Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He should have seen this coming. 

That’s Jimin’s first thought when he sees the naked body pressed against his boyfriend - correction, ex-boyfriend . 

“J-Jimin” Jinseok stammers, clambering off the bed in such haste he nearly trips. “Baby this isn’t what it looks like.” 

“Then what is this supposed to mean? ” Jimin wants to ask because the situation is clear-cut. There’s no ambiguity or grey area behind the sour stench of sex in the air or the stranger who lays in Jinseok’s bed, dishevelled and guilty. 

Instead, with a perfectly stoic expression, Jimin crosses the room, stepping over used condoms to reach for his jacket slung over the chair, left by him the previous day. He grabs it, turns, and heads straight for the door. 

Jinseok sticks an arm out, blocking him. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Baby please. Say something. Anything . You can yell at me if you want” 

“I’ll leave your things outside your door tomorrow” Jimin replies, unfazed. He stares straight ahead, focusing hard on the small scratch etched into the wooden door. 

“Why aren’t you mad?” Jinseok demands, voice rising in agitation. He deserves a hard slap on the face for having the audacity to ask, yet Jimin remains dead silent which only infuriates him even more. “See, you don’t give a fuck about our relationship!”

“I do give a fuck” Jimin shoots back, apathetic demeanour showing its first crack. “I care about you, I care about us, a lot .” 

“Well you’re sure as hell not showing it” 

“Because” Jimin starts, fighting to keep his tone even. He’s rather embarrassed to say what comes next, feeling as though he’s writing his vulnerability on a card and slapping it open on the table for everyone to see. “I was expecting this to happen.” 

Jinseok’s dark brows draw tight. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing” Jimin dismisses. It’s not something for Jinseok to know, and much less the stranger who’s still laying in the bed next to them, gawking at their argument like they are animals in the zoo. “Get out of my way” He shoves Jinseok’s arm away, clearing his escape path. 

He makes it out the front door. The frantic urgency to get out of there has him bolting down the stairs instead of waiting for the lift. Two steps at a time, he exits the building, frantic footsteps slapping against the concrete as he cuts to the bus stop. 

Only when he’s safely back in his dorm room, when the door closes shut does he finally come to a stop, sagging against the doorframe, panting for air, back and neck damp with sweat. 

And then he cries, wretched sobs that have him biting his palm, trying to muffle the sounds. His body shakes and heaves, like a helpless leaf caught in a raging typhoon, subjected to the winds of his despair. 

It’s not about his relationship with Jinseok, it’s about having his worst fear come true. 

He can’t be loved. 

______

“Welcome to G048 - Classics in Oriental Philosophy. I am Dr Kim Yeon Hwa, you can just call me Professor Kim….” 

“I can’t believe you roped me into this module” Hoseok grumbles, struggling to fit his long legs in the tight space under their desks. The lecture theatre had undergone renovations over its annual three-month break, restructuring the layout to accommodate more students. Practically it was a sound decision, but measured in terms of Hoseok’s comfort, not so much. 

“Stop whining, I already bought you food!” Jimin hisses, pointing to the vanilla cream bun packaged in a bright yellow wrapper. 

“I want another one” 

Jimin gasps, betrayed. “Are you exploiting me right now?” 

“This is so boring!” Hoseok whines under his breath, cautious to keep his volume down lest they get reprimanded. 

“We just started,” Jimin tries to explain. “It will get more interesting later on” 

“I’m such a good friend” Hoseok proclaims, “you’re so lucky to have me” 

“Whatever” Jimin huffs out, giving his forehead a hard flick. Hoseok yelps, earning him two sharp glares from the girls seated in front of them. Hoseok bows, muttering an apology. 

“Your final grade will consist of various components, quizzes, individual essays and a group project on-” 

The door opens, interrupting her sentence with a loud squeak. All head turns, curious. Professor Kim’s eyes slant in irritation. “Late for the very first class? I will have everyone know that I do not tolerate tardiness” 

“I’m sorry” the voice is deep and calm, though not necessarily sincere. “It won’t happen again” 

The student straightens up from his bow, lips pulled into a disarming smile. It seems to work, judging from the way Professor Kim softens, frown losing its hard edge. 

“Holy shit” Hoseok leans over the desk, squinting his eyes. “Is that-”

Jimin’s sharp inhale has Hoseok swiftly cutting his sentence short, pressing his lips in a tight line to stop himself from saying a word more. His best friend is barely grasping the reality in front of him. A solid confirmation would be too overwhelming. 

Jimin, for a good second, is wholly convinced that he’s dreaming. In a cliche move, he pinches himself, digging his sharp nails into his skin. The immediate stinging pain that follows proves him wrong. 

But it can’t be. It just can’t be. Jimin has spent countless nights giving this careful thought. According to his calculations, factoring in real-life conditions, the probability of this occurring was close to zero. 

But somehow, on a stroke of incredible luck, it overcame every limitation, pushing through to manifest in reality. 

Because Jeon Jungkook is - in real living flesh and not some freaky hallucination - here, right in front of him. 

You can’t forget your first love, and you sure as hell can’t look away when you meet them again after 6 years. 

“What’s your name?” Professor Kim asks. 

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook” 

“Oh my god he’s so good looking” a voice behind Jimin whispers, and he has to fight the urge to turn around and see who it is. The swift exchange of glances and hushed murmurs that ripple across the lecture theatre isn’t discreet, despite their attempt to be. Jimin knows what it all means, they’re already smitten. Even after all these years, Jungkook still has the same effect. 

Jimin can see why though. If 15 year old Jungkook was handsome, 21 year old Jungkook was devastating. Gone was the lanky build and arms that seemed too gangly for his frame, Jungkook now was all perfect proportions and lean muscle. His hair is much longer now, no longer the straight clipped fringe that hung neatly above his brows, now tousled waves styled meticulously, a parting slightly to the left to reveal a glimpse of his forehead. 

“Well Jeon Jungkook-ssi, I’ll be keeping an eye out for you” Professor Kim warns, crooked finger raised. “Go sit down” 

Jungkook bows once more, and despite the professor’s annoyance, saunters leisurely to his seat. It’s just a few rows down from where Jimin is, and when Jungkook turns back to hook his bag behind his chair, their eyes meet. 

A part of Jimin is afraid that Jungkook has forgotten him, years eating away at his memories until there is nothing left. But Jungkook’s cool expression slips, eyes widening, and he’s stuck there with his back twisted, eye contact now holding a whole new meaning and purpose. Jimin is the first to break it, looking down at his lap, entangling his fingers until it’s one massive knot. 

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asks, placing a comforting hand on Jimin’s knee. Jimin doesn’t know how to answer that. There are a million different thoughts ricocheting off the walls in his mind like tiny balls, bouncing to and fro and he can’t catch hold of any one of them. 

There’s one thing he’s sure of though, and it’s that he does not want to be here. 

Professor Kim’s earnest teachings get reduced to white noise that fades in and out, valiantly trying to break through Jimin’s endless internal monologue. He can only see the back of Jungkook’s head, but it’s enough to feel mocking.  

“I will send the email with your groupings tonight” Professor Kim announces at the end of the class, “please remember to check” 

“Let’s go” Jimin urges Hoseok, hounding him to move quickly so that they can leave. There’s only one exit, a design flaw that’s now inconveniencing Jimin because it means he has to walk past Jungkook. 

The task proves to be as difficult as he expected it to be. Caught in the throng of students who were moving at a snail’s pace, he’s forced to shuffle slow and painful steps. He can feel Jungkook’s unrelenting stare on him, so intense it’s almost a tangible sensation on his cheek. He keeps his eyes forward, his entire face hot. 

Even when he’s out of the lecture theatre, far from it, his heart still pounds - an erratic rhythm that just won’t even out.

He can’t explain it. A part of him wanted, longed, craved to see Jungkook again. Yet now that he’s here, Jimin wishes he would just disappear. 

_____

In Professor David Hand’s book The Improbability Principle, he discusses the Law of Inevitably which states that one of the sets of all possible outcomes must occur. Essentially, out of all the possible outcomes, each one is bound to happen, somehow. 

“Let’s introduce ourselves” Namjoon starts, breaking the ice. “I’m Kim Namjoon and I’m majoring in English Literature” 

“I’m Kim Minji and I’m majoring in Business Analytics” Minji is pretty, has straight silver hair that ends at her shoulders. She doesn’t seem daunted by the fact that she’s the only girl in the group, smiling enthusiastically.

“I’m Park Jimin” Jimin introduces, the volume of his voice dropping a decibel lower out of shyness, “I’m studying Biomedical Science” 

“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” Jungkook says last, “I’m also studying Business Analytics” 

Yeah. So somehow , Jungkook and him have wound up in the same group. Jimin sinks further in his chair, clenching his jaw so tight it aches. 

“Oh! You two are in the same course!” Namjoon points out, gesturing between Minji and Jungkook. “Do you two know each other?” 

“No, but we can get to” Jungkook replies smoothly, giving Minji a smile. A smile just for her and no one else. That’s the thing about Jungkook, he always makes you feel like you’re something special. Minji practically glows with the attention, a faint pink colouring her cheeks and Jimin is reacquainted with the way irrational jealousy feels - an uncomfortable jab in the chest. 

The project is worth 20% of their grade, and it requires them to analyse the story assigned to their group and create a presentation of the story’s central themes and how it relates to the concepts taught in class. They were assigned “ Those Who Walk Away From Omelas ”, with their presentation slotted in week 10. 

