Crush Culture

Part 7 (FINAL)

"Hi."

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times.

"I came to give you this," you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn't slept a wink, and you're afraid it's all because of you.

"Oh...uh, thanks," he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand.

It's awkward, uncomfortable, and you can't seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He's acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

"D-Do you wanna come in?" He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don't respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

"Sure," is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn't make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he's just being kind though. Maybe it's an empty offer, something that you say when you're trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won't take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you're really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You're frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Taehyung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he's buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

"I'm sorry for ignoring your texts."

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he's looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You're sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a 'I'm checking you out' manner though; more of a 'you look so sad and I don't know what to say to you right now' kind of way.

It's true though, he doesn't know what to say – which is why he's staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn't have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn't want to say 'it's okay,' because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.