ᴄʜᴀsɪɴɢ ʀᴀɪɴʙᴏᴡ

24. An attempt at cooking and connecting

Home - BTS

Jungkook

When I woke up, I saw Hyung on the couch, his feet heaped on top of the handrest.

He had given me coffee and aspirin, so I was thankful as I woke up with no hangover. I needed to start drinking in moderation. I was still new to the alcohol game. I didn't want to wake him up, so I tip-toed out of his dorm room by holding the shoes in my hands.

Once in the corridor, I cradled my feet in the shoes. Sunshine from the vast windows licked at my skin. The winter semester was over. The weather was more hospitable now and I couldn't wait for the warmer semester to start, but before that, I couldn't wait to go eat something.

I ran on my way out of the senior's dormitory. The whole place was empty and there was no one to stop me or question me about my purpose of being there, but I couldn't be sure. It was safe to be cautious.

As soon as I got into my VIP dorm, I rushed to the kitchen. We didn't have anything stocked on normal days, but especially since I knew Ulrich was going to leave and as he'd told me that the cafeteria would be closed, I'd brought groceries to last me at least a week.

I haven't really cooked anything before, but I've watched my butlers, maids, and mother in the kitchen. YouTube always helped, so I began.

Within half an hour, my preparation was done, and in the next twenty minutes, the whole place smelled like home. I was satisfied with it, but I had to taste the food too, not wanting to serve the disaster to Jimin. He was always a gracious host. I didn't want to leave any stone of my effort unturned while serving him. It took me back to my childhood when I tasted potato pancakes. God! I started missing home then.

I packed the food in the boxes and rushed to my wardrobe, choosing a simple outfit of a black T-shirt and some loose denim pants. Jimin's fashion sense was commendable. He dressed up like a celebrity. His body was ripped and it helped, too. Because every fit and style complimented him. He looked like a man prepared to stand on top of the stage and dominate the world at any given point.

I wondered why Taehyung Hyung was more popular than him. I knew he made more effort to mingle with people, and people liked his easy charm.

On the other hand, Jimin was an enigma, and still no less popular than Taehyung Hyung. I've seen people trying to figure him out, but he always maintained a safe distance. It was I was sure intentional. If I didn't know better, I'd say he didn't talk much either, but he was very selective, carefully choosing his friends. He was also a hell of a funny guy when he wanted to be, which showed me how much capacity he had packed with potential to be a social butterfly, but he graciously let his friend hold the medal of honor.

Jimin's race was different, but my race had an end line at his heart.

I quickly showered and rushed back, feeling the cool breeze of a fresh morning. I let myself revel in it. In honesty, loving Jimin was a job tougher than I let it on. When it was just me and the darkness of the silent night, it shattered me repeatedly to imagine I was heading toward the wreckage that my brain identified. Jimin wasn't only a man interested in women, he was also in a relationship with one.

I often held my breath to stop feeling despair and sometimes, I gasped for air when it didn't come easily at the thought of it all. But if I needed to survive this, if I needed him to feel what I did, I couldn't quit the race when it had barely begun was what my heart said. It probed me and told me that we'll deal with everything together as partners when the day comes. So I locked my insecurities and fears behind my goofiness and trodded on.