SUGAR PLUM

08. FORGET ABOUT YOU

HE TRIED TO SLEEP with a girl this morning.

had honey drip from his lips, enticing her with hooded eyes and clipped smiles.

had only gotten past names before she was on his lap begging for more.

park jimin tried, you know.

tried not to be gay.

but when he looked up at the girl rocking against him, sultry words dripping off her lips, all he could remember is the sweet roses budded words that were whispered into his ear what seemed like a millennia before.

breathless; maybe that was the word to describe it. he was breathless in all the wrong ways.

the shaking legs quivering above him, the gasped moans, nothing. nothing got his mind off of the boy who flowers would confuse as home.

she was quite literally bouncing on top of him, words stammered and vulgar.

more, more, more.

that's all anyone ever seemed to want from him.

a bored look tightened at his features, no pleasure eluding out of him. at all.

it was quite disappointing, actually.

both the girl and how his thoughts only consisted of the mystery boy from last night. he hadn't even gotten his fucking name.

after the girl insisted that she do something for him to repay the favor, he let a low, scratchy, "get out." resound through the room.

the only slightly amusing thing that day is how he remained fully clothed-other than a few buttons off his collared shirt that was popped off- while she scrambled for clothes as he stood, scrutinizing.

the girl was-well, a girl. she had nice eyes, toned thighs, a sweet smile, and her skin was pretty. but that boy... he was gold. he had this copper hair, and skin so golden it glowed. jimin couldn't decipher what type of gold he was-the sun, that provides warmth and comfort from the cold days? or the gold that's the center of a daisy-the thing that holds the delicate petals from falling apart?

no, he must be a different gold. the blonde didn't want him to be the sun, because no one stares at the sun, and all the cherry lipped boy wanted to do was stare at him.

"hey-i...you-well, ii don't usually do this but, here's my-my number and-yeah. thanks." he thinks her name was cassie-no maybe carrie, but either way, she was definitely shy. her eyes were molded into tiny slits when she smiled, and jimin felt a light ache settle at the pits of his stomach.

why didn't he care? he wanted to feel something so bad, guilt, pain, anything, but all he felt was the pounding of his head and how much he just wanted to give in and go home. he didn't even care if his father hated him, or if his mother endured all the shit given, or the cigarettes, nothing.

he wanted to go home.

so jimin plasters a smile on his face, accepts her offer to go to the coffee shop later that week, and escorts her out. 

park jimin could always try, but he won't ever forget.