing had agreed to meet. Something about a back roo—Oh, right! One of the back rooms that had often been occupied by students who wanted to be left alone. She’d heard that other things went on in these same rooms, but that was something that she didn’t want to think about at that moment.
How funny would it be to know that he’d gotten a room for that same purpose?
Not funny at all.
It took little time to find an empty room and shuffle inside. At least, she thought it was empty. But, it was far from that. In fact, she was surprised to hear the familiar tone of the voice belonging to the very man she’d been set to meet up with. At first, she was sure he was speaking to her but, after noticing that she wasn’t exactly facing him, and catching wind of the words that fell from the tip of his tongue, she was now certain that he wasn’t addressing her. He was on the phone; but who on earth was he speaking to that he had to say the things that she was hearing.
Someone told her that, sometimes, people did something like this before— but how awkward it was to walk in on it actually happening.
