❝You taste like oranges❞
A boy with a peculiar obsession, an illness that ivolves around him and his sudden urge to eat, or taste, oranges.
A girl with a challenging heart and a curious mind, who's nothing less than complicated, and so is he, tho...
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Sora
“Jimin” I outed, a hint of shock audible in my voice as I spoke.
He laughed, eyes wrinkling upwards at the corners. “Yeah”.
I looked away, releasing a deep breath in relief.
Tap Tap Tap. His fingers tapped onto the table infront of me as if to grab my attention or to fill up the silence that had occured.
“What's wrong?”.
“Oh, nothing's wrong, why?”.
Jimin's honey eyes interchanged between my own. “You look concerned”.
I swung on my chair, sitting ahead so that I was facing him completely and crossed my hands over my lap. “Well, I'm not”.
He stared at me for a few seconds, unsure, but then it seemed like something clicked in him, and he averted his gaze to the back of the bar where it seemed as if he was looking for someone.
Was he there with Yoongi again? Or had he left on his own?. From what I had heard about Jimin though; about how he had become shy and bound to everything, and how he always hesitated just a bit, it sounded like an unlikely version of reality.
“Jimin” I called. “So, what are you doing here?”.
He looked around, almost as if searching for someone, but his eyes never focused. He was looking, but he wasn't seeing.
He stepped forward. “Look”. He muttered, punctual. “Nobody knows I'm out yet. Not even Jungkook or Taehyung, just Yoongi, or atleast he will when he wakes up, so please don't tell anyone”.
I blacked out.
He was talking, and I was listening, but after his second-long monologue, I'd lost the true meaning of it.
“So, you're out?” I asked, head tilting to the side.
He smiled. “Yeah, basically”.
“H-how?”.
Jimin gestured to the seat next to me, waiting for my approval.
I nodded, and he came to sit next to me, the air slowly turning awkward as he did so.
“I'm okay”.
Staring at his sweet face, his lips trembling and his breath hitching, voice losing the confidence from it's colour, I wasn't sure about the truthfulness that his statement held.
“You can't tell Jungkook I'm here”.
At the hearing of a certain name, I downed my whiskey, wincing as I did so. I hit the glass against the table. Jungkook.