“I think we could each be in charge of a few paragraphs and work on it alone before compiling it all together” Jimin suggests, “because doing everything together might not be feasible”

“I agree, '' Namjoon echoes. Jimin nods, “how about the rest?” 

“Me too!” Minji replies, nodding her head vigorously. “My schedule is pretty tight I don’t think I have the space for many meetings” 

They look at Jungkook expectantly who’s leaned back against the chair, fiddling with the silver bracelet adorning his wrist. “I’m fine with that, '' he answers, but his field of vision only involves Minji and Namjoon, promptly refusing to even look in Jimin’s direction even though he’s the one who asked the question. 

Jimin can’t restrain the gloomy glare he sends Jungkook’s way. And he’s not Park Jimin if he isn’t petty, which is he doesn’t laugh along when Jungkook makes a joke later on, lips clamped in a wry line even though Minji and Namjoon are practically falling out of their chairs. 

The tension between them doesn’t go unnoticed. Minji glances back and forth between them more than once, and Namjoon is nudging his knee under the table when he doesn’t respond to Jungkook’s attempts at small talk. 

“Alright guys, I have another class so I can’t stay,” Minji declares after an hour of discussion and chitchat. “It was nice meeting you all though! See you all at the next meeting!” 

The rest of them wave, sounding their goodbyes. “Wait” Jungkook calls out, making Minji pause in her packing. “I have some snacks from a welfare pack. You guys can take some if you like” 

He reaches into his bag, pulling out 3 packets of gummy worms. Minji and Namjoon cheer as they receive theirs, thanking Jungkook happily. Jungkook turns to Jimin, about to pass him the last one when he suddenly puts it back in his bag, switching it for a chocolate bar instead. “Here”

“Oh?” Namjoon says from the side, conspiratorially, as if he’s a detective that’s just made a crack at the case. “How did you know Jimin doesn’t like gummies?” 

And that’s when Jimin lifts his head up, finally, finally looking Jungkook straight to the face. The smile Jungkook gives him is a far cry from his usual standard. This one lacks any charm or finesse. It’s awkward and unsure, corners of his lips twitching like he’s debating how far to pull them. 

Looking at Jungkook, Jimin thinks he hates him. He wants to hate him, he’s supposed to hate him. 

And yet. 

His hand is starting to grow sticky - the chocolate bar in his hand melting in the sweltering afternoon heat. His resolve to hate Jungkook is starting to suffer the same demise.

“Thanks” he finally murmurs, and he can’t help but give Jungkook a small smile. Jungkook’s response only serves to bring more damage because his smile grows even wider , eyes curving and it makes Jimin’s heart do a little jump. 

“See you guys,” Jungkook says after he finishes packing his bag. He turns to give them a wave, gaze lingering on Jimin before he’s off. 

The split second Jungkook is out of hearing shot Namjoon barrels into Jimin’s side, bombarding him with questions. “Do you know him? Who is he? What’s with the both of you? Are you two dating or something?” 

The last question has Jimin choking on his spit. “What? We aren’t dating!” 

“Friends with benefits?” 

“What the hell? No!” 

“You guys definitely have something ” Namjoon insists relentlessly. “There’s some weird tension between the both of you. Honestly, at the start I thought you two had beef or something, but then the whole gummy worm thing threw me off and now I’m just confused.”

“We used to be friends in high school,” Jimin explains, choosing to omit specific details. 

“That’s it?” Namjoon asks, doubtful. “Then shouldn’t you two be happy to reunite? Why was it so awkward? Did you two have a falling out?” 

“Why do you ask so many questions?” 

“I just want to know!” 

“There’s nothing!” Jimin exclaims, “can we just go now?” He doesn’t want to talk about it, he hates talking about it. It’s a shameful secret he’s determined to hide from the world. The only people he has told are his sister and Hoseok, the two most trusted people in his life, and even that took him years . 

_____

“ Fuck ” Jimin rocks his hips forward, coming with a groan. His head drops onto Hyunwoo’s sweat slicked shoulder, panting hard as waves of pleasure ripple down his spine. 

“Did so well for me baby” Hyunwoo praises, running his hands over Jimin’s lithe body, dipping into the smooth curves. “You sound so hot. I wish I could hear it everyday” Jimin lets him ramble, too dizzy to push him away. 

However, the second the black spots in his vision clear he’s hoisting himself up and climbing off Hyunwoo’s lap. He wipes himself clean, changes into his fresh pair of clothes and grabs his bag in one fell swoop. He’s already halfway out the door while Hyunwoo has just roused from the post-orgasm haze. 

“Jimin wait!” 

Jimin spins around. “Yes?” he scans the room, “did I forget something?” He pats himself down, checking if he has his phone and keys. 

“No it’s just….” Hyunwoo sits up in his bed, “Why don’t you stay for dinner? I can cook us some udon” 

Udon is Jimin’s favourite. Hyunwoo’s round eyes are impossibly big, keen and earnest. Jimin shifts further out of the door, uncomfortable. “It’s okay” he dismisses, “I’m not hungry” 

“Well we can-”

“I have to meet a friend,” Jimin curtly interrupts. Hyunwoo’s face crumples so quickly, like a wad of paper in someone’s fist. Jimin feels a little bad. “Sorry” 

“It’s okay” Hyunwoo replies, trying to keep his spirits up. “Maybe another time?” 

“Sure,” Jimin says before slipping away, closing the door shut. He shakes his head, deleting Hyunwoo’s contact from his phone.

He dials another number. “Where are you? Let’s eat dinner I’m starving” 

“Did you skip lunch again?” 

“No, I had some strenuous activities” 

Hoseok groans at the implication. “Which one was it this time?” 

“Hyunwoo, the junior” Jimin supplies, jogging Hoseok’s memory. His best friend struggles to keep up with the different names. 

“Ah!” Hoseok exclaims, “isn’t he the one that likes you?” 

Jimin’s steps falter for a moment before he continues walking. “I just deleted his number” 

“Come on he’s a sweet kid!” Hoseok protests loudly, before he adds on in a hesitant murmur, “why don’t you give him a chance?” 

Jimin steps out of the building, bracelets rustling as he tucks a hand into his pocket. The sky is a shade of cobalt blue, growing darker each time he blinks. “What do you want to eat?” he asks, swiftly switching the topic. “ Ramen ? Kimbap ?” 

There’s a pause as if Hoseok is debating his words. Eventually, a resigned sigh crackles over the phone. “I can’t. I’m meeting my theatre mates” 

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?!” Jimin cries out. His stomach grumbles along, churning and throwing a tantrum. 

“I’m sorry! Another day?” 

“Whatever” Jimin promptly hangs up the call, mood taking an irrational dive. He suffers from the chronic illness of hangriness , a.k.a getting angry when he’s hungry. He’s convinced it was inherited, passed down to him from his mother. She too is a menace when she can’t eat on time. Jimin sighs, trudging down the steep slope and cutting across the road to the 7-11 glowing with its neon signs. 

The window looks out to the winding stretch of pavements, students passing to and fro in knots, some weary from a long day, some buzzing with excitement, eager to begin their night of rampant drinking. Jimin watches them, wired earphones hanging from his ear, steam from his hot cup of noodles warming his cold cheeks. 

He’s alone, until someone takes the seat one down from him, the loud clatter as they settle down announcing their presence. Jimin looks over out of instinct and freezes. 

Jungkook is preoccupied, one hand scrolling through his phone, the other flicking the tab on his can, popping it open with a hiss. He must have sat here unwittingly, completely oblivious to his surroundings with the way his eyes are glued to his screen, hearing blocked by the rock song blasting in his ears, so loud Jimin can hear it from where he’s seated. 

At this point Jimin is starting to get freaked out. His scientific mind sets it as another bizarre coincidence, yet he’s starting to suspect if there’s some higher power involved, a higher power hellbent on screwing him over . 

There’s still a chance to escape. If Jimin can just figure out how to balance a flimsy cup of hot soup, his drink, his phone and wallet and dormitory access card with only two hands with minimal movement and sound-

Jungkook glances over, first look still unaware but then he does a second take. “Jimin?” 

Never mind. 

“Hey” Jimin replies, giving a stiff nod. “I uh-I didn’t see you there” 

Jimin is expecting them to return to their meals, keeping to themselves but to his mixed surprise and chagrin Jungkook plucks out his Airpods and sets his phone face down on the counter. “No time for a proper dinner?” 

“Oh” Jimin replies slowly, caught off guard but quickly recovers. “I was supposed to eat with a friend but he ditched so I decided to just come here. You?”

“I’m rushing an assignment,” Jungkook explains with a grimace. “It’s due tomorrow morning. My fault for procrastinating” 

Jimin can’t hold back his amused snort. His hand flies to cover his mouth. “Sorry” 

But Jungkook’s eyes are kind, head tilting. “Why? What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing it’s just” Jimin stirs in his soup in pointless circles, nerves rising. “You haven’t changed.” He regrets the words the second they leave his mouth. Was that the right move? Should he have brought up their past?

To his relief, Jungkook’s lips quirk up.  “Hey” he says, placing a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

His reaction is encouraging, spurring Jimin on. “Remember how you used to annoy Mrs Myung so much?” he recalls, “She had to chase you for your homework all the time” 

“Not all the time!” Jungkook protests, quickly jumping in to defend himself, “frequently, sure but not all the time . She had a soft spot for me you know” 

Jimin props his chin on his fingers that are steepled downwards, fixing Jungkook with an unimpressed stare. “She literally locked you out of the classroom” 

“So she expresses affection differently” 

Jimin presses his lips against his knuckles, muffling the soft laugh that slips out. He really hasn’t changed, still retaining that charming wit. It made him the centre of attention in class, (provided he wasn’t sleeping), livening up dull lessons with jocose remarks that had everyone giggling. Every teacher would go pink in the face, torn between scolding him or giving in to their urge to laugh along. 

