I spend the next week helping around Seventeen's dorms.

Mingyu wakes me up at me up at six every morning so that we have an hour to make breakfast and eventually clean a bit before everyone else slowly opens their eyes to another hectic day.

Sometimes I'll see Sungcheol and Seokmin in the kitchen together, sipping from cracked coffee mugs while intensely planning out the new mission. Judging by the number of layouts of a building, blueprints, hushed whispers, and grave expressions exchanged, I could tell how important this mission really is before Junghan told me on Tuesday afternoon.

I faced the bathroom mirror as he towered behind me to cut my wild hair with a rusty pair of scissors. He was telling me about the missions they had done in the past, and how they were crappy missions meant for unskilled rookies—not for Seventeen. He said that this mission could determine the future of Seventeen and that I shouldn't bother them or Jihoon. After my hair was its regular jaw-length again, Junghan patted my shoulders and sent me to help Wonwoo in the library.

Strangely enough, I have not seen Jihoon once since last week even though he was to first and most eager to ask for my assistance. He never leaves that office of his; not even for meals. I offer to bring Jihoon his food and check up on him, but I'm always met with the same response: "It's nice that you care so much, but someone else should do it instead. We don't want to bother Jihoon."

I learned very quickly that I was allowed nowhere near or in Jihoon's office—at least until he was done setting up some new software that will be vital for Seventeen's new mission. Sungcheol promised me that I can go and help him as much as I please once he's finished.

Other than that, everyone has been trying to keep me busy. I cook and clean with Mingyu, do laundry with Jisoo, test or fix new droids and other technology with the Savant unit, and help sort or archive books in the library with Wonwoo.

I like working in the library the most, though. I like it because of Wonwoo.

The two of us had a really rocky start. We hardly spoke to each other the first day I was assigned to the library, and he wouldn't stop flashing me odd stares. The only reason we clicked was because I found a book about Aztec history, which was also happened to be one of Wonwoo's favorite books. I was genuinely interested in it and kept asking him questions until his icy demeanor cracked to reveal his true nerdy and pleasant personality underneath.

When our fingers ache from flipping through books and stacking them, he always lets us take a break. During those times I lean against the wall and rest my exhausted eyes while he grabs the nearest book and reads out loud. His deep voice perfectly compliments his calm and intelligent presence.

See, with Wonwoo, I can ask him any question about philosophy, history, or science and he'll have an answer. If he doesn't, we'll find a book about it and look through it together.

So far, it's been smooth sailing.

"There you go," Wonwoo says, tapping the page of the large textbook. "Slugs do have four noses. Two of them are the tentacles on their heads."

He ruffles my hair. "Where did you come up with that question?"

I've only just let him start to touch me.

I shrug. "Seungkwan said that Seokmin oppa looked like a slug because of his nose. I don't know...I guess I just started wondering if slugs really did have noses afterwards."

"Seokmin oppa?"

Shit.

A flush crawls up my neck at the realization of what I had just said. Thankfully, it's covered by the collar. I don't answer and focus on putting the heavy textbook back into its spot on the shelf.

"You're adjusting well," Wonwoo says after an embarrassing moment of silence.

"He told me to call him that," I mutter, keeping my hand on the book's sturdy spine even though it is already in its place.

"And that means," Wonwoo repeats himself, "you're adjusting well. Quite well, in fact. You know, when I first joined Seventeen, I hardly spoke to anyone. It took me at least four months before I could call Sungcheol or Jisoo 'hyung'. And look at you! It's been a week since you came and you've already called some of us 'Oppa'."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah. Some. Don't forget that the others who aren't in the 'some' category really hate my guts."

Case and point: Seungkwan, Junhui, Soonyoung, Chan, and Minghao.

Even though I managed an awkward apology for Soonyoung, he still really doesn't like me. He always keeps me under intense watch in the workshop, never letting me leave the side of the member I'm working with. Also, Chan hates me because I made Soonyoung go completely ballistic on him which in turn made him cry.

Wonwoo puts a hand on my shoulder. "I wouldn't worry about that, Angel. They just need to get adjusted to you. Trust me, they won't hate you fo—"

A sudden knock at the door cuts Wonwoo's comforting words off. Mingyu opens the door and sticks his head in.

"Wonwoo," he says, "I need you to find that cook book I used a couple weeks ago. The one by Ainsworth. I have rice in the cooker, and I don't remember the spices I need to give it that 'explode in your mouth' taste."

Standing on his tiptoes, Wonwoo reaches up to the top shelf that we organized this morning. It's full of culinary books sprinkled with colorful stains, which are their battle scars after spending time in Mingyu's chaotic kitchen. In the second that Wonwoo picks out the book he needs, another one falls from the back pocket of his jeans. I rush forward to pick it up, bending down to avoid being struck in the head by his elbow.

