Under your angelic body

I did something wrong

Hoseok's POV

"I can't believe you sat through three entire sessions with ugly loser Layla," Jimin says, carelessly stuffing his books in his locker.

"Cut it," I huff in annoyance, leaning against the lockers.

"I'm just trying to offer my condolences," he chuckles. "I mean, that must have been rough," Jimin says with a cynical smile.

I bite my lip; if he only knew the truth. How I went to see her at the coffee shop. How I took her shopping. How I jerked off in my car thinking about her.

"It was horrible," I say, forcing out my words. "I mean, it was either that, or grab a gun and go on a fucking rampage."

Jimin laughs, "Nice try. We both know you've been enjoying your time with her."

"Shut up, Jimin," ," I scold him, "It's been miserable. She's so fucking pathetic. She even gave me her dirty underwear."

"She didn't," Jimin laughs.

"You don't know how difficult it's been, being around that hippie with her greasy hair and neon green socks. She stinks."

A devious, intrigued facial expression pops up on Jimin. I continue, "I just can't wait to get the exams over. Putting up with that hippie has been a fucking nightmare."

"Hey, Hoseok," Layla says from behind me.

The blood drains out of my face. Of all the voices in the crowed hall, hers was the last one I expected. I laugh initially, but it seems to be out of sheer nervousness; Jimin's laugh is one of pure enjoyment.

I turn around slowly. I pray by some miracle that Layla didn't hear my stinging words, holding out a glimmer of hope. I desperately mouth at Layla so Jimin wouldn't see, "Layla, not now, please go away," but she doesn't notice; she's looking for something in her backpack instead. I can't tell for sure since her head is down, but her eyes look red.

She continues digging and matter-of-factly says, "I think we accidentally swapped books yesterday. I only noticed because mine has a bunch of notes written in it, and the one I opened last night didn't have any of my writing, so I can only assume it was yours. It makes the most logical sense if you think about it..." Layla keeps rambling about the stupid book, but never makes eye contact with me. When she holds the book out I can tell by the dampness and the puffy rings around her eyes that she isn't doing so well.

Jimin gives me a look of surprise: I didn't tell him that I was still studying with Layla, let alone yesterday. Jimin flat out laughs but to me, it sounds something more like a cackle.

"Are you lending your dirty underwear t-,"

"God Jimin, shut the fuck up," I hiss.

Layla locks eyes with me. She heard me. She heard every cruel word I said about her. There is no mistaking it. And as I spit out my venomous words with my back to Layla, she simply sat there and took it for as long as she could. As if that wasn't bad enough, she just kept talking as if I never said those hurtful words, as if she could ignore every cruel word I spit out. "Layla," I whisper. "What you heard. I mean...I didn't..."

I try to address what I said, making my best attempts at damage control. I want to explain what I said, but my words backfire; they only serve to bring to light the cruelty I hammered Layla with.

She couldn't pretend that she didn't hear my painful words any longer.

"Here, just take it," she chokes out, shoving my book towards me, her emotions rapidly slipping out of her control. With all of my focus on Layla, I try to make a feeble attempt to grab it but the book slips out of my hand and falls on the floor. Layla doesn't even wait to get her own book back; she turns and quickly walks off.

"Oh shit, Hobi! You made her cry," Jimin laughs. "Swapped books last night, huh," he scoffs. "Whatever. Bet you swapped more than that," he gives me a wink.

I run my hands through my hair. Fuck. "I fucked up. I can't believe I did that," I mumble.

Jimin knew by the look in my eyes that I was remorseful, but he wasn't expecting me to be upset like this. He raises an eyebrow. "Are you sweet on Layla?" he gives me suspicious look but with an amused tone of voice.

"Of course not," I slam the locker door shut. That's fucking ridiculous. But why do I feel like I did something terrible? I've called people worse things before, and even to their face.

But this is different and it's tearing me up. I'm not exactly sure how, but somehow this is much different.

The guilt is overwhelming; never before had I wanted to go back in time and erase a mistake as much as I do right now. I didn't mean to hurt her feelings; I really didn't. Maybe it was because of the look on her face, seeing the way I devastated her. I could tell by that look in her eyes. It absolutely crushed her. What I said to her, knowing I can't take it back...it's a fucking nightmare that I can't wake up from.

"I'll be right back." I take off down the halls, ducking through the crowds, hoping I can find Layla before it's too late.

By the time I rounded the same corner she turned down only moments earlier, she's gone. She vanished into a ocean of faces.

I skip soccer practice later that day. I tell Jimin to tell the coach I'm not feeling good. Technically, it was the truth; I feel sick to my stomach, but it isn't exactly because of the flu. It's more self-induced.

I dart inside the library, but Layla isn't there. I try calling her, but it goes straight to voice mail. I listen to her entire 'leave a message' spiel, but right when I'm about to leave a message I chicken out and hang up.

Throughout the rest of the day and even into the night, I tried calling several more times, each one met without any luck. After the eighth or ninth call, I finally decided to leave a message. Taking a deep breath after the beep prompts me, I say, "Hi, Layla. I..., just wanted..., to say that I'm sorry. I hope that...fuck," I curse silently, "please call?"

I hang up and sigh. That went so fucking well.

The next morning, I linger by her locker as long as I can, hoping to catch her in the hallway. I silently curse under my breath as Jimin texts me, realizing that not only would I be late to my class, but also that Layla was a no show.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Jung," our English lecturer says as he continues to write the daily assignment up on the board.

"Sorry," I say softly, sliding into my seat next to Jimin.

"Hobi," Jimin whispers, "You've got to pull it together man."

l ignore him.

"Look, I saw you hanging out by her locker. Just give it time. She'll eventually show up, you apologize, and then get on with your fucking life. Or, just do what the old Hobi would do and say fuck it."

I don't even acknowledge his comment. I instead try to refocus my efforts to the lecturer, looking straight ahead towards the board. My effort is unsuccessful as I somehow look past it, distantly staring off at nothing.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say this new Hoseok is growing a heart," Jimin says with a slight upward curve to his lips.

"Shut the fuck up, Jimin."