“You locked her out the next week. Was that your way of expressing affection too?” Jimin asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Of course” Jungkook replies unabashedly, shooting Jimin a sly grin. “It was our game together. A little thrill to keep the spark alive” 

“I think you were just being a pain in the ass” 

His blunt comment catches Jungkook off guard, who bursts into laughter. But with poor timing, as he was just eating a spoonful of rice. He chokes, falling into a coughing fit. 

“Oh shit” Jimin splutters, and on first instinct, pushes him his own drink. “Drink some” 

Jungkook accepts it gratefully, taking large mouthfuls to clear his throat. He quickly recovers, and when he does he’s bringing the cup to eye level, peering inside. 

“Sprite and Iced Lemon Tea?” he asks excitedly, “I thought I was the only one who did that!” 

Jimin feels as though he’s been caught red-handed, the crime being still clinging onto pieces of Jungkook. “Yeah...I picked it up from you...back then” 

“I have to study!” Jimin whines. Jihoon pushes him into 7-11, hands on his shoulders insistent. “And you have to take breaks” he reminds, sounding annoyed but there’s that undertone of concern that he just can’t hide. They are all the same age, yet Jihoon feels like a hyung, reliable and dependent. 

“Jungkook-ah, back me up” Jihoon calls out, peering over the aisles. Jungkook appears from around the corner, a drink already in hand. “I agree,” he nods, “you’re pushing yourself too hard.” They all don the same uniform - buttoned-up shirt with short sleeves and trousers but while it looks stiff and boring on Jihoon and Jimin, it looks almost stylish on Jungkook. Jimin supposes it’s not due to a tailoring mistake but the way Jungkook carries himself, a whole lot of confidence, mouth perpetually in a smirk. 

“Our finals are near” Jimin replies, anxiety rising all over again. He’s a perfectionist at heart, striving for that stellar row of straight A’s in his books is a must. Jungkook shakes his head. “Why are you so worried? You always do well. Think about me, they are making me study at the staff lounge after school to “monitor” me”

Jihoon has drifted away, enamoured by the rows and rows of vibrant packaging, bold words and cute animated characters persuading him to buy their product. Jungkook pulls Jimin to the chiller, gesturing to the wide array of cold canned drinks. “Buy one ‘cause you really need to chill” 

The pun is horrifying lame. Jimin rolls his eyes, but a small smile perks on his lips. He scans his selection, unable to come to a decision. He looks at Jungkook, eyeing the cup in his hand. “What’s that?”

“Sprite and Iced Lemon Tea,” Jungkook explains, gesturing to the drink dispensing machine. Technically you pay for only one drink, but universally it’s a rule that’s bent. Jimin eyes his concoction with great scepticism. “Sounds weird” 

“Don’t knock it till you try it”

Hesitantly, Jimin takes a small sip. His eyes light up in pleasant surprise. “It’s actually pretty good!”

He tries to take another sip but Jungkook is yanking his cup away, clicking his tongue. “You were shitting on it and now you want more?”

“Just another sip!” Jimin tries to bargain, surging forward but Jungkook’s arm shoots up, holding the cup high in the air. “No way! Get your own!”

Jimin tilts his chin up, eyes narrowed in a glare. Jungkook is solid 10 centimetres taller Jimin, making the task of reaching the cup near impossible. 

“This isn’t fair!” Jimin protests, tiptoeing. Jungkook looks down, smirking as he takes in Jimin’s tiny frame. 

Without warning he steps forward, closing the gap between them. The front of their sneakers touch, and Jimin’s head tilts up as Jungkook leans forward, towering over him.

“I didn’t realise how short you were,” Jungkook muses. Jimin meets his gaze, looking into those dark pools that seem to hold galaxies in them, twinkling. 

And for the first time in his life, Jimin’s heart flutters. 

The flashback unlocks a cascading wave of other memories and it sends Jimin reeling, gripping the tabletop till his knuckles turned white. Jungkook, oblivious, starts to laugh in amazement. “Oh my god I can’t believe you remembered that!”

Jimin unlocks his phone, pretending he just received a message. “Oh sorry but I have to go now” he excuses, trying to appear composed as he packs his things. “I need to help a friend” 

“Oh” Jungkook replies with a slight frown, watching as Jimin fumbles for his keys, dropping it a number of times. “um...I hope they are okay?” 

“Yeah it’s just-” Jimin throws his cup into the bin, wallet wailing at how it was still three-quarters full. “-just something happened.”

“See you,” Jimin says briskly, not looking Jungkook in the eye. He’s passing by Jungkook in a blur but Jungkook reacts quickly, calling out to him. “Jimin”

Jimin stops, turning around hesitantly. “Yeah?”

“It was fun catching up with you today. We should do it again sometime” Jungkook says. He has slowed his words down, carefully pouring sincerity into each one. His dark hair hangs over his forehead, striking against his fair skin. He’s impossibly handsome. 

Jimin feels it all over again - the hot burn on his cheeks, the violent thud of his heart, the slippery struggle to hold eye contact, feeling like he’s going to burst out of his skin. 

“Yeah sure,” he replies half-heartedly, looking away. “See ya” He exits the store, walking down the street with a hasty urgency. There’s a sense of deja vu in every step he takes; lately it seems as though he’s always running away. 

He looks behind him. He can still see the store from where he is, though it’s shrunk due to the distance, looking like a miniature toy in his eyes. He thinks of Jungkook in his grey hoodie, head tilted and lips pulled into a smile. 

There’s a stir in his chest. However, it’s not delicate butterflies. These are moths, dark and angry, flapping and beating their dirt brown wings to warn Jimin. Danger. He can’t repeat the same mistake. 

_____

“Iced latte with an extra espresso shot” Namjoon announces, setting the cup in front of Jimin, “just like you asked.” 

Jimin accepts it with grateful hands. “You are a lifesaver” He takes a long sip, nearly moaning around the straw. “God this is better than sex” 

“Long night?” Namjoon ventures, Jimin’s full-bodied reaction at caffeine and dark eye-circles acting as clues. “Stayed up to finish my part” Jimin’s voice is hoarse from exhaustion. “My head is killing me” 

“Poor baby” Namjoon coos, petting his head. Jimin nuzzles into his shoulder with a whine, soaking up the affection. The concourse is quiet, only a few students in sight, moving around groggily, shielding their eyes from the early morning sun. 

“Where are they?” Jimin grumbles irritatedly, checking his watch. Their group agreed to meet at 9 a.m, yet it was nearly 9:30 and Jungkook and Minji were nowhere to be found. Namjoon scrolls through his phone. “I’ll give them a call” Jimin, cranky, buries his face deeper into Namjoon’s shirt, inhaling the soft cotton. 

Jungkook and Minji finally arrive, together, iced americanos in hand. “Sorry we’re late!” Minji exclaims, pulling a chair out with a horrific screech that has Jimin wincing. “The wait was insane” 

Jimin blanches. They made them wait for half an hour because they were too busy buying coffee ? “You should have chosen a shop with a shorter queue” He can’t help but jab, slightly irritated. 

“We went because the queue was short,” Jungkook says, rushing to Minji’s defense. “But they got our order wrong and had to remake our drinks” He gives Jimin a disapproving frown as if disappointed by his behaviour. 

Jimin, who has reverted back to hating Jungkook ever since their encounter last week only grows more agitated. He rolls his eyes, ignoring Jungkook in favour of tearing open the flap of his bag. 

“Let’s try to be punctual next time okay?” Namjoon says, gentle but firm. “Maybe you could try queuing earlier so even if they take long it won’t affect you” 

Jimin admires Namjoon for that, his ability to remain diplomatic and calm regardless of the circumstances. He himself is the opposite - short-tempered and impulsive. He spews out words in the heat of the moment, wallowing in the regret that quickly catches up to him afterwards. 

Minji apologises fretfully, and there it is, the regret that comes because now he looks like the bad guy. Jungkook apologises as well, though he seems to be doing it more out of obligation than anything. The throbbing in Jimin’s head grows worse, he just wants to go home. 

“Alright!” Namjoon says, getting them back on track. “Let’s start the discussion before we run out of time. I have a tutorial after this.” 

Namjoon goes first, then Jimin next, sharing his part that he slaved away at until 3 a.m. There are a couple of grammatical errors, mistakes his exhausted mind could not see but nevertheless it’s a decent piece of work, and more importantly, one that had effort. 

Minji and Jungkook go next, in that order. However their work is slipshod - brief sentences, poor analysis, uncompleted sections. Jimin’s eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper and by the time Jungkook is done they are two dark slits on his forehead. 

“Um...you two left out quite a few questions from the guide” Namjoon starts, attempting to be as tactful as possible, “Was it because you didn’t know how to do them?” 

“I’m sorry” Minji pouts, “Jungkook and I have been really busy with the basketball tournament next month. Jungkook is the captain while I’m on the cheerleading team” 

Jimin shifts in his chair, simmering with frustration. “Namjoon and I have commitments too but we still managed to complete our work” 

“Yeah but” Minji trails off, exchanging a look with Jungkook that is for some reason aggravating . “No offense, stuff like community work or a cappella is nowhere near as hard as preparing for a nationwide tournament.” 

