"Before We Fell" •TK•

[Chapter 3]

After an hour of my mother lecturing me about avoiding parties and "dangerous boys," she finally prepares to leave. With a quick, stiff hug—classic Mrs. Kim style—and a peck on my cheek, she steps out of the dorm room, calling over her shoulder that she'll wait for Bogum in the car.

"I'll miss having you around every day," Bogum says softly, pulling me into his arms. I breathe in his familiar cologne—the one I've gifted him three Chuseoks in a row—and let out a quiet sigh. I'll miss this, his steady warmth and comforting presence.

"I'll miss you too, but we'll talk every day," I promise, tightening my hold on him. "I wish you were here this year,"

I murmur, pressing my face into his neck. Bogum's only a few centimeters taller than me, and I like that he doesn't loom over me.

He kisses me gently goodbye just as my mom's impatient honk echoes from outside.
Once they're gone, I start unpacking. My clothes—neatly folded—fit into the small dresser, and the rest hang in my half of the closet.

I grimace at Jimin's side, bursting with leather jackets and bold prints that scream chaos compared to my simple sweaters.

Exhausted, I flop onto my bed. Loneliness creeps in fast, and Jimin's absence doesn't help—even if his friends unnerve me. He'll probably be gone a lot, or worse, bring people over constantly.

Why couldn't I get a roommate who loves staying in with a book or studying? Still, if he's out, I'll have this tiny room to myself. College isn't what I dreamed it'd be so far, but it's only been a few hours. Tomorrow has to be better—it just has to.

Before bed, I pull out my planner and textbooks, jotting down my semester classes and potential meetings for the literary club I'm considering.

I'm still on the fence, but some student reviews piqued my interest, so I'll check it out. I also pencil in a trip off-campus tomorrow to grab a few things for my dorm—not Jimin-level decorating, just some personal touches. Not having a car complicates things, though.

I've got enough saved from graduation gifts and part-time jobs, but I'm not sure I want the hassle of owning one yet. Living on campus means I can rely on buses for now. With thoughts of schedules, Jimin's wild energy, and that tattooed guy's cold stare swirling in my mind, I drift off, planner still clutched in my hand.

The next morning, Jimin's bed is empty. I'd like to get to know him, but if he's the type to stay out all night, maybe it's not worth it. I wonder if one of those guys yesterday was his boyfriend—hopefully the friendly one, Jiwoon, for his sake.

Grabbing my toiletry bag, I head to the shower room. I'm already dreading this part of dorm life—why can't each room have its own bathroom instead of a shared one? My stomach drops when I see the sign: two stick figures, one male, one female. Co-ed. Great.

This is going to be awkward as hell. I'll set my alarm an hour earlier from now on to avoid the crowd. The water takes forever to heat up, and I'm paranoid someone will yank back the flimsy curtain hiding me from a room full of strangers.

Everyone else seems unbothered—college is so weird. The stall's tiny, with a rickety rack for my clothes and barely enough space to move. My mind wanders to Bogum and home, and in my distraction, my elbow knocks the rack.

My clean clothes tumble onto the wet floor, soaking instantly under the spray.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I groan, shutting off the water. I wrap my towel around myself, scoop up the dripping pile, and bolt down the hall, praying no one sees me half-naked and flustered.

I fumble with my key, slip inside, and finally relax—until I turn around. There, sprawled across Jimin's bed, is that brown-haired guy from yesterday.

Jungkook. His tattooed arms are crossed behind his head, and those piercing eyes lock onto mine.

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