Jimin p.o.v
You're imperfect,
--
The scent of fresh coffee brewing washed upon my senses, immediately awakening me.
I sat at my favourite cafe, just five minutes down the street, close enough if the ER needed me right away.
I lifted my cup of coffee off the table, leaving a wet beige circle on it.
To others, that would've seemed like a mess. But I know to Jungkook, it would seem like art. An inspiration.
The coffee trickled down my throat, warming up the alleyway to my heart. The wind of late Autumn rustled the orange and red colours and I found myself thinking back to my childhood.
When kids would run out and play, I'd stay inside and hunch over my textbook, solving damn equations instead of the fears that would pile in my head. My mother struggled to raise me as a single parent and encouraged me to become a doctor. So that's what I did because all my life, that's what I'd been told and expected of.
After getting into medical school with honours, I'd met an individual dozing off an class. As soon as the professor paired us together, I'd already prepared myself of doing ninety percent of the work. But surprisingly, he didn't slack off and soon enough, me and Yoongi became very close friends.
By the time we graduated and went into specialisation, he went into neurosurgery and I certified as a cardio surgeon, hoping to save others of various unknown heart diseases my father couldn't be saved from.
Yoongi really understands me and I've grown fond of him, he's an amazing friend. When he'd end up drinking too much, I'd have to apologise for his messes and carry him home. But still, it's friendships like these that remain intact even when you're no longer together.
Not that I would be leaving Yoongi's ass anytime. You never know what could go wrong, but I've always taken the safe road and have always wasted my extra minutes in ensuring that nothing could ever wrong.
Everything is perfectly perfect.
I lifted my coffee to my swollen lips and gulped the caramel macchiato. Ever since I met Jungkook, I've given up on drinking bitter Americanos.
Thinking of him makes me want to taste...sweet things.
He's always there in my mind. Whether it was 2 AM or 2 PM, Jeon Jungkook was tattooed in all the nerves of my brain.
For the past week, I'd debated whether to secretly visit Jungkook's studio whilst he was away.
But something was stopping me.
Maybe I was afraid I'd find pieces of his past he never wanted me to know.
Or maybe, pieces of his past I'd never want to know.
It's apparent by now that Jungkook was previously involved a relationship, an intense and romantic one to the point he'd wake up from nightmares. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I am glad he's like this. In fact, I can't help but feel jealous that he has dreams about his former lover than me.
My phone buzzed, my mother reminding me for the fifth time to remember to go and see the girl she'd set me up with.
As much as I'd wanted to say fuck that, I sighed and went.
I was dressed in a blue button up alongside black jeans and brown Timberlands.
Ever since that exchange we had in my office and in his room, I no longer hesitated when it came to casually touching him. I am glad he was comfortable.