Jimin gets it, the tournament is hard work. However, while it explains their lack of effort it doesn’t justify it. He isn’t looking to pick a fight, he just wants them to stop producing excuses and apologize for their mistakes. 

He waits for a moment, wanting to see what Jungkook will do. But to his disappointment Jungkook remains quiet, face carefully blank. 

Namjoon shoots Jimin a warning look as if to say “ don’t ” but Jimin’s mouth flies open anyways, unable to control his temper. 

“Well seeing how you find it so hard and how it’s getting in the way of your graded assignment, may i emphasise, then maybe you should reconsider if you can handle it” 

“That’s a little harsh don’t you think?” Jungkook immediately cuts in, tone clipped. 

His words don’t anger Jimin. No, it’s worse - it upsets Jimin. It’s just one mere sentence over a silly fight and yet it feels as though a needle has driven its way through Jimin’s heart. Maybe it’s the betrayal and jealousy of Jungkook taking Minji’s side over his, or maybe it’s because this situation is eerily familiar, reminding him of the last time Jungkook had humiliated him.

“I have a class. I need to go” Jimin grabs his bag and storms out. 

The regret makes a delayed entrance, only arriving when he’s on the bus, standing in the aisle, swaying along with each jerk of the old vehicle. A part of him wished he never calmed down because clearing the fog of irrational anger meant making way for guilt . He can’t believe he flared up at what was only their second group meeting. He should have just let it go, now he’s gone and made things awkward for the rest of the semester. Great . 

The distress only worsens his headache. He cradles his head in his palm, mourning how heavy it feels. The ache starts to spread its long tendrils, clawing at the back of his eyelids. He shuts them close, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of soothing the pain. He wishes he could just sink to the floor and curl into a corner. 

Out of the blue, he’s hit with a poignant feeling of loneliness. It’s so sudden - one moment he’s fine and the next he feels it in his core, that awful, awful feeling. He’s sick but there’s no one to accompany him home, there’s no one he can text or call, there’s no one who cares enough. 

He manages though. He drags himself to the nearest pharmacy, buys paracetamol and swallows the tablet down while waiting for the next bus. He can take care of himself, just like how he always has. Seated on the bench he looks up, watching the afternoon sun filter through the deep, verdant green leaves, casting pale pools on the pavements. In Japanese, they have a word that specifically describes this. 

Komorebi (木漏れ日) means sunlight filtering through tree leaves, but it can also mean a melancholic longing for a person, place or thing that is far away from you. 

Jimin ponders; what is far away from him? His home, where his parents and beloved Mori are. His dream of Australia, quite literally continents away. Rain, the force of nature he takes comfort in resides high up in the clouds that drift across the sky. 

Love . Love feels distant and out of his reach. But can you long for something you never had? 

_____

“Oh? Jimin-oppa!” Jimin shivers with the sharp drop in temperature, closing the shop’s door behind him. Jinhee bounds over to him, ponytail swinging energetically. “How are you?” Jimin asks, ruffling her bangs. Jinhee yelps, swatting his hand away. “Don’t touch my hair! I spent so long straightening it this morning!” 

“Who are you trying to impress?” Jimin teases, nudging her shoulder. “Do you have a crush on someone here? Who is it? But you’re only in high school it’s illegal! Do I know them? Are they-”

“Just sit down!” Jinhee scolds, planting both hands on Jimin’s shoulders, using her entire body weight to push him to a table. She gives him his favourite spot - the table tucked in the left corner. 

“One jajangmyeon ?” she asks, giving him a knowing smile. Jimin laughs. “You know it.” The shop is a humble hole-in-wall located just right outside their campus, run by Jinhee’s grandparents, and Jimin is their treasured regular. As much as they adore having him around he loves being there, the cosy interior reminding him of home. 

A figure waddles out of the kitchen, balancing a teeming bowl of noodles. “ Halmeoni !” Jimin rushes to take it from her, tutting his tongue and shaking his head. “What are you doing out here? I could have taken it from you!” 

“Nonsense” Jinhee’s grandmother scolds, slapping his shoulder. Her fingers are crooked, wrinkles depicting her passage through time but they still contain a surprising amount of strength. “I can handle it myself!” 

“Sue me if I want to help a beauty” 

Halmeoni ’s wiry grey hair is pulled into a tight knot behind her head, and it shakes as she lets out a loud hearty laugh. “You are terrible!” 

“Anything to win your heart” Jimin grins. 

Thick rice noodles fill the bowl, slathered in hot black bean sauce, salty and aromatic. Jimin draws a huge mouthful with his metal chopsticks, eyes fluttering shut at the taste. He sighs - this is exactly what he needed. This week has been a shitshow, like a sitcom episode where everything goes wrong (minus the humour, punchline, or plot twist where a miraculous silver lining is found). Starting with Jungkook’s unwelcomed appearance on Monday, followed by the unpleasant encounter at 7-11 on Tuesday, and lastly - the trainwreck of a group meeting on Thursday. Today is Sunday and Jimin is more than ready to put this all behind him and press restart. 

The place has a decent crowd given that it’s a weekend night. Jimin retreats to his table, not wanting to disturb Jinhee and Halmeoni who’s bustling about the tight space, attending to hungry customers. 

He’s halfway through his meal, lost in his thoughts when a loud bang rings out, jolting him back to reality. He looks up to see the front door carelessly flung open, a boisterous group of students streaming in, rowdy with uncouth laughter and shrieks, jumping around as if there’s no one else in the room. Jimin scans their faces, nosy to see if it’s anyone he knows. 

It’s a fatal mistake. The way his heart plummets is sickeningly violent, a straight vertical drop with no warning. Jinseok’s beady eyes are on him, rousing with interest. 

Unlike the series of events that’s been occurring to him, this isn’t some chance encounter or unlucky coincidence. This was a deliberate plan. Jinseok knows this is Jimin’s favourite restaurant. Jimin talked about it frequently, and even tried to bring Jinseok here numerous times but Jinseok was never interested, claiming he doesn’t want to eat “street food”. 

Jimin’s suspicions are only confirmed when he hears Jinseok’s friend shout, “Jinseok! You said this place was good, what do you recommend?”

Jimin can’t hear Jinseok’s bullshit answer, ears ringing. His friends have started to notice him, sneaking indiscreet glances, whispering and pointing. Jimin’s mind goes wild with the possibilities of what they could be saying - pitiful. embarrassing. pathetic. 

Jinseok grabs a girl by her waist, tugging her down onto his lap. She squeals, going pink when he hooks his chin over her shoulder, pressing his lips to her ear. 

Jimin is shaking so hard, to the point he can’t even secure a proper hold on his chopsticks. The thin metal trembles in his hand, slipping out and falling on the table with a clang. It’s unfair, it’s so fucking unfair . How is it that Jinseok can be perfectly fine, laughing and flirting whereas Jimin thinks he might throw up?

Jimin wants to leave more than anything in the world but he doesn’t want to give Jinseok that victory. Hence he doesn’t move, glueing himself to the chair, finishing his noodles at an unhurried pace. His bold move only adds fuel to the fire and the gazes become more insistent, the remarks become louder, and Jinseok becomes crueler, hands roaming over the girl’s body with the sole intention of pressing on Jimin’s wound. 

The emotions simmer in him, bubbling dangerously at the surface but still - he’s got it under control, he can do this. He stands up, pays the bill, waves goodbye to Jinhee and heads for the door, chin held high. 

Jinseok’s table falls silent, turning their heads as Jimin walks past. Jimin grits his teeth, willing the heat in his face to go away. He’s so close to the door, just a few more steps and he’s-

“No baby you’re much better than my ex, did I ever tell you guys how awful he was at sucking dick? It was like he was going to bite it off” 

Jimin freezes. Jinseok’s friends burst out into laughter - horrible, mocking, rancid laughter. The humiliation is unbearable, it feels as though everyone is staring at him, hearing, knowing . 

The strings holding him together snap loose. Jimin surges out the front door, letting it slam behind him. He storms down the street, tears blurring his vision, reducing the world to a mangled smudge of colours. Fuck Jinseok, fuck him for stooping so fucking low . 

Jimin wants to make it home, but his feet turn and he finds himself darting to the nearest store, ducking to the side covered in shadows and collapsing against the glass. His lips wobble, and he only just manages to slap a hand over his eyes before a sob bursts from his throat, cracked and heartbroken. 

He doesn’t get it. Just what did he do so wrong to deserve this? Just what is so horrible about him that people feel the need to treat him like this? 

His heart is a solid rock in his chest. He’s already used to the feeling, but that doesn’t mean it makes it any easier to bear. 

“Jimin?” 

Dread fills Jimin, only intensifying when he twists his head to see who it is. Jungkook is squinting, trying to ascertain if he’s right. He steps closer, and Jimin instinctively backs away, flattening his spine against the wall. “Oh hey” he replies, more so croaks out, voice hoarse. He turns his cheek away from Jungkook, quickly wiping away his tears. “Do you need something?” 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, a deep frown marring his handsome face. Jimin wants to hide from his insistent gaze. “Yeah I’m fine” He adopts a curt tone, desperately wanting to end this conversation. “I’m fine it’s nothing you should go.”

Jimin fixes his eyes on the floor, silently waiting for Jungkook to leave. Jungkook walks towards him, but instead of continuing on his way he stops right in front of Jimin, turning on his last step so that they are standing face to face. 

“What happened?” he asks quietly. Jimin doesn’t know why his heart jumps as if a tiny part of him is relieved that Jungkook didn’t leave. “Nothing” he insists, shaking his head, conflicted between staying pressed against the wall or inching forward to Jungkook and his broad shoulders and the faint scent of peppermint tea that rolls off him in comforting waves. 

