اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
I learn a lot of not-so-useful things about the girl during the next few days.
Her name's Yeon-doo.
It's that kind of name I have no petty comments for, slipping from anyone's tongue easily, almost as if everyone loves her. No wonder, she's cute after all, neat, lovely even and I'm frivolous.
It hurts because I'd choose her before me too.
She's more suitable for someone as fascinating as him anyways.
It's our main break when I'm sitting at our lunch table in the school's cafeteria with Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok, watching the said girl as she's standing by her locker, flirting practically boldly with a short pale guy with a posy of gladioluses in his hand.
He's leaning closer for my liking than I'd like to admit, a polite sympathetic expression on his petite face, saying something that makes her blush so hard she needs to hide shyly in the collar of her tank top. I shouldn't mind, I have no reason to.
Except that the guy she's with is actually my brother's cat-like edgy boyfriend, not caring even a bit if he's being seen, small eyes so full of grisly charm, foul respect smeared over the fondness I have for him.
If I ever found Yoongi ugly, it is in that very moment.
Jimin, however, doesn't do much more than save a spot for him by our table, taking out the sweet strawberries mom gave him for breakfast, stuffing his plush mouth silly until he's full. After that, he dares to steal Mark's sandwich, munching silently, almost as if he's peaceful.
Jungkook sighs, on the verge of tears himself: "Jiminie, won't you go talk to him?"
Another eager bite, then: "Stop whining, you're making me nervous."
"I'm making you nervous? She's out there with Yoongi, for fuck's sake. Our Yoongi. Aren't you shocked? Just look at him."
He does. Jimin looks at the love of his life, the reason he still wakes up at the crack of dawn just to say 'good morning' to the one he treasures, and the same boy is bending even closer to the elf-like creature in front of him, eyes wide and interested. Jimin doesn't do anything but a huff, looking down.
"Well, I'm only afraid he won't come here before the break's over. His pizza is getting cold."
Kook furrows his eyebrows, his expression the one of limitless wonder, glossy, perplexed: "But he's-"
"Do you think he'd be mad if I just eat it?"
"Jimin-"
"Listen here, fucker," he snaps, wide gullible eyes not once leaving his dark lover, "Yoongi is the sweetest boyfriend I could ever have and he would never cheat on me, trust me. Besides, that girl's ass can never in a million years compete with mine."
"That is true," someone voices above us and I'm met with a sight of no other that Min Yoongi, holding up a bouquet of gladioluses and a small jewelry box, a look so smitten in his eyes it's almost sickening. His orbs are gleaming with a starry rosy-like glint of pure, simple love directed at my giddy tiny brother and I remind myself I almost forgot.
I almost forgot the outdone glimpse of unfathomable fondness that's always somewhere in the back of their tie, unflagging, eternal with its wildfire.
Of course. By all means, our sunflower couple shall never be miserable.
The dun babe bows before us to reach the smaller's plump scarlet lips, smiling as he gifts him a chaste kiss, a present he always grants so happily, blithely, excited far more than the one that earns it.
"Happy anniversary, baby puff," he says under his breath, love leaking through every gap he has.
"I love you, ya know," is the petite's answer, short chubby fingers finding their way in the dark locks at the back of his head, pulling him closer.
Yoongi smiles, making me feel like I have no place in this world for no one looks at me that way: "Yeah, you said. Thank you."
Jimin giggles in his embrace, not minding even a bit that the taller's pressing him firmly against his chest, shoving his face with fast wet smooches.
"I love you. I love you. I love you," Yoongi chants soundlessly, like he's desperate to say it, like he forgot to tell him in his past life.
I avert my gaze as they start sucking each other's faces off, lost in the thoughts of how fatally beautiful this play of trust between them is until I meet eyes with her.
Yeon-doo's staring in my eyes like some kind of chummy lunatic, a warm smile stretching her thin lips to the point she's grinning wider than possible, scary.
But maybe I'm just imagining since she's the one taking away the only thingI've learned to love.
She gives me a small curt nod, turns on her miniature heels and storms off, leaving behind a faint smell of lemons and mint, nostalgia, homesickness.
Why do I have such a ruinous feeling about her?
And what is her deal with Yoongi-hyung?
Before I can ask any of those questions, Yoongi's already preoccupied with my sweet-smelling giant, pulling him away from us with a stern draconian expression on his pale face.
