Violet || Kim Taehyung [ON HOLD]

F I V E

🍃March 20

Now I'm suspicious. 

"Are you stalking me?" I ask. 

You yelp, stumbling with the box in your hands. 

I can't believe I saw you at the convenience store. 

Maybe you do come here often and I just hadn't noticed before. 

But it's still fishy how I'm seeing you everywhere. 

"What the hell?" you scowl. 

You hug the box to your chest. They're pads. 

I didn't mean to read what they are. 

You grow more frustrated when you notice. 

"Excuse me? Do I look like a creep to you? Maybe you are the one stalking me," you huff. 

You walk past me, pushing your trolley full of food products.

I follow, not you, of course. We're just going in the same direction to the checkout counter. 

I just have a box of cereal and marshmallows. 

The cigarettes are right behind the guy at the counter. 

I don't want to buy them in front of you, though. 

Just because you might tell Jimin again, not because I care about what you think. 

After the cashier tells me the total, I get out to find you walking in front of me. 

Once again, we're going in the same direction. 

My strides are longer than yours and I happen to reach you soon.

"See, you are stalking me," you point out. 

"My apartment's this way. I can't help it."

It's quiet between us. For a while. 

"I saw you that day," I blurt out. 

"Which day?" you ask. 

"At the ice cream parlor. You were with that Jean dude," I say. 

"Yeah, Jean dude," you snort, unfazed, "That guy's an asshole."

I smile at how blunt you are. 

"So I heard."

"So did so many kids. I'm an idiot," you groan. 

You kick a pebble that hits the side of my shoe. 

I kick it back to you. 

"I think you were just overwhelmed. Being emotional doesn't make you an idiot," I say. 

You kick the stone back to me. Then it turns into a game of mini-soccer with shoe goalposts. 

"I guess I was feeling too much. I really didn't want to see his face."

The next time you kick the pebble, it rolls onto the street and gets run over by a car. 

RIP, our soccer ball. You will be missed. 

"Is he your soulmate?"

"He said he was," you whisper, "But he's not."

I don't understand how someone can lie about it and get away with it. 

Maybe you really are an idiot. 

"He said I could be a late-bloomer," you explain. 

That makes sense. Late-bloomers are people who show delayed responses to their soulmates. 

Their soulmate might see colors on contact immediately, but late-bloomers don't for a while - minutes, hours, or even days. They will eventually, but not instantly. 

"And I believed him. I don't know why I did. Maybe I was so desperate to meet my soulmate."

You continue to talk. I'm too invested in your story to make you stop. 

"I mean, I saved myself for my soulmate. It's not because I wanted to be pure or anything. It's just something I felt- but..." you sniffle.

No. 

I don't like where this is going.

I don't want to hear more. 

But it's good for you to pour your heart out. 

A tear slips down your cheek. I don't think at the moment. 

A girl is crying in front of me. I offer you the sleeve of my hoodie for you to cry on. 

You grab on with your small hands, dropping your grocery bags. 

Your hand touches mine.

And the world explodes into color.