❛ The normals cry, the crazies laugh. ❜
━
Five years ago, when Do Haru was nineteen years old, she witnessed a brutal murder in the forest near her grandmother's house. The killer was never caught, and Haru couldn't help the police since the assassi...
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Lines like many many tiny scars...
───── ❝ do haru ❞ ─────
Wednesday, 25th of January, 2022
The day had gone by typically. It was just another lonely Wednesday. Haru, Yoongi and Jimin shared only one class that day: art.
The dearth of will to be around people and finding herself anywhere but home haunted Haru from time to time. Being unable to control her negative thoughts and just having to cover them up with a smile was no fun, but what else could the girl do? Tell everyone she had a disorder? That sometimes she ran off to the bathroom because she was triggered by"trivial" things?
She was feeling like that, on this Wednesday of January, she really wasn't feeling any relief whenever a class came to an end like she usually did. But then came art; something that she had been anticipating all day long. Like a high school girl waiting for the prom night.
She brushed her thoughts aside and took a seat in the art classroom. Yes, classroom—not lesson hall. Because people had a choice between art and other subjects, the classes were way smaller. Art was a "minor" subject so a lecture hall was unnecessary.
Jimin who was returning from his Latin Language class, soon came into Haru's sight, making her heart's speed accelerate. Yoongi sent her a wink, tee-heeing fondly as she cringed. What she didn't notice though, was the slight glint of sadness enshrouded somewhere deep in his dark orbs. A glint that was buried so deep, even Yoongi himself was oblivious of its existence.
'Jimin! Jimin!' Haru called the blonde-haired guy who cluelessly stepped into the semi-empty art classroom. He turned his head towards the caller of his name, beaming instantly at the dainty sight of Haru waving her hand at him. Sometimes he wondered how could a girl that wore only black clothes and bad-ass boots be that cute.
But oh well...
She patted the empty seat beside her and said, 'Can you sit with me today?'
A hint of hope and nervousness lingered in her eyes, and Jimin couldn't help but snicker at how obvious she was being. Wordlessly, he approached her and sat down. 'God, sometimes I just want to squish your cheeks.' Jimin giggled, burying his forehead into the palm of his hand which was drowning in his white, oversized hoodie.
One thing that Haru had taken note of was that Jimin often wore white, oversized hoodies. If not that, then his outfit would have at least one white item. It might have sounded like a silly observation, but she was sure it was accurate.
Maybe it was just his favourite colour...
'Don't say that!' Haru squeaked, punching Jimin's shoulder gently. 'By the way, I noticed you always have at least one white item on you every day. I hope it doesn't sound weird, but do you do it on purpose or just because you like white a lot?' she inquired, looking down in embarrassment after admitting to having paid attention to such details about him.
