How To Be A Hoe

38 | Empire

You tensed in your position as Jimin walked into the kitchen, chest still bare, pants loosely hung around his waist, yawning.

With a brisk, businesslike efficiency, you placed the toast and omelettes on the two plates already on the table, and slid out a chair, sitting down with the air of a CEO.

A spring seemed to have coiled in your stomach lately, making all your movements rigid and uptight, not letting you flow freely. The last time you (half) remembered being fluid was that night, with Jimin. It wasn't the way you wanted to remember it, but you did. Usually, you would have tried to push away the memory, and that of Jimin's pained expression after, but you thought of it often just to punish yourself. Like a knife you constantly stabbed into your own heart, to hurt yourself over and over, in a pitiful attempt to loosen the guilt that stuck to you like superglue.

This was the the skin you were comfortable in, the behavior you were used to, the person you had been all your life before it fell to pieces.

This was you.

Or at least, it had been. Once upon a time.

Jimin did a double-take, eyes widening almost comically. This was the first time he had seen you behave close to normally in a long time, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed behave.

So, naturally, he reverted to his first line of defence. "Did your backup food supplied finally grow mold?"

You sat down on the chair staring at him, not having expected him to speak to you, and in the same way as he always did. Maybe he really was fine. "I was afraid you were going to grow it, and came out just to make sure you weren't infecting the house."

"You're so funny."

"Yet another quality you wish you had."

The banter was almost normal for the two of you, but it sounded strained. Even Jimin's carefree voice was tensed and wound-up, like a clockwork toy.

"You're being defensive," e said in a teasing, sing-song voice, sitting down on the chair opposite you.

"And you're being an ass.," you snapped. And immediately regretted it. Slowly, you let your eyes close, and put your head into your hands.

His face softened as he leaned forward, prying the salt shaker from your fingers when you aggressively decided to salt your coffee. "Is this about me ignoring you?" He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted this; me gone from your perfect life."

"It's pretty amazing if you think my life is still perfect." You laughed bitterly, blinking hard.

"Okay, I'm sorry I said that." Jimin's jaw worked as he tried to look away from your slightly glistening eyes. "I'm sorry. Fine? Fuck."

This was a mistake, you thought painfully, wishing you could turn back time and convince yourself not to step out of the safety of your room. "Great," you said with a wisp of a voice, removing your hands from your head and straightening. "You know, it would have been easier if you hadn't been my roommate."

He looked at you sadly, noticing how the new lines around your mouth curved when you spoke and how your posture was so straight and how you didn't like laughing anymore. "But it isn't easy, is it?" he asked darkly. "It's not easy that I'm your roommate and know which shoe you put on first, and how you like your cereal, and the fact that your clothes are color-coded—"

"Jimin, stop."

"—and I wish I didn't know that you study late at night and wake up early anyway, and how you're so sleep-deprived the circles under your eyes are almost blue, and that you cry sometimes when you have nightmares, and—"