BURNING RED .
TAEHYUNG .
Dilapidated tangents of milk flow across surfaces of grime; glorious spillages sprawling across every crevice of marble. Bored eyes ascertain every diluted feature of the spilled liquid as it seeps in rivulets of ivory, the stream lacking in pigment and reeking with the fetor of supple lipase. In such a malaise induced state of mind, there's such woe that can be uncovered in the drizzles of spilled milk.
"Namjoon! Get out the damn kitchen, I'm trying to cook...it's difficult when you're constantly just flittering behind me." Jin gushes, ushering the culprit further toward the mess he'd made.
Namjoon doesn't say anything in response, taking full responsibility for his actions. I watch, with accidie prominent in my posture, leaning my chin on the table and trailing my fingertips through the patch of milk. Despite how joyous I had been prior to this situation, I suddenly feel lacking. I feel a tad less wholesome; my body shrivelling in on itself, as if something is missing.
Or somebody.
It's stupid, it's so stupid.
Why must a stranger make me feel so empty when he's not around? Why must that boringly beautiful smile linger in my mind's eye like this?
It's not fair.
Humans aren't supposed to be infatuated so easily; it's meant to take years of dedication, years of loyalty and love. One shouldn't simply feel longing for a body that's three weeks new to them.
It wasn't supposed to be like this !
The only way to gain somebody like Park Jimin is to open up, to share vulnerability and make him comfortable. But sharing the truth has made me too tender and too open toward him.
I haven't felt this dreadful giddiness since I first established a crush on somebody of the male species. Back then, they were just excited jitters; a wonderful declaration of homosexuality.
But they were foolish emotions.
Only fools fall for imbeciles.
And these treacherous butterflies of longing only bring forth those horrible memories. They bring back all of that pain; all of that blood, shed like a snake's skin; all of those emotions I'd sworn not to feel anymore.
For that, Park Jimin, I hate you.
Well, strongly dislike you.
Slightly dislike you.
Mildly.
I like you.
Okay, I like you.
I like you a lot.
"Taehyung!" Namjoon snaps his fingers in front of my eyes and I lazily bring my chin from the table, sending my eyes up toward him, "you were having one hell of a daydream."
"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you so deep in thought." Jin comments, his mood clearly slightly uplifted.
"Is that a jab at my stupidity? 'Cause, honestly, I'm immune to any insult you throw at me anymore, Seokjin." I reply briefly, running despondent fingers through my hair.
It's as I catch a glimpse of myself in the light reflecting against the glistening of the window, that I realise how bored of silver I'm becoming. Silver is second place, right?
I'm not second place.
I shan't let imbeciles place me under such a bracket.
"Gah, he's doing it again," Namjoon whines in slight mockery.
I stare at him through vacant eyes, casting my attention to the lame tick of the clock face as Jin ponders over a response. I scarcely notice his presence behind me, until his arm wraps around me and his fingers squeeze my cheek, "thinking about Jimin~?"
Glowering, I move my face from his hand, feeling slight apprehension at the prospect of such a suggestion from him, "no."
"Who's Jimin?" Namjoon questions, finally clearing his mess.
"Jimin is the boy I found Taehyung tangled up with after work today." Jin chuckles, "he's cute - like, really cute."
Namjoon raises a playful eyebrow, "that so? Is there some sort of competition going on here?"
"Perhaps, he has pink hair 'nd all."
I almost gag at their flirtatious tones, feeling an immaculate sense of intrusion - as if my presence is slowly deteriorating in their lovestruck views, "blah! Get a room, jesus, some of us have innocence!"
"Tae, this is our house and technically all the rooms are our's." Namjoon replies, aggravatingly smartly.
"And who are you to talk about innocence?" Jin adds, as if to spite me.
Irritable, and not in the mood to vent my frustration, I stand before things get too heated. Besides, their lovey-dovey attitudes are beginning to make me feel sick.
"I'm going to get my hair dyed." I announce.
Jin gives me a stupendous look, cocking his head, "Taehyung, it's seven o'clock."
"And?"
"The barbers won't be open."
"Shows what you know," I stick my tongue out and march out the kitchen, "later losers!"
As soon as I leave, a vast drive of cold shocks my system; shivers collectively seething down my spine and sparking goosebumps against my tanned skin.
I dye my hair when my confidence in myself or my emotions is lacking; when the world just grows too overbearing and it feels as if my existence is melting in with the scenery.
I dye my hair when I feel like I'm lacking in love, truly believing that a coat of vibrance will gloss over any slight insecurity within.
°•ิ.•
TAEHYUNG [21:02] :
hey jimin
TAEHYUNG [21:02] :
jimin guess what
TAEHYUNG [21:03] :
jimin
JIMIN [21:05] :
what ?
TAEHYUNG [21:06] :
you're supposed to guess
TAEHYUNG [21:06] :
silly billy
JIMIN [21:06] :
gah idk
JIMIN [21:07] :
you got a job ?
JIMIN [21:07] :
you're moving away ?
JIMIN [21:07] :
ooo you bought me a puppy ?!
TAEHYUNG [21:07] :
no even better
JIMIN [21:07] :
better than a puppy ?!
JIMIN [21:07] :
* le gasp *
TAEHYUNG [21:08] :
ok not quite
TAEHYUNG [21:08] :
but...........
TAEHYUNG [21:08] :
TAAADAAAA!!!!!
JIMIN [21:08] :
holy shit
_
tysm for 1k ohmyyyy xxxxxx