12:00 a.m
roses are red
violets are blue
it's a new year already
a year to start something new.
(p.m.)
Jimin rereads the poem once more, than twice, and then a third time until he's memorized it. He smiles to himself before sipping his tea.
It's midnight, January 1st. It's a brand new year, and like everybody else, he's made a list of new year's resolutions. He can see the list on the kitchen counter eight next to the coffee machine. It's not very long. He only has three things on it.
Park Jimin's New Year Resolutions
1. Finish writing my book
2. Read Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights (7th attempt)
3. Speak to blonde haired boy
Each year, Jimin attempts to challenge himself ever more so than the last year, and this year he finally outdid himself. Finishing his book - yes, he's writing his own novel - wouldn't be so easy. If it was, Jimin would have completed it year's ago. But he's been having some troubles lately, so he's taking a small break for the time being.
The second would be slightly less challenging, but still a struggle. Jimin had been dying to read Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë since the seventh grade, but only got his first copy of it after graduating high school. He'd never been able to finish it. Each time he tried, he'd get lost or get confused in what was happening in the story.
And the third... well that was probably the most challenging of them all. And it mostly likely wasn't going to happen. Jimin didn't have the courage to speak to the blonde haired boy next door.
He'd caught him staring at him before, either from the window or his balcony. Jimin didn't call the boy out of it thought, he just pretended not to notice. Jimin didn't really care though.
Ever since moving next door, Jimin wanted to learn more about him, but he was afraid of rejection. He so desperately wanted to talk to him, but he didn't even know what to say. Hell, Jimin didn't even know the guys name for crying out loud! How would he though? He's never said hello.
Jimin turns the page in his book and laughs a little at the following poem.
He loved poetry. It was an escape for him, as was music. There was something about poetry that made him feel warm and safe inside. A deep rumble made Jimin lookout the window. He can see the monorail zoom past in the darkness, like a sleek, silver bullet. He glances at the clock. 12:05. It was late. But it was also early. Jimin shakes his head at the thought. He notes that the snow has stopped falling and outside has fallen quiet. No more blowing snow and howling winds. It's peaceful. Jimin let's out a yawn. He should probably go to bed. But... one more poem couldn't hurt, could it?
Jimin goes to look at his boom again, but stops when he sees a tall figure in the corner of his eyes. He looks back out the window. Jimin can see him standing in his apartment, the curtains drawn back, and he's standing by the window. He's staring at something. Jimin finds himself more wide awake now, and decides that sleep can wait just a few minutes longer. Tonight, he's wearing a bright red sweater and black jeans. He had covered his hair with a beanie. Jimin wonders when he's going to dye his hair again. It was currently blonde. A few months ago it was blue and before that it was black. At one point it was even brown. Jimin smiles to himself.
And then the mystery boy is staring at him and Jimin doesn't know what to do. He's been caught looking, something that hasn't happened to wither of them before. They always looks away before the other could notice. But not tonight. Jimin has to slow his breathing to avoid freaking out. Does he look away? Does he pretend that he doesn't notice the boy staring at him? Jimin needs to do something, but not in a way that it scares him off, and makes him think he's a total freak. So without thinking, Jimin flashes him a smile and waves.