SUGAR PLUM

11. HOW DO I LIVE?

IT WAS THE DREADED DAY OF OCTOBER THIRTEENTH.

stumbling into the campus after missing the bus, blonde hair that was once styled to perfection just thirty minutes ago was now anything but orderly; baby hairs scattered about, sticking up and out like a sore thumb. some hair matted to his forehead, giving him the messy hair look that all the human's swooned over. his black backpack was adjusted to one of his shoulders, straps loosely tugging the small boy's frame into a stiffly straight stance; contrasting greatly from the laidback way of carrying his belongings. dressed in a striped shirt and black jeans that accentuated his figure, jimin looked like a model.

in all honesty, if park jimin walked in wearing a trash bag (even if it was full) everybody would swoon. why? simply because he was fucking park jimin.

as one couldn't help but notice, his eyes were wider than usual-rather than the dull slant of his eyes, it was rounded with an expectation; a hope. the male's usual pursed lips were softened to a soft curve; tilting upwards in a degree so slight, it was almost unnoticeable.

but as one couldn't help but notice, his eyes were scanning the area for something; and jeon jeongguk knew that jimin still was terrible with directions.

so jeongguk-the one who couldn't help noticing park jimin's everything-slowly creeped up behind him. his sneakers skillfully stepped over any hazards-branches, leaves, etc.-and his footsteps were muffled by the chatter of cars rushing behind him.

once he was almost an arms reach behind him, he pounced.

the younger noted how the blonde's eyes widened to the size of full moons, mouth clamped shut-although a small inhale was heard. his backpack-his only way of defense if this was a real situation- was dropped to the floor, slinging off his shoulder and landing to the ground with a thud.

arms entangling around the older's stiffened waist, head nuzzling into the area where the dancer's neck melts into his shoulder, the raven haired boy grinned.

this joy, however, only lasted a moment.

a startled gasp ripped out of jimin's throat, before the shock manifested itself into a harsh elbow to the ribs, and almost backhand.

coughing out, the seventeen year old's hunched form was soon greeted by bunches of sputtered apologies.

"oh my-" jimin noted how the younger's arms-now draped tightly around his aching stomach- were thickened by excess gym time.

"well, this is your fault."

a deadpan settled across the younger's face, his loud groans halted.

"m-mY FAULT? OH, BITCH I KNOW YOU FUCKIN LYIN-" his 'oh' was drawled out in disbelief, and as he was screeching profanities, jimin was dialing 112.

"hello, officer?" jimin faked a whimper, "there's a seventeen year old rabid human. i-i think he's on drugs. i'm h-hiding i-in a closet right now-" a sob faker than plastic dropped out of his lips.

"i KNEW you were closeted." the film-maker just had to add his commentary to everything. his large hand overturned the liar's phone, revealing his home screen (which was jeongguk's annoyingly adorable dog.)

jimin sheepishly smiled, before pocketing his phone.

"what're you doing here?" a fond adoration replaced the mischief lurking behind the wannabe dancers eyes.

"just tryna see the campus, get a feel of it since i'm gonna be here in a few years." he shrugged, running a hand through the ruffles of his black hair. the action caused his hair-after escaping the clamp-to become voluminous; the middle part caused two waves to cascade down his revealed forehead, poofier than before. his eyebrows were thick, so when uncovered, a new intimidating persona was replaced by the usual fluffy aura he gives out.