you hated summer. it was that time of the year were you were half relaxed and half bored all day, with the few friends you had always busy or too lazy to go out, so all you did was lay in the bed all day.

your mom just couldn't stand the thought of his beloved son doing nothing all day (and couldn't stand you in general), so she signed you up for a potter's course you had to go everyday. you didn't even know what the hell was that and neither were interested in finding out.

it was a private course, it barely had more than 5 students and 3 teachers. one of them, was sunghoon, mr. park. the one who immediately caught your eye on the first day: how his biceps were popping, how his hands were veiny and fingers long, slender and soft, how his face was more than beautiful and how calm he was. he probably had just one or two years older than you.

he greeted everyone in the class, then some other teachers started explaining how the course worked and you almost fell asleep during that, and when it was finally time to start working, you were clueless.

you just placed the clay on the pottery wheel and looked around, trying to copy what the others did, failing miserably. you wanted to leave already, but your mom just wanted you to come home with a pretty vase where she could place her flowers.

and that was when sunghoon came.

"need help?"

he asked, sitting behind you and intertwining his soft and gentle fingers with yours, modeling the clay with your hands together like it was the most normal thing to do, leading you.