Chapter Text
This school was an absolute circus, filled with bratty future trust-fund babies and wannabe Instagram influencers. You already felt out of your depth when you’d walked into the gates of Iris Way Academy in your sunflower-yellow dress and rainbow, colour-coded folders. Now, you had several kids at your feet spewing absolute nonsense when it came to the level they were meant to be at in regards to their mathematical ability.
Kindergarten kids weren’t meant to study algebra, they were supposed to be finger painting, struggling to spend the duration of the day without digging their pudgy fingers into their nostrils. Instead, you were surrounded by five and six-year-olds insisting they be taught about prime numbers and fractions. You’d planned to educate them on addition, so much for your carefully curated and colourful tutorial session.
By the end of the day, you were already figuring out how you could quit when you noticed a small figure still taking up space on the circle-time carpet. Or, as it was known in this school, the carpet. Approaching the bundle, you gingerly tilted your head, hoping to lock eyes with the little girl who seemed far too preoccupied with staring out of the window.
“Hey there,” You murmured, your voice taking on your usual “teacher” voice, raising a few octaves and adopting a soft, whimsical lilt to it, “have your parents not arrived yet?” You knelt down beside the girl, her soft, tear-drop shaped eyes staring out of the window, glassy and round.
“My papa is coming. He’s always late,” Her voice was incredibly soft, nowhere near as abrasive as the other students had been when they’d accosted you during the duration of the day. For the first time since you stepped into the new school, you were pleased to find a child that seemed to be acting their age.
“When does he normally make it? Is his number in the book? I could call him,”
“No, he’ll be here. He always makes it,”
She seemed awfully sure that her dad would be arriving soon, so you took a break from marking and decided to seat yourself beside the girl. Her straight-cut bangs made her cheeks look chubby and cute, reddened naturally as she absentmindedly clung onto one of her braids that fell over her shoulder. The silence was just beginning to overwhelm you, being the kind of person who didn’t stay quiet for long, and you were about to speak when you heard hurried footsteps coming down the hall, skidding to a stop at the door to the classroom just as you looked over your shoulder.
“Here he is,” The little girl said, sounding as if this had been a regular occurrence. You glanced to her as she began to hike her bag onto her shoulder, standing with her before your eyes caught on the figure entering the room.
“Dae, sweetheart, I’m so sorry –” The man approached you both, his steps faltering a little when he saw you, confusion marring his features as you stopped for a second to take him in. He seemed young, a lot younger than a lot of the dads you’d seen come to pick their kids up earlier, and he was dressed simply, a white dress shirt and black slacks. You noticed a pair of expensive-looking black sunglasses pushed up onto his head, brushing back his dark, almost black hair. “Oh, you’re not Mrs Han,”
Dae huffed from beside you, walking over on heavy feet to meet her dad half-way, threading her tiny hand in his, “Papa, I told you, it was in the letter. This is Miss Y/N,”
An awkward smile graced your lips, your hand instantly darting out as you introduced yourself, “Hi! I started here today, I’m new so forgive me if I’m not quite used to everyone’s names just yet,”
A cocked brow and twitch of his lips later, the man took your hand, warm and strong, shaking it once before he let go almost immediately, “Jung. Hoseok Jung, I’m Dae’s father,”
Against your better judgement, you couldn’t help but notice how attractive Hoseok – Mr Jung was. You weren’t used to seeing someone so…young. He couldn’t have been more than maybe a couple of years older than you. While you were happy to find some eye candy, you couldn’t help but notice there seemed to be a glint of amusement in his eyes as he listened to Dae talk about her day.
“You looked at shapes?” Hoseok scoffed, his brows raised as he turned from looking down at Dae to you, “Last week the kids were studying fraction equivalents with Mrs Han,”
He was making fun of you. Wow, what an ass. “I’m just following the national curriculum with the children during my first few days, so I can see where the children are at myself,”
Hoseok didn’t respond to that, simply humming quietly as Dae tugged on his shirt. “Papa, I wanna go,”
He placed his hand on the crown of her head, grinning down at her with a smile he clearly saved for his daughter. When he looked at you, his condescending expression was fixed back in place. “It’s been interesting, Miss Y/N. It will be fun to see how long you last,”
The deep furrow in your brows was your only response as Hoseok led his daughter from the classroom, hand in hand and barely sparing you a second glance. He seemed just as stuffy as everyone else in the school, and you couldn’t help but develop a feeling of dread deep in the pit of your tummy and you looked over at your desk, littered in rainbow-shades of card you’d been halfway through cutting.