It’s nothing , Jimin insists, but the words come out as a blubber, and tears are welling up in his eyes all over again. It’s a universal experience really, you hold it all in but the second someone asks what’s wrong it’s like a catalyst and you just react.

“Just go” Jimin croaks out, burying his face into his hands. “This is embarrassing enough” 

There’s a beat of silence. Jimin fights to hold back his sob. He can still feel Jungkook standing there, hear him moving around, and then there’s a thick jacket being draped over his head, hiding him from any curious eyes. 

“Cry” Jungkook murmurs, “I won’t look” 

The grey fabric shrouds Jimin in darkness, enclosing him in his own little bubble. After being laid bare and brutally exposed to strangers, he finally has a place to hide, a place where he is alone and safe , and that’s what makes him let go, wailing unabashedly. 

Jungkook remains as a solid presence in front of him, hands tucked into his pockets as he stands there, using his body to shield Jimin from passer-by’s curious gazes. 

Jimin cries, not caring for how loud or ugly he sounds. He doesn’t know how much time passes, just cries and cries as hard as he can until his head grows heavy and his eyeballs get sapped dry, unable to produce any more tears. 

Slowly and eventually, his frenzied emotions subside. The tall angry waves finally collapse, washing up on shore in a quiet hum. He sucks in a deep breath, gathering himself together before he pulls the jacket off his head. 

The sudden onslaught of light pierces his eyes, and he has to blink rapidly for a minute in order to adjust. Slowly, his vision stabilizes, allowing everything to come into focus, including Jungkook who was previously just a blurry figure. He’s a lot closer than Jimin remembered, and the proximity has Jimin’s heart stuttering, tripping over the beat. 

“Feeling better?” Jungkook asks. Jimin nods and looks down, the embarrassment of his actions catching up to him. “I’m sorry” 

“Why are you saying sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong '' It isn’t empty words said out of courtesy. Jungkook’s face is perfectly serious, as if he’s stating a fact. 

Jimin’s cheeks grow unexpectedly warm at that and he wills himself to get a grip. “I got your jacket dirty” 

Jungkook looks down at his jacket, soiled with tears. “That I have to agree,” he says lightheartedly, and it pulls a small smile from Jimin. 

“I’m sorry” Jimin rushes to apologise again, “I’ll wash it and return it to you as soon as I can” 

Jungkook waves a hand. “Take your time. I have a bunch of other jackets anyways” 

Jimin nods, cradling the jacket close to his chest. “Okay…” he nibbles on his bottom lip, feeling awkward. “Thanks again. I should um-get going now” 

Jungkook looks at him. His dark eyes are piercing, holding a multitude of unsaid words. Jimin is curious as to what they are, but Jungkook just nods. “Sure. See you” He doesn’t linger around, turning on his heel and walking away. 

Jimin watches Jungkook’s retreating figure, the slight tremor of his frame when a gust of cold wind sweeps by, his short-sleeved shirt doing little to protect him. 

Jimin’s heart is a compass needle, swinging in rapid strokes, not knowing which direction to land. He’s confused. In the end he pulls out his earphones, plugging them into his phone and pressing play. He lets the music consume him, deciding it’s better to not think at all. 

_____

“Hypothetically - if we were to drop out right now, what’s the worst that could happen?” 

Jimin looks up from his computer, rubbing his stinging eyes. “Don’t tempt me right now” 

“I’m just saying,” Taehyung insists, leaning forward. “You don’t need a university degree to be successful.”

“That’s true” And for a split second Jimin considers it, but then he shakes his head. “But we already paid our dorm bills for the semester” 

Taehyung crumples, sagging in his chair. “Why” he whispers forlornly, “why do I need to study scientific inquiry ?” 

By the university’s guidelines, each student is required to take a module that contrasts their field of study in order to have a “ holistic, well-rounded learning experience ” Taehyung thinks it’s bullshit. Jimin, who was assigned a political science module, agrees. 

“Fighting” Jimin cheers, less than enthusiastically, pumping a weak fist in the air. Taehyung falls face flat on the table with a loud groan. 

The late afternoon sunlight is warm on their skin, bathing the entire concourse in a film of drowsiness. The students are steadily growing distracted, ignoring their assignments in favour of chatting with their friends, excitedly discussing plans of heading to a pojangmacha to unwind for the night. Jimin sneaks a discreet glance out of the corner of his eye, watching Jungkook who’s sitting at a table by himself, poring over pages and pages of reading. He takes a quiet sip of his americano, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Jimin first saw him when Taehyung and he were walking to their table. They had exchanged hellos, but that was it, neither bringing up what had happened last night. Jimin makes a mental note to text him about his jacket. 

“I give up” Taehyung announces, shooting up straight. “Let’s go eat dinner. I want beef” 

“Not yet” Jimin replies distractedly, typing away furiously. “I’m not done with this assignment” 

“Jimin-ahhh!” Taehyung whines, thrashing his shoulders around. “I’m starving !”

“Just wait-”

“What happened to you?” 

Jimin’s heart lurches in his chest like someone had just abruptly slammed the brakes. Taehyung looks up. “Jinseok! Can you tell Jimin to hurry up?” 

“Why?” Jinseok asks Taehyung, taking the seat next to Jimin. Their close proximity makes Jimin want to hurl. Jimin scoots away in pretense of taking a closer look at his computer screen. 

“I need to eat now I’m dying ” Taehyung complains, painfully oblivious to the tension swirling between Jimin and Jinseok. It’s not his fault though. Except for Jimin’s closest friends, no one else knows about Jinseok cheating. Jinseok had blackmailed Jimin with all his compromising pictures, pressuring him not to tell a soul. Everyone else, especially their mutual friends, think they broke up on mutual, amicable , terms. 

“Don’t rush Jimin, let him finish his work” Jinseok chides Taehyung. He turns to Jimin, gently stroking his hair. “Take your time okay?”

With Jinseok’s stellar acting, the lie is extremely convincing. Taehyung coos at Jinseok’s sweet gesture, “oooh what’s up with this atmosphere? Are you two getting back together?” 

Jinseok laughs, looking at Jimin. “I don’t know,” he ponders, disgustingly shameless, “Are we?” 

Fucking asshole. Jimin is so angry he can’t even think straight. The sheer audacity of Jinseok to even talk to him, let alone flirt after all that he’s done. The humiliating incident in the restaurant occurred just yesterday for Christ’s sake. He shoots to his feet, chair scraping against the floor with a loud screech. “I need to use the toilet” 

He marches off, eyes fixed on the toilet doors at the far end. He has a plan - he will lock himself in a cubicle until Jinseok leaves. That way, he won’t murder anyone. It’s a solid plan, but then he hears Jinseok calling out his name, asking him to wait up and he starts to panic. What if Jinseok follows him? 

His mind scrambles for an alternative plan. His gaze darts around, searching for something, anything -

He looks to his right. An idea pops into his mind. He knows damn well he’s going to regret this and yet his two feet surge forward and he’s plopping himself down at Jungkook’s table, startling the poor guy. 

“Hey?” Jungkook says, though it comes out more like a question. 

Jimin fiddles with his fingers, embarrassment crawling up his neck like a million tiny ants. He formulates a whimsical excuse. “I um-I washed your jacket already. It’s in my room. I can pass it to you. Are you free now?” 

“Oh,” Jungkook replies, nodding slowly. “Sorry but can we do tomorrow instead? I was planning to spend the night studying here” 

Jimin tries not to less his panic show. “Oh um...yeah sure! That’s uh-that’s fine…” 

There’s an awkward silence. Jungkook shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Um. Is there still something you need?” 

“About the jacket!” Jimin blurts out. He just needs to stall a little while longer. “I washed it but you might need to wash it again I mean there’s nothing wrong with my washing machine but I might be using a different detergent so if you’re sensitive to smell then-”

“Jimin” Jungkook interjects, cutting his ramble short. “Is something wrong?” 

Jimin’s mouth snaps shut, at a loss for words. At his silence Jungkook closes his laptop shut and sits up straight in his chair. His hand shifts closer, and Jimin is struck with the sudden urge to grab onto it and hold on tight. 

Instead he swallows tightly, looking down at his lap. “I’m sorry” he apologises, “I’m really sorry but can you just bear with me for a second? I’m trying to avoid someone.”

Jungkook looks back and forth between Jimin and his table where Taehyung and Jinseok are. “Who?”

Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair. “My ex” 

Jungkook grimaces. “Ended on bad terms I’m guessing?” 

Jimin was forced into secrecy, yet for some reason the words tumble right out. “He cheated on me” 

Jungkook’s face darkens. “That’s so fucked up,” he says quietly but his tone is harsh, full of contempt. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Jimin dismisses. He looks behind him, irritation flaring at the sight of Jinseok still sitting there. “I think what’s even more fucked up is that he still won’t leave me alone.”

Jungkook licks his lips, hesitating before he asks, “Is he the reason you were crying yesterday?” 

Jimin’s eyes go wide, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Jungkook’s expression is carefully blank, making it impossible to decipher his intentions. Jimin doesn’t know why he does it, why he opens up so easily when he struggles so much to do it with his closest friends and family but he nods. 

A flicker of anger crosses Jungkook’s face, but it’s gone as quick as it came, reverting back to a stoic expression. He holds up a finger, blatantly pointing at Jinseok. “Blue shirt. Is that your ex?”