"Here," I say and hand it back, but suddenly freeze.

His outstretched fingers are only millimeters away. I pull away and inspect the words that are holding my attention hostage.

'A NOVEL BY CRESSIDA JONES'

"What's wrong?" Wonwoo asks, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of what I'm so entranced by.

'CRESSIDA JONES'

The cover design, the title or the thickness of the book mean nothing to me. Only the eight letters of the author's name do.

'CRESSIDA'

"Wonwoo, who is this?" I ask. "Who's Cressida Jones?"

Wonwoo seems pleasantly surprised towards my inquiry. "She's my favorite author of all time. She writes excellent murder mystery novels. Some say that she's the next Agatha Christie."

I nod slowly. "Wonwoo?"

He hums in response.

"I'm allowed to pick a name for myself, right? Like a real name? Not just a code name."

He hums again, except there's a grin making his cheeks puff up. He catches on quickly. I give the book to Wonwoo and hold his gaze with a strong sureness I have never felt before.

"Cressida," I say boldly. "I want my name to be Cressida."

Wonwoo's eyes shimmer magically underneath the lights as his grin becomes bigger. "If you're really sure, then let's go tell the others. It's a nice name."

I smile shyly. He ruffles my hair and takes a breath to say something, but is cut off once more as Jisoo throws open the door and pants as if he's been running nonstop. Everyone is suddenly shouting.

"What's going on?" Wonwoo demands.

Jisoo is too exhausted to respond immediately, so when Jihoon passes by and sticks his head through the doorway, he does it for him.

"The GSIC decided to commence the mission early," he says.

"Like now?" I ask, feeling the contagious excitement and anticipation enter my system.

Jihoon nods vigorously. "Like now. There's been a change of plans, Wonwoo. Junhui isn't going anymore so you're heading out with the Offense Unit. Angel, help Jisoo get the boys ready. Then you're with me."

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'*'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Jisoo and I sprint down the corridor, playing a perilous obstacle course game.

We leap over piles of clothing, duck underneath the flickering light bulbs, and press ourselves against the wall as the other boys run frantically past. I'm nearly trampled by Sungcheol who moves at the horrifying speed of a freight train with Hansol slung over his shoulders.

"Let's go!" Hansol shouts over the noise and gestures us to hurry.

He has himself propped up on an elbow and watches us like an uninterested feline. He's shirtless and attired only in sweats.

Most of the boys have given up on staying modest around me. Junhui was the first one I saw shirtless when I walked into the workshop on my third day here. He didn't seem shy or worried that I could see how tanned and muscular his torso was. That sight made me choke and have the intense desire to wash out my eyes with bleach. I saw Mingyu shirtless afterward, then Seokmin, then Sungcheol, and I gave up caring. I just let them do their half-naked thing.

Once we reach the main area, Jisoo pulls two clothing racks into the centre then motions for me to do the same. The Offense Unit is already gathered and immediately helps us with the rest. All twelve racks are pulled out in a matter of seconds. Now I understand why nobody uses the expensive-looking clothes—they're reserved for the Offense Unit for when they go out on missions.

"What outfit today, Sungcheol?" Jisoo asks.

Seokmin—who speedwalks in to grab a blueprint from the corkboard next to the television—says, "We agreed on the overcoats, striped sweaters, black skinny jeans and combat boots," then speedwalks out.

Jisoo goes to a rack labeled '#5' and hands out its contents. With each new garment given out, another boy begins stripping. Sungcheol throws his shirt over his head and begins to unbuckle his belt. Just as he's doing that, Jisoo spins me around so I'm facing the wall and whispers, "Just give them a couple of seconds."

One pants dropping-belt clicking-jacket sleeve pulling moment later, I'm finally needed.

"Angel!" Jisoo calls. "I want you working on Mingyu and Hansol!"

I stand cluelessly in front of Hansol. He seems taller now after having put on a pair of black lace-up boots and looks much more mature. Nothing about him screams 'teenager'.

"W...Work on him?" I mutter to myself. "How the hell...?"

"Fix my collar," he says.

"Brush our hair," Mingyu adds. "Straighten our shirts. Just do whatever to make us look good."

Jisoo is already done with Sungcheol. He has moved on to Wonwoo, who is right beside Mingyu. He's finished one and I've started none.

Going on my tiptoes, I reach up to straighten Hansol's collar, pull down the sweater over his jeans to smooth out any wrinkles, and use the comb that Jisoo handed me to tame his hair. The second I'm finished working on him, he takes off in the direction of the garage, leaving me with a hasty 'thank you' and Mingyu to finish.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Wonwoo is no longer there.

"I've got Mingyu," Jisoo says and gently pushes me away. "Go to Jihoon. He's going to be really pissed if you're not there soon."

Not wanting to face Jihoon's wrath, I sprint towards his office.