Stuck in my head

😫4

"perhaps i heard you saying that you miss me.." taehyung askes me it a flirty way

"I don't remember that at all," i lie like a liar, saying the words as the picture of i snarkily spitting them at Taehyung at the end of your freshman year plays in your brain on repeat.

"You sure about that, dahyun?" Taehyung says, turning to look you up and down. He's always been such a people reader, and you've always felt so helplessly transparent in front of him. Even back then. Even now. "Because I don't really think that your memory is that bad."

"Nope, no, I don't," i say quickly, trying to get Taehyung to stop eyeing you like you're a question on an exam that he thinks is suspiciously easy.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter then, does it?" Taehyung muses as you round the street corner and his apartment complex comes into view. "Since we'll be living together, anyway."

"Miss you? Please. Nothing makes me happier than the fact that I don't have to live next to you anymore."

Before I can wheel my cart down the hallway and kiss my freshman year goodbye, Taehyung opens his mouth and says one more thing. i almost don't hear him, too busy reminding yourself that you'll never have to see him again, but then he says, "One day, dahyun, you're going to realize that we're closer than you think."

i just look at him dumbfounded , "eh"

When i walk into Taehyung's apartment, my eyes zero in on these three things: the navy blue futon pushed up against the wall by his television and the fact that it doesn't look like the kind of used furniture from off of the street that most college kids typically resort to, the little wooden kitchen table that looks straight out of a family-owned Italian restaurant (looks like the two of you will be eating dinner together), and the paintings on the walls.

"Did you paint these?" Is the first thing you ask once you're inside, putting my suitcase up against the wall as Taehyung takes off his coat.

"Those? Yeah, I did them early last year. My walls looked so damn plain without anything on them."

In freshman year, Taehyung seemed like the kind of artsy hipster who shopped at Urban Outfitters and put vinyl records on his wall with Command Strips but never actually listened to them.

But the pieces on his walls aren't vinyls of bands like Arctic Monkeys and Modern Baseball. They're paintings, oil and acrylics and even a bit of charcoal. Still life and portraits and shadows.

I had never seen one of his paintings before. i never imagined you'd ever want to, or even get the chance to. And now, you're standing in the middle of his apartment, and you're surrounded by them.

"They're..." i trail off, eyes bouncing from wall to wall as you take all of them in. There's at least ten, one, if not two on each wall in sight. His bedroom is probably filled with them. His apartment's not enormous, rather small since it's only got one bedroom, but the paintings make the whole place bigger. Make it feel full of life.

"They're alright," Taehyung finishes. He's already grabbing extra blankets from the storage closet in the side of the wall. "They were assignments we had during the semester so I figured that they'd be put to good use on my wall."

"It's very impressive," I admit. "Kind of a flex, but an impressive flex." There is something so perfectly Taehyung about the fact that he's got art all over his walls, but they're his very own pieces that he has framed and hanging, on display for the entire world to see if they'd like.

"They'd collect dust otherwise," he says with a shrug. He tosses two blankets and a pillow my way, letting them plop onto the futon. "Are those enough blankets? It can get fucking cold in here, so I don't want you to freeze to death or anything."

And for a moment, i think that Taehyung has actually outgrown his asshole-y freshman days, maturing into someone with an actual moral backbone.

"How considerate," i say sarcastically, "but I think I'll be alright. I'm a big, strong girl."

"Just don't come crawling into my bed if you want a taste of that weighted-blanket life," Taehyung says, pretending to flip his hair. "Though, I wouldn't blame you if you did want to sleep with me."

With a pillow right at your disposal, i waste no time grabbing it and chucking it straight at Taehyung's face. He easily dodges, having spotted the move from a mile away, and chuckles.

"Come on, dahyun, you can do better than that," he says disapprovingly, shaking his head as he makes his way to the kitchen. "Your arm was much stronger back in freshman year."

Scowling, i watch as he puts on the kettle to boil, letting the water begin to bubble as he goes about his business like he doesn't have a guest in his living room that absolutely can't stand him.

And i realize that maybe Taehyung's a couple of years older, a couple of years wiser, but that doesn't make him a couple of years any less unbearable.