Saudade | P.JM

06: Angel

I sat at the edge of my bed, holding the small yellow papers in my hands which I had received up until now. I smiled, rummaging through them. I even caught myself biting my lip, as if I got nervous just by his handwriting. It was boyish, clumsy, but readable. I didn't know why, but his handwriting did not fit what I had thought it would be like. I had spotted his signature on his drivers license, when I went through his wallet recently. Why? Because I wanted to see what gift cards he had so we could decide what to eat one evening and when I stumbled upon his drivers license, I had to take a closer look. The photos are always horrible I'd heard, but his wasn't the worst. Anyways, his signature was very over the top, yet pretty, clean and graceful. I hadn't imagined his handwriting to suck this much. But again, I just found it cute.

Though, the letters had turned weirder lately.

Over the past week, I'd received two more, both found in my little handbag shortly after the dates I'd had with Jimin. 

One of them read,

I can be pretty bad Peaches, are you a bad girl? Will you obey if I ask you to?
- JM

As said, they'd grown weirder, yet I didn't seem to find them too weird. This note provoked a feeling shivering through my body. It got me excited for something, but I wasn't sure what. I thought it was sexy.

The next even rhymed, which intrigued me. It was kind of cringe, but attracting too. A man who's good with words, is good by heart, I thought. Maybe, considering his profession as a dancer and dance teacher, he'd write me a song one day. I mean, dancers have to have a knowledge within music as they have to analyze it to make a choreography or whatever, I thought. I was totally day dreaming, but life's no fun without doing just that. The note read,

You like playing with fire I see. I do too, but don't make me.
- JM

Daemi had asked me what the notes meant, and to this I could've asked her the same. Playing with fire? I had been annoyed at him a few times while hanging, but only for a short matter of time and he'd yet to be angry with me. Most of the time, I didn't know what Jimin meant by what he wrote. Yet the words still drew me in some way. Maybe because I knew Jimin had written them.

It was later the same day and Jimin and I had been hanging together for a few hours. He'd gotten off work early and I had no shifts today, so we met early afternoon and it was now past evening time.

We'd been playing mini golf, walked a bit and ended it with dinner. I had an early shift tomorrow at the bakery, starting at 5 am, so we agreed it was better for Jimin to drive me home, than to his apartment. He too wouldn't want me to be too tired tomorrow morning.

Jimin and I had grown a lot closer over the past one and a half week. It felt like I had know him for much longer than I actually had. Not because I knew everything about him, but because I felt safe around him.

All my worries and pressing thoughts would disappear when I spent time with him, and I'd finally relax. When I missed my brother, I thought about how proud he'd be because I was starting to open up again and I imagined how much he and Jimin would click. They had a few similarities, such as what team they cheered on in football, my brother once wanted to be a trainee so he knew dancing too and he could throw off my temper and make me smile again incredibly fast, which Jimin also seemed to be capable of.

Jimin was basically everything I imagined I would've wished for if I was looking for a boyfriend before I met him. He was funny, kind, absolutely handsome and humble even though he had his cocky and arrogant moments. He listened to me like nobody else did, perhaps mostly because I hadn't given other's a chance, but with Jimin I just felt like I could say anything. He made me feel comfortable, safe and stable in a way I hadn't felt since my brother passed. I hadn't been to the club even once, because Jimin always made sure to book my Friday night. He made me feel happier every day, he comforted me when I felt sad and he pissed me off a few times, which somehow always ended in a heated kiss. He was sly, good at flirting and altogether irresistible, even when I was annoyed with him. He always took advantage of that, still I never declined his kiss.