“What are you doing?!” Jimin hisses, smacking his hand down. “But yes. That’s him. Why?” 

Jungkook is abruptly on his feet, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Wait here” 

“Huh?” Jimin splutters, bewildered as Jungkook marches off without any explanation. He follows his figure, realising in slow horror that he’s heading straight for Jinseok . 

Panicked, Jimin jumps to his feet, rushing over. When he reaches he sees Jungkook and Jinseok locked in a hostile glare while Taehyung sits at the side, parts confused and intrigued. 

“I said, what are you doing?” Jinseok demands, gripping Jungkook’s arm. Jungkook yanks his arm free, completely unfazed. “As anyone would be able to tell,” he replies wryly, “I’m packing Jimin’s things” 

“Jungkook what are you doing?” Jimin whispers anxiously, hovering by Jungkook’s side, glancing back and forth between him and Jinseok. Jungkook ignores his question, holding up a pen. “Is this yours?” 

“Uh yeah?” Jungkook drops the pen into his pencil case, zipping it up. Jinseok looks back and forth between the two of them, nostrils flaring. “Park Jimin” he barks out, making Jimin jump. “Who is this?” 

“I um..I-”

Jungkook picks up Jimin’s bag while sticking out his hand. “I’m Jeon Jungkook. Born on 1 September. Raised in Busan-”

“I wasn’t talking to you” Jinseok snaps, cutting him off. He rounds the table, surging towards Jimin. “Who is he? Is he your new boyfriend?” 

Jungkook quickly steps in front of Jimin, blocking Jinseok’s way. “I don’t think that’s any of your business” 

Taehyung lets out an audible gasp at that, hand clamped over his mouth. Jimin too can’t believe his ears, shocked that Jungkook would dare talk like that to a senior , especially one as high profile as Jinseok. This could put him on a permanent blacklist. “Jungkook” he whispers, urgently tugging at the hem of his shirt. “you should say sorry-”

“Let’s go,” Jungkook says, grabbing his wrist. Jimin isn’t given much of a choice, forced to follow as Jungkook drags him along. He struggles to keep up with Jungkook’s long strides, stumbling on his feet, nearly colliding with the latter’s back a couple of times.

Jungkook drags Jimin along until they are out of the building, safely out of Jinseok’s sight. He spins around, letting Jimin go. “Are you okay?” 

Jimin holds his wrist, chasing the ghost of Jungkook’s touch. “You keep asking me that” 

“You keep giving me a reason to” 

Jimin bites his bottom lip, dragging his shoe against the gravel on the ground. “It’s not my fault…” he mutters. Jungkook looks at him, agitated. “What’s wrong with you?” 

That’s a loaded question. “Excuse me?” 

“Your ex is obviously a dick. He cheated on you and treats you like shit. Why don’t you say anything? Why do you give in to him as if you’re the one in the wrong? The Jimin I remembered would have kicked his ass”

His words feel like a punch to the gut because Jimin knows exactly what he means. He’s talking about 15 year old Jimin who was bold and confident, quick to snap a scathing remark to anyone who dared do him wrong. That Jimin had been assured of himself, that Jimin had walked around with his chin held high. 

But somewhere along the years, in the convoluted twist of events and mistakes, in the face of an unkind world, he had lost that version of himself. 

“It’s been years. People change.” 

Jungkook’s face twists. Jimin recognises his mannerisms, knows that tongue poking in his cheek means he’s not done talking, revving up to argue. Jimin doesn’t like this conversation, sure as hell doesn’t want to have it, which is why he swiftly cuts in before Jungkook can get a word out. “Anyways, thanks for helping me again. I’ll buy you a meal. What do you want? Meat? Pasta?”

Jungkook stares at him before looking away with a sigh. “Forget that. Let’s go get my jacket” 

Jimin’s brain lags, taking a moment to understand. “Oh!” he exclaims, “yeah sure, of course. I’m at Hall 5. It’s just around the corner.”

“Welcome to my humble abode” Jimin announces, opening the door to his dorm room, a tight space that has his knees knocking into his table when he rolls out of bed. “Try not to get lost” 

Jungkook snorts, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he looks around, taking in the personal touches Jimin has added to the room. A row of succulents sits by the windowsill, various hues of seafoam, thick leaves spiralling to resemble a flower. The wall next to his bed is plastered with music posters and magazine graphics, carefully selected to fit a navy blue colour scheme. A row of Murukami books sit on his shelf, arranged according to chronological order. 

“Nice place” 

“I try” Jimin opens the wooden doors of his cupboard, pulling out Jungkook’s freshly washed jacket. “Here” 

Jungkook takes it, holding it up to his nose to take a sniff. “Woah, what detergent is this?” 

“It’s nice right?” Jimin grins, pleased with himself. “It’s Downy Bliss Scent” 

“Luxurious” Jungkook remarks. Without warning he dips forward, fitting his head in the crook of Jimin’s neck and inhaling. 

His breath ghosts over Jimin’s skin, hot. Jimin jerks back, flustered. “What are you doing?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I just wanted to see how strong the scent is” 

“What are you, a dog?” 

“I help you and this is how you treat me?” 

Jungkook’s words don’t carry any weight but Jimin still feels bad - he definitely owes Jungkook something for all his help. “Seriously though,” he says, plopping down on his bed. “I feel bad. Let me at least buy you a coffee” 

Jungkook stands across from him, leaning back against his table. “Can I request a different favour instead?” 

“Of course! What is it?” Jimin answers without hesitation. 

“Could you help me with the assignment? I kind of have no idea what I’m reading” 

The request is unexpected, taking Jimin aback. “Wait,” he says, holding a hand in the air, “you mean you actually didn’t know how to do it? Not because you were busy with the tournament?” 

“I am busy with the tournament. '' Jungkook corrects, “but I did try my best to do the homework. But I have no idea how to answer the questions” 

Jimin’s mouth falls right open.“What?! Why didn’t you say anything that day?” 

Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “You seem pretty pissed. I thought you might mistake it for an excuse” 

The guilt Jimin was feeling only compounds. “About that….” he says softly, gnawing on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rude…”

There is a beat of silence, and then to Jimin’s surprise, Jungkook takes a seat next to him, the mattress sinking under his weight. “It’s okay” he replies, leaning back on his elbows. “We were being dicks” 

“No you guys weren’t…” Jimin protests weakly but Jungkook shakes his head. “We were being irresponsible and I was being unfair to you. I’m sorry, I guess I was just feeling a little sore”

“Sore?” Jimin repeats, confused. “From what?” 

Jungkook picks at the threads of his blanket. “I mean” he murmurs, “you kind of ditched me halfway through dinner that night”

Jimin’s eyebrows inadvertently fly up, doing a poor job of concealing his surprise. Jungkook was... upset about that? “I didn’t ditch you. I told you, my friend needed help” Jimin insists, but even to himself he doesn’t sound convincing. 

It’s clear that Jungkook doesn’t buy it either, gaze laced with doubt, but he nods anyway. “Right. My bad” 

“When’s the basketball tournament again?” Jimin asks, actively switching the topic. “Next month” Jungkook replies, “8 July is the first match” 

“How’s training going?” Jimin has played his fair share of sports. He knows how crazy and intense the training can get in lieu of a competition. 

As anticipated Jungkook responds with a groan, flopping back until he’s lying flat on Jimin’s bed. His shirt rides up, revealing a strip of his toned torso, tanned skin stretched tight over lean muscle. Jimin gulps. Their training must be really intense. 

“Jesus Christ it’s the worst . We have training 4 times a week. It’s like my entire life is just basketball I’m so sick of it” 

“Easy there Troy Bolton ” 

Jungkook immediately understood his reference. “ Everybody’s always talking at me, everybody’s tryin to get in my head ” he croons, eyes shut in passion. Jimin slaps a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle his string of giggles. 

““ I wanna listen to my own heart talkin ” Jungkook belts, wildly off key and it has Jimin doubling over, clutching his knees. “ I need to count on myself instead ” 

Jungkook balls his hand into a fist, mimicking a microphone and thrusts it in front of Jimin’s face, waiting expectantly but all Jimin says is - “I’m going to get a noise complaint” 

“You’re supposed to finish the line!” Jungkook insists, sitting back up. 

Jimin rolls his eyes, pushing his hand away. “Or how about - we talk about the assignment instead? I’ll help you with it” 

“Really?” Jungkook checks, breathing a sigh of relief when Jimin nods. “Cool. Great . To be honest I was wholeheartedly ready to fail this module” 

“Philosophy may seem hard at first, but it’s pretty fun once you get the hang of it” 

Jungkook snorts. “Fun? Yeah maybe only for you since you’re smart” 

“I’m not smart” Jimin rushes to disagree, shaking his head. 

“Yeah you are” Jungkook insists, “you were literally in the top scorer’s list for CSAT”

Jimin’s breath hitches. “How did you know?” he asks in a small voice. They weren’t on talking terms at that time. 

“I saw your name on the list” 

There were hundreds of names on that list. Jimin doesn’t know if Jungkook had just been curious as sifted through them all, or if he had approached the board where it was pinned with intention, Jimin’s name at the front of his mind. 

“I’m late but” Jungkook looks at him, a smile playing on his lips. “congratulations” 

Jungkook is looking him straight in the eye and Jimin, for a second, forgets how to breathe. He doesn’t know why Jungkook always does this, always insists on this intimate eye contact that makes him squirm. They aren’t even touching, yet the heat from Jungkook’s body feels tangible on his skin, an odd sensation that has him flustered. 

