21: I Know You

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Today was another ordinary day for Jimin. He had thought that it would pan out like the rest.

Jimin found himself thinking more and more about what had happened that day with Yewon. The others had clearly been pretty shaken, not knowing that Jimin had a damn girlfriend before, but he knew they wouldn't understand. He'd been out of his mind then, always telling people he was straight.

But Yewon, Yewon, Yewon.

Even though she had been nicer in the beginning, he didn't ever take any liking to her. She was a stranger in several ways, going from offering flirtatious comments to ordering people to leave her alone. No one really knew what she was like, including Jimin. He guessed he hadn't gotten to know her because he was scared of what she could do, and the rumors she could spread.

At one point, he thought they were friends. They even went together to a bookstore one time at night, but he thought it was as friends. Apparently, she wanted something more that he couldn't give.

Same with Ryujin, but she had been respectful about it and backed out before anything worse could happen. 

He found Yewon crossing his mind more than anything else which, at that point, was a lot. Besides a man in his head, Jeongguk, Taehyung, dancing, his parents, or something along the lines, he thought about nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Not even what he would do after graduating college. All he knew about that was he would probably end up on the street somewhere begging for money because how, on everloving planet Earth, was he supposed to whip up some business job that he actually cared enough about to show up?

He didn't even care enough now.

And that's how he ended up walking to talk to Ryujin, in his classic sweats and sweatshirt. She might not be on her shift at that exact moment, but he could always wait. Or leave. It didn't really matter.

Being a nuisance would just bring more embarrassment into the situation. How embarrassing.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling out his phone, and looked at the time. Just enough of it to talk, head back to his apartment, and sulk just before he had to get up and make himself some early dinner—although it tasted more like trash—sulk more, and then go to bed.

Unless he stole some cereal from Jeongguk's stash from his room which smelled like his perfumes. And that probably wasn't an option, because he would end up bawling by the time he got back to the kitchen.

Speaking of food, the glorious, yellow café—colored by yours truly—was already in view, which he could tell was open. But, much to his dismay, Ryujin was nowhere to be found, unfortunately, as he found when walking in the door. He could almost taste the roasted coffee beans, mixed with chocolate, another one of his favorite scents—he had many. Thankfully, thankfully, no one was staring.

Maybe he could call this his safe haven again.

Very carefully, he peered around the counter, looking for signs of the angry waitress who'd spat at him the last time. If she was there, then he would probably take off running in the other direction. He looked multiple times, poking his head around the tall person in front of him. That person was lucky.

He wanted to be tall, but he kind of wasn't. Or, at least, he thought he wasn't tall.

But thankfully said angry waiter wasn't there to claw at his delicate skin, and he was able to secure his coffee, which he burned his tongue on. Another fortunate moment to add to his collection.

He decided to blow it again before taking a slow sip, burn aching. Ouch.

Once he was out of the place, enjoying the cold air once again, he tucked his hood over his head. There were only a few more people lining the streets, their interactions minimal. He closed his eyes, sipping the coffee while also trying to ignore the lingering burning sensation on his poor tongue.

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