(Jungkook POV)
___
Just one voicemail.
Leave him one voicemail.
"We're sorry, but the person you're trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the to--"
I pressed 'end'.
I let the phone slip reluctantly through my fingers, my back falling on the bed lazily. I watched the ceiling fan turn and turn, stands of my hair softly rising and falling against my forehead. If I closed my eyes, felt the breeze, it would almost be as if it was summer.
Summer, heat.
It would be normal for my mum to ask, if she was home, why I had my ceiling fan on in the middle of November.
But I could touch the heat of my skin.
The say that touch is the most active of the senses. Everything you touch, everything you feel; it's as if your nerves register that new touch and then transform that into a feeling.
The rush that escapes through my pores, all to the point where even my fingertips tingle; I'm not feeling, I'm trying to remember what it was that I touched which led to this feeling; what triggered the touch to turn into a feeling my nerves register and store as memory.
I could touch this skin, but I would feel summer.
Summer; sunlight.
Sunlight; Jimin.
Yet I couldn't help but wonder; if I ever touched Jimin, what would I feel?
So I lay here, underneath my ceiling fan, watching the two blades run circles slowly and slowly, sending chills down me instead of allowing me to feel heat, instead of allowing of me to feel summer and sunlight and all feelings him.
But I wish I could.
If heat meant Jimin and not microwaved spaghetti, warming up the table mat and my cheeks and my eyes, then I wonder if I truly would.
I 'wonder'. It makes the word 'think' sound less magical, less romanticized, as if it's not what I do every second of the hours that time has set me with.
If I could describe my thoughts being derived from my 'wondering' and not my 'thinking', then I wonder if my mind would seem more worthy, more understandable.
'Twinkle, twinkle, little star
how I wonder what you are'
But it isn't wonder anymore,
it's
'how I know what you are'
I still wonder about myself, but strangely, I haven't known what I am yet.
I could be the food that escapes my throat and into the toilet. I could be the secret tears that escape during bus rides. I could be.
I could be, but I still wonder.
Because if I knew, I didn't think I would be.
My phone rung.
Startled, I flinched and reached for my it. My fingers wrapped around the warm device, warming up further as I stared at the caller ID.
Jimin
I cleared my throat, trying to warm up my voice. "A, B, C, D, E," I said the letters quickly, hoping my voice wouldn't crack and disappear.
