Park Jay had always been a big nerd. The first time you saw him in college, he was hunched over a table in the corner of the campus library, surrounded by a mountain of books and a forest of sticky notes.
The glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose and the way he absentmindedly pushes them up with one finger makes you blush for absolutely no reason.
Definitely not because you imagine him looking your way and meeting your gaze with those intelligent, piercing eyes. No, it couldn't be that, you told yourself.
You were never into the nerdy guys, but somehow, he's attractive in a way that defies your usual preferences.
You started to notice the patterns of his study routine. Every evening at precisely 7 PM, he would arrive with his backpack filled with textbooks and a thermos of what you assumed was coffee.
He'd claim his corner table, and soon enough, the familiar scene of books, notes, and those glasses perched on his nose would unfold before your eyes.
And you enjoyed it. You enjoyed watching him from afar, never daring to approach him.
So why in the world he's now pinning you to a wall, his face so close to yours that you can feel his warm breath against your skin?
Your heart pounds in your chest as you look into his eyes, the same piercing, intelligent eyes that used to make you blush from a distance. But now, they hold some kind of raw desire that sends shivers down your spine.
His fingers gently trail along your jawline, and you can't help but gasp at the sensation. This is a far cry from the quiet, bookish image you had of Park Jay. It's as if you've stepped into an entirely different world, one where the lines between fantasy and reality blur.
His lips, which you'd only seen curved into a slight smile of satisfaction after solving a particularly challenging problem, are now dangerously close to yours.
"What... are you doing?" You stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. You look away, but he gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze once more.
"Why? Because I couldn't stop thinking about you," He breathes, his lips brushing against yours with every word. "All those stolen glances and secret smiles in the library... I wanted more. I've wanted this for so long."
"You're drunk."
The two of you were invited to a party held by the seniors, and since he's your senior as well, he reluctantly agreed to attend it. But the only thing he did was drink glass after glass of Soju and wander around the crowded party, searching for you.
Now, he's managed to corner you in a quiet corner of the place where no one can see you.
Jay's lips curve into a half-smile, still dangerously close to yours. "Maybe I am," He admits, "but that doesn't change how I feel about you. I promise this is not just the alcohol talking."
"What are you-" He leans in closer, and the moment you think he's going to kiss you, his head falls against your shoulder.
You stand there, pinned to a wall, with your crush on the verge of passing out against you and you're not sure how to react.
"Take me home... please." He breathes heavily against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist. You suck in a breath, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach as you process the situation.
With a sigh of relief that he's not about to kiss you in his drunken state, you gently push him away enough to look into his glazed eyes. "Okay, Jay," You say softly, concern lacing your voice. "Let's get you home."
With some effort, you manage to exit the noisy party and step out into the cool night air before you help Jay into a waiting taxi.
He's too drunk to give you his address so you just decide to let him sleep in your apartment, which is thankfully not too far away.
"You're very beautiful," Jay cups your cheeks and you widen your eyes when the taxi driver glances at you through the rearview mirror, clearly eavesdropping on the unexpected compliment.
"Shut up," You whisper and grab his hands while trying to make him sit quietly.
"Yes, ma'am." He nods, showing you how he shuts his mouth and you can't help but laugh and roll your eyes at him.
The rest of the taxi ride is filled with Jay asking about why we park on driveways and drive on parkways or about why he has a sudden craving for pancakes at this ungodly hour.
His questions and comments keep you entertained, and when you reach your apartment, you help him out of the taxi, his arm draped over your shoulder for support.
"How are you so huge?" You mutter, panting while the two of you struggle up the stairs to your apartment. Jay chuckles drunkenly.
"Years of lifting textbooks, my love." Finally, you manage to get him inside your apartment and onto the couch. He flops down with an exaggerated sigh of relief.
When you head to the kitchen to grab him a cup of water to help him sober up and come back to the living room, you find him holding one of the books you were reading.
Your eyes widen when you realize it's a steamy book. "Why are you reading that?" You quickly try to take it from his hold but he stands up and lifts the book so high you can't reach it.
"Oh, come on," he teases, his drunken confidence making him bolder. Then he starts reading a particular paragraph that makes your heart race. "He slides his hands under my waistband, his fingers tracing a slow, tortuous path..."
"Jay, seriously, cut it out!" You plead, feeling utterly mortified. But he puts the book on the couch and tilts his head while he raises an eyebrow.
"I've always wondered what's behind those innocent eyes of yours. Is this what you read in your free time when you're not busy studying or giving me those shy smiles in the library?" His voice is playful, but his eyes still hold that intense, desire-filled gaze that had left you breathless earlier at the party.
Your cheeks burn even hotter as you stammer out a response, "No, it's not like that. I was just... I mean, it's just a book. Also, when did I ever give you shy smiles?"
Jay's laughter fills the room, and he flops back onto the couch. "You underestimate how observant I am, my dear. I've seen those stolen glances and the way you'd quickly look away when I caught you looking."
You can feel your face turning an even deeper shade of red. "I, uh, didn't realize you noticed."
He reaches out and intertwines your fingers with his. "I noticed, and I liked it. Tomorrow, when I'm sober, let me kiss you. I'm too drunk now and I might not remember the way your lips taste, and I don't want to forget that."