“Thanks” he manages to squeak out, dropping his gaze. He fiddles with his phone, hoping the light from his screen covers how red his face has gotten. “When are you free to do the assignment?” 

Jungkook checks his calendar. “How about Thursday? I finish my lessons at 3” 

“Can we do 5? I have a lecture until 4” 

They come to an arrangement - 5pm on Thursdays at the Starbucks located between their dormitory buildings. Jimin sends Jungkook off with a wave, and his stomach flip flops strangely when Jungkook shrugs on the jacket, the jacket that now smells like him , pulling it around his body tight. 

When the door closes shut, Jimin lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding. His heart is hiccuping - short, staccato spasms that won’t seem to calm down. His eyes dart to the mirror on his wall, and he finds his reflection glowing, eyes glittering with a giddy rush. 

It’s a nice look on him - he hasn’t looked like that in a long while - but despite its allure it presents an imminent danger. He gets the jarring reminder that this is the exact same look Minji had the first time she talked to Jungkook. That sends the pretty smile on his face vanishing in an instant.

The dark moths are back. Yet this time Jimin isn’t so quick to heed their warning, reluctant. He doesn’t want to hate Jungkook. He likes spending time with him. Besides, he already agreed to help him with his assignment. It would be irresponsible to ditch him out of the blue. 

The slope down to Jungkook is precarious and slippery, but Jimin convinces himself that he can manage. Friends . He can do that, they can do that, they were so good at it. 

He will just tread down this path carefully. Slow and sedulous, check the ground with every step. That way he won’t fall.  

_____

“Sorry I’m late” Jungkook pants, squeezing into the chair wedged between the table and wall. “I missed the bus” 

“Where am I? Who am I? I’ve been waiting here for so long I don’t know anything anymore” 

“I’m only 10 minutes late! And from your text, you weren’t on time either” 

Jimin shoots him an impish grin. “Latest person has to buy coffee” 

Jungkook’s mouth falls open. “I never agreed to that!” 

“Did you not read the fine print in our contract? I help you with this assignment and you do everything I ask” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in indignance while Jimin bats his eyelashes innocently. “I’ll have an iced americano thank you !” 

Jungkook reluctantly concedes, standing up with a huff. “You are a menace,” he says, pointing his wallet at Jimin accusingly. 

He leaves and returns shortly with two iced americanos. Jimin claps his hands in delight, tearing open the wrapper of his straw. 

Jungkook on the other hand is grumbling, ranting about this appalling injustice. “This is exploitation, it's abuse, it’s…” 

Jimin snags a napkin, with the plan to throw it at Jungkook’s face in hopes of shutting him up but he stops when he notices the row of numbers scrawled at the side of Jungkook’s cup, a small heart added at the end in a flourish. 

His chest tightens. He slouches back in his chair, schooling his features into an indifferent expression. “Someone’s popular” 

Jungkook, confused, looks down to where Jimin is pointing. He smiles, but he doesn’t even look surprised, as if this happens to him every other day. It probably does. Jimin didn’t notice, but now when he looks around again he catches the enamoured stares thrown in Jungkook’s direction. 

Jungkook turns around to look at the only person in the cafe who was bold enough to make a move. The barista is giving him a coquettish smile, biting his lip as he works the espresso machine. He’s attractive - slender frame, delicate almond-shaped eyes, straight blonde hair styled perfectly in the trendy ‘comma style’. 

Jimin tugs his beanie down, suddenly self-conscious of his frizzy curls. 

“What do you think?” 

“Huh?” 

“What do you think?” Jungkook repeats, “Do you think he’s cute? Should I text him?” 

Green envy shows its ugly face, making Jimin’s face twist but he quickly catches himself, reminding himself that he should not be feeling that way. He swallows back his “ no ” and shrugs. “That’s your choice” 

Jungkook doesn’t inform him of his final decision, bringing the conversation topic to their assignment. It doesn’t settle well with Jimin, who, despite everything, is still itching to know. 

He tamps down his curiosity, channelling his energy into attempting to dissect different moral concepts with Jungkook who responds to all his questions with a blank stare. 

An hour slips by. Jimin is midway through an example when he hears someone call out his name. The voice is so gentle, a sweet dulcet tone so special it could only belong to one person. He whips his head around, heart pounding. “Jongin?” 

“I thought it was you!” Jongin exclaims, lips curved into a full-blown grin, perfect white teeth on display. “It’s been so long! How are you?” 

Jongin is donned in a thick black sweater that hangs over his fitted jeans, ash brown waves tucked underneath a baseball cap. He’s broader than Jimin remembered, the expanse of his chest and shoulders now an impressive width, biceps stretching out his sleeves. 

He looks good. Jimin feels a little short of breath - it must be the residue of his past feelings, activated like a chemical reaction. “I’m good! What about you? Are you still at Coffee Nap ?” 

“Yeah I’m still working there! You should come visit, Minyoung-noona keeps asking me about you” 

Jimin can’t help but smile, basking in the fond memories of working at the quaint cafe, extracting shots of espresso while listening to the one playlist Minyoung would play every single day, a compilation of classics she insisted they must know by heart.  

The cafe was tucked between rows of old mechanic shops along a secluded street, which meant only a small group of customers each day, made up of locals who lived in the neighbourhood or Minyoung’s friends. For most parts of Jimin’s job he was idling by the counter, helping Minyoung decorate their homemade cakes. She handed him full control of the reins, allowing him to design it however he wanted. “I don’t have any experience ” Jimin had stuttered nervously when she set down a three-layered earl grey cake in front of him, lavender petals in a small tin tray by the side. She had promptly dismissed his worries with an uninterested wave. “ It’s not supposed to look perfect. It’s a homemade cake. Just try your best. ” 

Although, there had been one part of his job that he struggled long and hard with. Latte Art . There was too much room for error - the milk is too thick, the milk is too thin, there’s too much foam, he didn't tilt his cup right, he didn’t pour high enough. It was embarrassing having to redo cups over and over again because he couldn’t get it right, further agitating disgruntled customers who were getting tired of waiting. 

Then Jongin joined them with 2 years of barista experience under his belt. He would teach Jimin during their pockets of spare time, gently holding his hands to guide him, murmuring praises as warm as the steam that rose from the cup. 

Jimin had developed quite a crush on him back then, purposefully signing up for the same shifts as him, using any excuse to stick close, initiating flirty touches whenever he could. But one day Jongin had left their shift 15 minutes earlier, rushing out of the cafe in a haste. When Jimin had asked Minyoung about it, she gave him a gleeful grin. 

“ He has a date ” 

A week later Jongin brought his boyfriend in, a boy with a strong jeju dialect and the prettiest pair of eyes Jimin has ever seen. Jimin remembers how he had lost focus of the milk foam he was pouring, causing a huge dollop to spill out and land splat. Hot espresso had flown out of the cup, smearing his uniform with watery brown streaks. Despite a copious amount of hot water and the strongest detergent on the market, he wasn’t able to get rid of the stains. 

A hard nudge to his knee jolts him back to reality. Jimin blinks and looks at Jungkook, the perpetrator. Jungkook gestures to Jongin with a jerk of his chin, the latter who’s still standing there, looking a little lost. 

“I’m sorry! I zoned out for a second” Jimin apologises, face hot with embarrassment. “You were saying?” 

“You had me worried there for a second” Jongin teases, slipping back into an easy grin. “I was saying you should come visit sometime” 

“Of course! Yeah, of course I will. How’s Minyoung-noona?” 

They chat for a while, exchanging updates about the cafe and their lives. Jongin is currently studying music at the performing university across town, and just last week he celebrated his one year anniversary with his boyfriend. Jimin is happy for them, truly, even though he feels a small pang of envy. Not at Jongin’s boyfriend though, more so at their relationship, their healthy, stable, committed relationship. Jongin leaves after their conversation dwindles to an end, promising to reserve a slice of the cafe’s butterscotch red date cake, Jimin’s personal favourite, when he comes to visit this weekend. 

Jimin’s eyes follow Jongin until he’s completely out of his line of sight. Turning back, he’s met with Jungkook’s scrutinizing gaze. “What?” he asks, feeling oddly defensive. 

Jungkook leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Who was that?” 

“An old friend,” Jimin says slowly, “we used to work together.” 

“You started blushing when you saw him” There's a smirk on Jungkook’s face, small but triumphant, delighted to have something to tease Jimin about. 

“I-I was not!” Jimin stammers, falling right into his trap. 

“Is he your crush?” 

“No!” Jimin cries out, at a volume much louder than he had intended. He covers his mouth in shame when the people at the next table look over. Leaning across the table, he drops his voice in a hushed whisper. “Are you crazy ? And keep your voice down you idiot”  

Jungkook mimics him, leaning forward as well. “Don’t try to deny it, you were giggling non-stop” 

“That’s just how I talk!” 

“You’re not like that with me” 

“Yeah because you’re annoying ” 

“Says the one trying to avoid my question” 

Discussing your ex-crush with another one of your ex-crushes is definitely weird but Jungkook is relentless, backing him into a corner with nowhere to go. “Fine” Jimin grits out, “I used to have a crush on him but not anymore okay? Are you satisfied now?” 

But his confession only serves to fuel Jungkook’s burning curiosity. “Really? When? For how long? Did anything happen? Did you two date?” 

“ No , I never told him” Jimin hisses, “Can we drop this now?” 

“Why not?” Jungkook presses. 

“Why not what?” 

“Why didn’t you tell him?” 

