Bangtan's Baby | 18+

fourteen⍣ ೋcinnamon

Two Years Ago (during Jin's eternal winter)

Jin's POV

Li's looking at me. She has been for the past ten minutes, the steam of her oatmeal swirling around her face as she does.

I've been ignoring her, keeping my attention trained on my laptop, but her gaze is distracting. Unwanted. Annoying.

"Jin?"

My fingers pause, hovering above my keyboard as her voice rings through the living room.

Why Jimin left her here is beyond my understanding. Why she's talking to me is beyond my understanding.

I don't respond, and she timidly repeats my name.

I tear my attention from my work to glare at her. "What?"

She starts slightly, causing her spoon to clank around in her bowl.

"Hi," she says, her voice sounding higher than before. "Sorry, I—I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just—I was making something—" She gestures to a pile of yarn beside her. "and I was trying to guess your measurements, but I couldn't, and I was—well, I was wondering if maybe you knew them?" She lifts a lump of yarn. "I'm making scarves."

My eyes narrow at the yellow clump. "That looks like shit."

"Oh." She looks down at it. "I haven't done anything yet. It's just...yarn." She pushes out a laugh, too high-pitched for it to be normal. "It's a little tangled."

"Focus on that, and stop looking at me."

She grips her bowl tighter. "I'm sorry. I'll—" She gets to her feet, hurriedly grabbing the shit-show of yarn and clutching it to her chest. Without another word, she's gone.

I forget about her. I forget about her oatmeal and scarves. 

I pour myself into my work and don't bother to retrieve myself even when it's done; even when my laptop is closed and away, I'm still there. I'm still thinking about what beats to use, what sounds to mix, and what vocals to layer. Anything to keep myself busy. Anything to withstand the cold nipping at my mind.

Time stands still, yet somehow it still passes. An unset amount of it does, and I open my bedroom door. It must be morning. I can hear the birds somewhere, but I'm not sure if I'm imagining them.

There's a box waiting for me, and I nearly trip over it. It wakes me up, snaps me back into myself.

I lean down to retrieve the box, muttering throughout the two second ordeal. 

It's addressed to me, my name scribbled in pink. The brightness of it hurts my eyes, and I look away, ripping the package to make it disappear.

It opens, and I'm ready to toss it into the hallway and slip back into my haze, but something falls out. 

A scarf.

An ugly, vibrant scarf.

And I'm pissed.

♡

"What is this?" I hold the scarf up as I glare down at her. "I told you to focus on your yarn."

Li looks at the scarf before looking at me. Her fingers turn white from their grip on her mug.

"I did," she responds shakily. "I did focus on it. I made something with it."

"I didn't ask for this," I voice gruffly. I shake it in my hold. "What business do you have being near my bedroom?"

"None." Her eyes are wide. Big. "I'm really sorry. You just—you looked sad, and the weather's getting colder. I thought you might like a scarf."

She lifts her hand. I stare at it.