𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐯𝐦𝐢𝐧 ✓

Something About You

"Please. Say please. Puh-leeease."

"P-Pease?"

"Please."

"Pretty pretty pwease, with a s-strawbewwy on top?" Jimin innocently stuck out his pinky, extending it towards his mother. She laughed at his cuteness.

"I'll get you paint tomorrow, okay?" She hooked the pinky with her own.

"Thank you mama I-I luv you!" He exclaimed, then gave her a little hug. He only reached till her thigh level, but still squeezed her affectionately.

Soon, Jimin got his paint, but didn't feel like painting anymore. The boy at the window was gone.

"Mama c-can I go out?"

"Why do you wanna go out sweetheart?"

"I wanna... g-give paint."

"Why? To who?"

"To the... boy. O-Over there." Jimin pointed to the wall, but his mother understood.

"I'll be watching you. You may go." As Jimin grabbed his two tubes of pink and blue paint, he realised he had to put them down when he wore his shoes. So he fumbled with the straps, tiny fingers not helping. But soon it was messily worn and the tiny boy grabbed his things and sprinted off, hair flying in the wind.

"Min, slow down!" She exclaimed, running after him. He was actually serious about it.

"O-Okay mama!" He slowed down to a fast jog.

"Ring the bell, Min!"

"Okay mama!" He reached up, on his toes, and pressed the bell at the side of the gate.

No one answered.

He spammed it, jabbing the button again and again relentlessly. "M-Mama there is no one!" He cried out, angrily stomping his foot on the ground.

"Min." She jogged up to him, patting his hair. "I think they're out. Leave the paint outside here, okay? Let's write a note." They got a pen, paper, and Jimin proceeded to scribble nonsense and two words 'for u' in a purple marker. Pasting it onto the two tubes of paint, it was left inside the postbox.

Unnoticed.

- // -

"Who?" Taehyung murmured to himself, running a hand over the cracked tubes of blue and pink paint. It was old and dusty, with a faded note attached limply to it.

In messy toddler handwriting— 'for u'.

The now six year old barely knew how long this had been in his postbox. He'd gone out to check the mail, and only saw this. How was it not seen?

He shrugged, placing them into the box full of paints. He didn't know who all of those were from. Ranging from a spectrum of red to green, he could have painted the universe. But painting was no more.

Whoever did this must have a really kind heart, he thought, but who?

- // -