orange | yoonmin ✔️

chapter one.

| ..jimin.. |

Winter was always romanticized. It was depicted as gentle snowflakes that nip and noses and cheeks gently, warm mugs of hot cocoa that fogged glasses, and fairy lights that lined shop windows. But there was nothing gentle about the white cold that froze the boy under the streetlamp on that winter day.

The sun was acting as if it was the moon that bitter morning, shining, but holding no warmth. White rays blinded the pink-haired boy's eyes, but it did not stop the chattering of his teeth. Jimin could only pull his cardigan closer around his small frame, and adjust the bag on his back. He didn't have school for the next few weeks for winter break, but it didn't stop him from waking early. He always beat the sun. Except for today. 

Today was different.

Jimin slept through his alarm and missed the bus that dropped him off at his local supermarket every morning at seven sharp. He was a whole hour late today, and he didn't see the bus coming back to pick him up at its following stop. So he decided to walk.

Bad idea.

Around him were streams of people, all with the same pained expression on their faces, shivering. Except they had people to huddle with, while Jimin stood alone in the crowd, waiting for his chance to cross the road. 

The sun had no mercy on Jimin today, it seemed, as even after he stepped into the store, the light reached at him one more time, reflecting off the glass and hitting him right in the eyes. Being himself, he stumbled back into the closest thing, which happened to be a display of oranges. 

Oranges tumbled off the shelf, and into the cart of a passerby.

"Hey! H-hey, what the fuck," went the boy, with no filter, as a string of other curses left his mouth as his cart filled up with shiny citrus fruits. The boy had black hair and dark eyes, which contrasted greatly with his snowy complexion. He was pretty, and Jimin felt intrigued with him. That was, until his eyes met Jimin's. "You! You should watch where you're going, you little," he hissed. "Now I'm going to have to get a new cart!"

Jimin watched on in silence, opening his mouth for bits, but no sounds came out.

"Are you just going to stand there? Can you at least apologize?" The boy snarled, the edge never leaving his voice. Jimin stared at him with wide eyes and shook his head. 

Was it strange to say the boy still looked pretty, even when he was practically foaming at the mouth? Jimin smiled to himself. 

"You're smiling. Why the fuck are you smiling? Do you think this is funny?" Jimin shook his head again, which apparently wasn't a satisfactory answer because the boy took two long strides towards him. "You filled my cart with oranges and I'm not leaving until you say sorry."

As a last attempt, Jimin signed out I don't talk. The boy across from him gave him a strange look, before pulling the puzzle pieces together for himself. "You can't talk." It was close enough. Jimin expected to see pity on his face, or maybe a bit of sadness, but his face was flat. Jimin felt almost..relieved. For once he felt normal.

Ever since he gave up his voice, everyone always reacted strangely to it, and it made it feel like a burden. He never once tried to speak though. Jimin swore to himself that he would never speak again. And for the first time, someone didn't treat him like he was special. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but Jimin felt the corners of his lips tug upwards. 

He rummaged in his pockets, where he usually had a pencil, but only found a loose receipt from who knows when. Jimin turned to the boy and made a writing motion in the air, and he crinkled his nose.