No Strings

Part 9

Jimin actually laughs, eyes crinkled while slapping his knee. Some of his drink spills out, which Namjoon easily dodges. "Hey," Namjoon complains. "Let's not attack our friends; the people who just want to help and support you."

Seokjin wipes his forehead. "I'm sweaty. Am I sweaty? I – oh, fuck. There she is."

Looking around, Jimin sees Minsun enter. She is not alone though, and when his gaze sweeps sideways – Jimin freezes.

You are not the kind of girl he would normally go for. Normally, his friends are able to pick out who Jimin will like a second after entering the bar. He goes for the tipsy one, the already dancing one, the one scanning the crowd as though evaluating each guy is her bed. Usually, the girl wears tight clothing, too much makeup and an air of desperation.

To be fair, Jimin also wears tight clothing and is desperate himself.

You are none of these things.

Actually, you look kind of nervous when you enter. You hold your purse close to your body, lips pursed in disapproval. The all-black turtleneck and suede skirt you wear are out of place but for some reason, Jimin cannot stop staring. He cannot stop imagining what lies underneath all those clothes.

Maybe that is the point. Some girls dress like that purposefully but for some reason, Jimin does not think you are like that. Everything about you seems too genuine to be planned. The way your eyelashes flutter as you walk, the small tic your fingers make against the fabric of your skirt. When a light flashes over your face, illuminating your eyes – Jimin sucks in a breath, not understanding why he is reacting to you this way.

"Uh, earth to Jimin?" Namjoon says, waving a hand over his eyes.

Jimin blinks, gaze moving to Namjoon. "Uh, right. Seokjin," Jimin says, pointing. "There's your girl!"

Seokjin has turned a rather unnatural shade of white. "I c-can't do this," he stutters.

"Yes, you can." Jimin gives him a nudge. "Namjoon and I are right behind you. Metaphorically speaking. Literally, we'll be standing over here."

Seokjin whirls to grab Jimin by the arm. "What if I fuck this up?" he gasps. "That's it, you're coming with me."

"Me?" Jimin protests, but Seokjin is already dragging him towards the door. Heart pounding, Jimin cannot stop looking at you. He wishes he had more time to prepare, to think of something to say. "What do you need me for?" he asks.

"Because," Seokjin hisses, looking over his shoulder. "Minsun brought her roommate, Jimin. That means she's worried. She thinks I'm lame or boring and is worried she'll need a way out."

Jimin chews at his lip, allowing himself be pulled because Seokjin is right – that is what that means. "Okay," he agrees. "Fine. But what do you want me to do?"

"Distract her," Seokjin pleads. "Talk to her roommate, I'll owe you! She's cute," Seokjin nods enthusiastically, knowing you are not Jimin's usual type, which is why he is begging. "She's not bad to look at, either."

"Not bad to look at?" Jimin mutters, offended. "She's fucking gorgeous." Luckily Seokjin does not hear this, too busy watching Minsun as they walk. "I mean," Jimin corrects himself quickly. "Let's go."

Finishing his drink, Jimin follows Seokjin and once they arrive, Seokjin flashes the women a smile. "Minsun," he says, waving shyly.

Minsun looks at him, as though she only just noticed Seokjin was there. Jimin stifles a grin because Minsun very obviously saw Seokjin when she walked through the door. The game they are playing is at once both adorable and nauseating.