The Spill That Started It All
515 Words
Younseol’s POV
(Present Day, In LA University)
I'm running because I'm almost late, till I accidentally bumped to a guy, walking and holding a coffee in his right hand.
(Splash)
The cappuccino exploded to my shirt.
Younseol: “Oh no!!”
Younseol: “I'm so sorry about the coffee. ”
Mike: (staring at her wet shirt) “ It's fine, how about your shirt? ”
Younseol: “No. Its ok, it's my fault I bumped into you I’m so sorry! Let me pay for—”
Mike: “Wear this.” He shrugged off his jacket, the leather warm and has good smell.
Mike’s POV
She blinked up at me, eyes wide as a startled fawn. No smudged eyeliner. No broken edges. Just softness.
Younseol: “I’m Younseol. Nice to meet you”
Mike:“Almost forgot my manners,I'm Mike,pleasure to meet you too Yoonseol”
Younseol: “I guess your new here, right?”
Mike: “Yeah, to be honest I'm looking for room 1, do you know it? ”
She get shocked, then speak.
Younseol:“So you will be our new classmate..” (then smile)
Mike:“Are you talking about that-”
I didn't finish my word, because she grab my hand, and speak.
Younseol:“hurry, we're already late!!”
Mike:“But what about your wet shirt?”
Younseol's POV
I almost forgot about my shirt, thanks god because he remind it.
We went to school cr and I wear his jacket.
Younseol:“Let's go, we're late, hurry!”
I grab his hand ,then run.
Mike’s POV
Her hand feels small in mine, nails digging into my palm as she drags me through marble corridors. The jacket swallows her frame, sleeves flopping over her knuckles. I catch whiffs of my own cologne on her collar. Strange.
Younseol’s POV
The classroom door looms like a judge. I count three steady breaths—inhale, exhale—before shoving it open.
Professor Kim’s laser glare slices through us.
“Late. Again, Miss Park?”
Twenty heads swivel. My cheeks burn hotter than the coffee stain.
Mike’s POV
She straightens like a soldier.
Yoonseol:“Apologies, Professor! This is Mike Thompson—the transfery student from Boston.”
Professor Kim: “Owh, Mr. Leo's son,Mr. Thompson, do select a seat, so that we can start our discussion for today.”
A girl in front mimes paddling an invisible boat. Snickers ripple.
Younseol’s POV
I steer Mike toward the last empty desk—a two-seater by the fogged windows. His knee brushes mine beneath the particleboard.
Yoonseol Mind: Don’t blush. Don’t you dare blush.
Mike’s POV
She’s rewriting lecture notes with ferocious focus, ink blooming where her pen stabs the paper. The jacket slips off one shoulder, revealing a collarbone dotted with…
Coffee freckles.
Younseol’s POV
He’s staring. Again.
Yoonseol: “Want your jacket back?” I whisper.
Mike: “Keep it.”
His voice stays low, gravel under velvet.
Mike: “Looks better on you anyway.”
The bell rings. He’s halfway to the door when I shout—
Yoonseol: “Wait!”
- Writer
