Flower Boy ◆ KimTaehyung✔

neuf

Tae was in a bad mood for the whole day. And I mean that's something you don't see every day.

He didn't talk when he didn't had to, he didn't let me use his markers (boy is it my fault that you're on your period?) and didn't ate up his beloved cantene food.

My genius ass managed to connect this with the fact that he needed to sleep at my place so badly. And I began to worry about my only real friend a bit.

But I only was about to be more worried.

For this we'll have to skip to the moment Tae knocked on my door.

___

He was a bit late, but did I really expect a person like Tae to be in time?

The problem was, while he was on his way it started to pour like shit and he was completely drowned.

"Hey" he huffed out with a sheepish smile. His pink-white striped sweater was almost see-through and his dungarees clung to his legs like a second skin and he all in all looked really uncomfortable.

"Geez come in, you look like you took a shower with your clothes on."

He nodded and came in hurriedly, taking off his Converse together with his soaked socks.

My dad came in in that moment and a wide smile spread over his face, making him look lile a five years old on Christmas.

"Heyy! Taehyung right? My daughter didn't tell me that she has such a pretty friend, what hair die do you use? Here let me take your bag I'll bring it upstairs, have fun you two!"

And with that he snatched Taehyung's bag and hopped out of the room.

Oh dear

Let me tell you, I never found my dad embarrassing until that very moment.

Taehyung stared at the point my dad had stood before as if he just saw a ghost not really comprehending what just happened, "He is so nice. Is he gay?"

"No", I said while patting his shoulder, "But someone has to play mom for me, no? And now go take a shower you fish."

Our house is decently big with two floors, but since it's just me and my dad I have pretty much the whole upper level for myself.

Now, call me dumb but because I was so used to being the only one ever using the bathroom I just walked in, completely forgetting that I had a guest showering in there.

He wasn't completely naked, already wearing his pants but still his upper body was all naked and his face showed off an expression of shock I would today describe as hilarous.

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" I said, immediately shutting the door.

But I guess it's true what they say. The seen can't be unseen.

He didn't look at me when he walked out, neither did he say anything.

I just watched him as he brushed his fingers through his wet locks and couldn't help but to think how it all made sense.

Why he never wore short sleeved clothes.

Why he had this habit of playing with his sleeves.

But what made him cut himself?

There were so many of them. Fresh cuts and almost faded scars, tracing his arms in a symetric pattern.

The picture had burnt itself in my brain and I suddenly had only one thought engulfing my mind.