Ch 1 - Library

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Jimin's favorite study spot is the campus café.

There, students mill around. Chatting, sipping sugary fraps and mochas, crowded on sofas, slouched over tables. The traffic is high any time of the week, any time of day. And Jimin Loves It. He loves meeting up with friends, talking over the tops of laptops and stealing sips of coffee. The constant buzz and chatter acts as comforting white noise. He's familiar with the baristas and craves the warm, caffeinated air.

He gets the most work done at the café, but the opposite can be said about the library — especially the Long Room. With its high ceilings and rows and rows of tables and chairs, it's uniform and old, smells like dust and stress sweat and linoleum wax. Somehow the room's both loud and quiet. Echoey. Every cough, sniff, and sneeze amplified times a hundred. It seems counter intuitive, Jimin thinks, to go somewhere that's supposed to be quiet, just to hear everything.

But here he is. Entering the library, turning the corner, walking down the hallway, and stepping into the Long Room.

It's the week before finals. Friday. So the unpleasant atmosphere is even worse than normal. Most of the tables are occupied. Books, laptops, notes, and a few sleeping heads (and bodies) lay atop. Somewhere at the other end, someone coughs.

Jimin wrinkles his nose.

"He's over there," a voice hisses. Jimin startles, turns to look at the girl who spoke. She's at a table by herself, her textbook opened to the appendix. "You're here for him, right?"

She jerks her head to the left, vaguely gesturing at a grouping of tables. One houses three freshmen, another's occupied by someone with their head in their hands. And at the third table, nestled in the corner, is the only person that Jimin would even think about entering the library for.

Jeon Jungkook.

His back's to Jimin, so Jimin can't see his face. But he knows it's him, from his big clunky headphones covering his ears to his long, messy wavy dark hair, his broad back, his form hunched over his laptop. He types away, fingers clicking furiously.

"Thank you," Jimin says to the girl.

Then he walks over to join his best friend.

And Jimin means it – Jungkook's his Best Friend. They've known each other for what feels like forever. The shift from primary to middle school in Busan was rough. Jimin was small for his age, limbs short and wiry, glasses thick and warped. But there he met Jungkook, a kid prodigy who skipped not one but two grades.

Sure, Jimin has collected a wide swath of friends throughout school. But no one has clicked quite like him and Jungkook – not even Taehyung, his soulmate from Daegu, whom he met at university in Seoul. Jimin and Jungkook just fit together. Perfectly symmetrical. They've always laughed and learned together, leaned on each other.

Jimin needs Jungkook, and Jungkook needs Jimin.

Which is why when Jungkook mentioned he wanted to spend a semester abroad in their second to last year of university, Jimin didn't even have to ask if he should tag along. He just signed up alongside his friend, no questions asked. Jimin will never forget Jungkook's wide, excited eyes when they both received acceptance emails, his restless energy and jiggling legs.

Jimin would follow Jungkook anywhere.

Even the goddamn library.

Jungkook doesn't hear Jimin approach his back. So when Jimin reaches forward and around Jungkook's head, covering the younger's eyes with his palms, Jungkook jerks in his seat. But after a millisecond, he relaxes.

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