His question is spouted out in a manner that reminds Jimin a lot of his own self - impulsive and unthinking. Jungkook doesn’t seem to recognise his mistake though, head tilted to the right, waiting for an answer. 

However, perhaps in Jungkook’s eyes, it’s not a mistake. It’s fine for him to approach the issue simply because in his perspective - it’s not a big deal . While Jimin is sitting here frozen, a lump growing steadily in his throat, Jungkook is perfectly composed, eyes unblinking. 

What happened between them was a stone in Jimin’s river, a loud splash that caused ripples to cascade on for miles but what if for Jungkook the stone had merely skimmed the surface, making the water shake for a moment and the next second, gone?

The possibility of finding out that he was insignificant to Jungkook is scary, but Jimin wants- has to know. 

“Well,” Jimin answers, forcing a light hearted laugh. “I don’t exactly have the best experience when it comes to confessing right?” 

The wheel spins, car screeching as it makes a sharp u-turn. The temperature between them plunges down several degrees, bitingly cold. Jungkook has grown as stiff as a rod, face contorted in a distressing mix of uncomfortable and apologetic. 

Conclusion - loud splash for both of them. Now Jimin just wishes he had taken an alternative approach to finding out this answer. 

The silence between them is deafening. Jimin could do many things with a time machine, but the first thing on his list would be to rewind back to a minute ago and keep his stupid mouth shut. 

He clears his throat, unable to bear the tension. “I was just kidding!” he exclaims, trying to go for lively but the inflection and pitch sounds horribly forced. He soldiers on anyway. “Lighten up, I’m over it already.” 

It’s a lie - a lie so false it’s laughable. Jungkook still haunts him to this day, appearing like a ghost in his weakest moments. But he doesn’t need to know that, no one needs to know that. 

“Ahh” Jungkook replies, managing a smile though it looks more like a grimace. “That’s...That’s good to hear.” 

There’s another beat of silence before Jimin claps his hands. “Now quit slacking around” he chides, shifting his chair, slurping on his coffee, clacking his fingers across his keyboard. He’s being loud, too loud, and despite the dirty stares he continues to create noise, hoping to lose all tension in the chaos. 

It works. It takes a while though. They had fallen out of sync, which gave way to errors such as accidentally interrupting each other or not catching what the other had said. But time and Jimin’s best efforts go hand in hand, working tirelessly to adjust and tweak everything back to its original state. Soon the two of them slip back into their easy banter, friction long forgotten. 

Everything has been swept under the rug and Jimin will stomp his feet and pin it down with his whole weight to keep it that way. 

_____

The thin wiry handle is growing damp in his palm. Jimin transfers the paper bag to his other hand, wiping the sweaty palm on the back of his trousers. He scans his surroundings, breath coming out short and irregular - Jungkook should be here any minute now . 

His heart is an uncomfortable buzz in his chest, beating so hard and quick it’s near unbearable. Jimin dithers between staying or giving into the impulse to call this whole thing off and run away. He plants his feet firmly to the ground, forcing himself to remain put. 

Because truth be told, he’s optimistic, confident even. He thinks back to Jihoon teasing him about Jungkook, “It’s so obvious that there’s something going on between the two of you!” It’s not just Jihoon, he’s heard similar lines from countless other friends. They all share the same sentiment - “I think Jungkook likes you” The corners of Jimin’s lips quirk up and he has to bite down hard in order to control it. 

Jimin denies it each time, loud protests and insistent shakes of his head, begging to switch the topic but it’s all just for show. Secretly he loves it, always subtly mentioning Jungkook in a conversation just to hear his friends talk about it. 

He himself sees it too - from the times he’s caught Jungkook staring at him in class, to the way Jungkook never leaves his side, pulling all sorts of antics to get his attention. Jimin figured that he has liked Jungkook for a while now. Falling is a gradual process, but realising is one distinct defining moment. 

Jimin had been idling in 7-11 alone, waiting for class to start. He was staring listlessly out the long glass panes, watching the cars glide by when someone walks past, stride brisk but unhurried. Jimin straightens up, drinking in Jungkook’s side profile - sharp nose and defined jaw. 

He could easily tap on the glass and catch Jungkook’s attention but all of a sudden he’s feeling too shy. That’s his friend right there and yet he stands rooted to the spot, simply staring. 

“Jimin” Jungkook calls out from a distance, approaching quickly given his long legs. In a split second Jimin is reduced to a bundle of nerves, vibrating with anxiety. He swallows for his throat that has gone dry, hands flying to quickly adjust his collar.

“What’s with all the suspense?” Jungkook says teasingly, carding a hand through his dark hair that has been mussed up by the breeze. “What do you need to tell me?” They are at the park beside their academy, standing amid neatly trimmed bushes and tiny white daffodils that peek out from above. It’s 7 p.m. However, the sky is devoid of its usual vivid blend of sunset colours, a mundane greyish blue instead. 

Jungkook’s presence itself is a force, robbing Jimin’s breath and weakening his knees. His mind goes blank, unable to recall the speech he spent nights creating, chucking wads of crushed paper into his dustbin till it overflowed. With a painful lack of delicacy he thrusts his hands out, shoving the paper bag into Jungkook’s chest. “H-Here” 

Jungkook accepts it with raised eyebrows, blinking rapidly. “What is this?” he asks, and Jimin’s heart only hammers even harder as he peers into the contents of the bag. “A gift? But it’s not my birthday yet” 

“It’s not for your birthday…” Jimin trails off, too wound up in anticipation to formulate a sentence. 

Jungkook’s head is tucked down as he sifts through the bag, making it impossible to read his expressions. Jimin can only fervently pray and hope that he likes it. Nestled between the shreds of decorative paper are Jungkook’s favourite snacks, a frame containing a photograph of the two of them and two bracelets, encased in a glass box. Jimin had them custom made, forking out his pocket money to have today’s date engraved on the band. 

“Jimin…” Jungkook says carefully, looking up. “Uh...what’s all of this?” 

It’s time. Jimin licks his lips, straightening his back as he does so. His grandmother always told him he looks so much more handsome when he doesn’t slouch. “Jungkook I..” he stutters despite his best efforts not to, cheeks growing scorching hot. “I like you...I have for a while now” 

He keeps his head down, too scared to watch Jungkook’s reaction. He waits, with an aching desire that consumes him whole, waits for Jungkook’s response but he’s met with nothing but dead silence and the longer it stretches on the deeper his heart plunges, right into the black hole of acute dread. 

But then, Jungkook is reaching forward, gently holding his hand. Jimin’s head snaps up, inhaling sharply as hope surges through him like an adrenaline shot. 

Jungkook is staring at him with that same intense gaze of his. He guides Jimin’s hand forward, towards him-

-and onto the paper bag. 

“Listen…” Jungkook says, dragging his words, fighting to get them out. “This was really nice and I really appreciate it but…” 

He doesn’t even have to say anything. From the way he pushes the paper bag back into Jimin’s hands, the message is crystal clear. 

“I’m sorry…” Jungkook trails off, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. His words are empty, lacking any real sincerity. At that moment Jimin is reminded of those scenes in dramas where a nameless side character is shown confessing to the lead to illustrate how popular he is. He realises, with a sickening twist of his gut - that’s him right now. 

And maybe the mortifying part of it was that he thought he was a lead too. He thought he was important to Jungkook, that he meant something to him. 

Yet now, from the way Jungkook is sighing, squinting up at the sky, he realises that he’s nothing, just an annoying inconvenience that’s in his way. 

“It’s fine” he replies, recoiling many steps back, voice cracking on each syllabus. “It’s fine. I’m sorry this was stupid.” 

Jungkook doesn’t correct him, giving a silent confirmation of his words. Stupid stupid stupid. How stupid of Jimin. What an idiot.

“Sorry” Jimin apologises again, “I’m really sorry” He feels it, the telltale sting in his nose, and he’s only given 2 seconds to prepare before the tears come, spilling out of his eyes and running down his cheeks. 

He turns on his heel, hurrying away. He doesn’t want Jungkook to see him cry. He’s already pathetic enough in his eyes. 

Pathetic pathetic pathetic. What a loser.  

He sees Jungkook in the hallway the next day. He stares at Jungkook, lips poised to pull into a small smile, desperate to make things okay between them but Jungkook keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead, walking past him without the slightest falter in his steps like it wasn’t a hard thing to do at all. 

A week later rumours are swirling around, spreading from classroom to classroom like wildfire. “Did you know? Jungkook and Kyunghee are dating!” Jimin wouldn’t know, Jungkook had blocked him across all his social media accounts. 

But one day, he sees it for himself - first hand up close. He’s walking alone back to class and there on his far right was the two of them, standing in front of the vending machine. Their shoulders are pressed against each other, fingertips brushing. Kyunghee isn’t even saying anything, too engrossed in choosing a drink but Jungkook can’t take his eyes off her. 

That’s what Kyunghee is - effortless. Kyunghee doesn’t need to wake up early in the morning to tirelessly work her frizzy hair through a flat iron, Kyunghee doesn’t need to cake on layers of concealer to hide acne scars and red spots, Kyunghee doesn’t need to talk and laugh obnoxiously loudly to get Jungkook to look at her. 

Kyunghee has Jungkook wrapped around her finger without even lifting it while Jimin’s gifts lay crushed among garbage, soiled with watery mud and burnt cigarettes. That day, as he slammed the paper bag into the dustbin, hot tears streaming down his face, he threw a piece of himself in there as well, a piece he thinks - he’ll never get back. 

Jungkook is his first love, but he’s also the first person to teach Jimin that he’s not good enough;

and that he’ll never be.