Jungkook's P.O.V
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-FRIDAY MORNING-
Is it my birthday again?Or is it like- April fools in the fall?
Christmas?
I've been up thinking to myself for hours since I haven't even moved to take shower- this has to be one of my crazily realistic fantasies.
Because there is no way yesterday did this much...
It was the absolute best way to wake up. Not a single person- or talking animal if they exist somewhere- could tell me that staring at Park Jimin, hair wild and messy, face angelic and clear, skin smooth and pale, would make you want to close your eyes and fall back to sleep. Even while he wasn't awake or cutely demanding me around like I'm his loyal subject, he still held my heart in the palm of his hands like a glass vase filled with water, so easily he could drop it, letting it break on ground without a care, but he at looked me- through me- like I was crystal clear. He sat me down on a sturdy surface, giving me flowers and cleaning me up.He was in control everything I did these days.
Jimin was always in control of my feelings; the moment he felt sorrow I could never smile until he was able to. I couldn't press my foot on the pedal unless he allowed me to. For these few weeks I swear my brain had been swindling about him. Every aspect I wanted to learn- I couldn't just glance or laugh it off like I did with others. I wanted the satisfying feeling of understanding him; the person I dream and talk about, the person I write letters to, and make my hand writing look as if it's been printed on paper just so he could read it.
The person I couldn't keep my eyes off of since I took off my shoes at the door.
And now he was here, plain faced with slumber as morning was arising. It took me a while to finally come to the conclusion that I was awake before him on a Friday morning without any rush or stress forming in the atmosphere of making it to work on time. He woke up at an early eight o'clock hour just head into work and drive his way back with a frown and seal himself up in his room, only to dragged out by pasta skills or movies that he'd quietly watch with me on the couch, no touching, no talking, no accidently catching each other's eye, just pure silence.
But I was here now; my hands could reach and stretch as far and wide as I could to cradle him in my arms and whisper the sweet words into his ear. It had a wonderful effect even on me, knowing that he was bursting with joy and spirit only spurred me on during the day, lifting me up out of my own small trenches that are swamped with regrets.
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