Stuck To You [JiHope]

Chapter 3

I still can't make sense of what happened Friday...

"Jung-yang! I think he's waking up! Come on buddy, that's it." I opened my eyes to see a blurry image. I frowned and blinked a few times, until the view was clear again. A familiar woman was crouched beside the couch I was laying on: my mother.

"Mom?" I could've sworn I heard Jimin's voice. Jimin soon came into view with an ice pack in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Jimin took a now-warm ice pack off my head and replaced it with the new, cold one. I rubbed my eyes slowly and frowned. "I'm confused," I muttered.

My mother took my hand between hers and looked at me with worry written on her forehead. "You fell off your bed, sweetie. Jimin said you hit your head on the bedside table pretty hard. How does it feel," she said as she used one of her hands to sweep my hair off of my forehead.

"It hurts," I said bluntly. She nodded and stood up, kissing my forehead, and walked away. Now that she mentioned it, I can feel the hammer that's trying to crack my head open. This pain irritates me, but what irritates me more is not remembering what happened. I sighed in frustration and closed my eyes. I was half asleep when I heard Jimin's voice whispering a quiet "I'm sorry."

"Jung Hoseok!"

"Huh? What?"

"I asked you a question," the teacher said with a scowl.

"Oh," I replied, looking down at my desk. I have no idea what she had said, so I just remained quiet. She moved on to the next student, thank God.

After school, Jimin and I went to his house. He has been oddly quiet since this weekend. "Chim Chim, are you okay," I asked, taking my study book and setting my school bag with his. He nodded and pulled out his books, too. We both took a seat at his desk and started studying.

I like Jimin's room more than mine. It's bigger and cooler. His desk is longer than mine and all the furniture is larger, too. Well, except for his bed. He has a twin bed that fits right under his single bedroom window. The wall by his bed stopped at the headboard and made a right angle to the protruding window. Because of this, he didn't need a bedside table. He also had a TV in his room, which is awesome.

"Jimin," I whispered as if we were at a library. He raised an eyebrow without looking up from his Korean Literature paper. "I can tell that something is bothering you." He shrugged. I sighed and decided to end my study session for the night. I'm simply not up for this crap. This was actually very unusual for me.

"What are you doing," Jimin asked in a tone that reminded me of my mother.

"Putting my books back in the bag," I answered more as a question than an answer.

"Oh, well don't be loud. I have to finish my paper." I frowned at him with my hands on my hips, though he couldn't see me. Did he seriously just tell me 'don't be loud?' What the fuck?

I looked over his shoulder to see what 'paper' he had to 'finish.' He's not even writing anything! It's fucking blank! "You're so productive," I said sarcastically right in his ear, causing him to jump. His head hit my teeth and I groaned dramatically.

"Sorry," Jimin mumbled.

"Sorry? Sorry is all I get from you," I said, raising my voice. I spun his swivel chair around, forcing him to face me. "What the Hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm stressed," he said flatly.

"You are stressed," I asked, air-quoting the last word. He nodded and spun himself back around. "I'll be back," I said with a cheery attitude and left his house.