It's easy to look at love and and admire it. You'd dreamt about it your whole life, but nothing could have prepared you for the side effects of it, for the fragility of breaking and for the angst of falling.
Around you, even when you hadn't noticed...
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Jimin sighed loudly, throwing his phone onto the table infront of him. "Jungkook isn't coming either".
You shook your head in disbilief, and just sat back on the couch, engulfing yourself in the warmth of the soft blanket Jimin had given you.
In a way, it would be awkard for you that none of them would be here. It would just be you...and Jimin. Atleast this time you would be able to get closer to him, learn about him, get interested in him. I mean, you knew the others pretty well at this point. Yet the boy that you ran into every single day of your life was still a mystery to you. He was nice, that's all you knew. You definetely wanted to get to know him better. This was your chance.
Just you and Jimin..
"So Ji-" The boy walked out of the room before you could speak, making his way to what seemed to be the kitchen, or something acquivalent to that anyway.
Your eyes trained onto his sculpted back, muscles clenching under his light gray shirt as he leaned down to grab a drink out of the fridge.
You zoned out for a minute.
You always knew the boy was beautiful, it just never occured to you just how much he really was. He was...ethereal. Atleast that was the only name you could find that suited his unique looks. Tall-ish, skinny, muscled. A head of pink hair and soft, brown eyes, pink plump lips and rosey locks. He was special.
“For you” You jumped up, coming out of your thoughts as your eyes met his. His hand sprawled out, a glass full of a golden liquid in his hand.
“What is it?” You asked, hesitentaly freeing it from his grip. The tip touched your lips.
“It's just apple Juice” He smiled brightly. “Don't worry, I am not trying to get you drunk or anything”.
You smiled back shyly, the sweet flavour overtaking your pallette.
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“So, where are you from?” You asked the pink-haired boy. Jimin slid down the couch, his head resting on the soft pillow and his legs spread out onto the floor. “Busan you?”.
“I'm from...” For a minute, you were going to answer. Truth is, you didn't have an answer, you simply didn't know. “I'm not entirely sure to be honest”.
Jimin's head cocked to the side, his eyebrow raising in question.
“What do you mean?”. Jimin didn't get it. How could someone not know where they are from? It was basic information. Even if you didn't choose to know it, you just did.
