just a small warning: there are swear words in this chapter! i hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable.

Chapter 5: best mistake

But I hate you, I really hate you,
So much, I think it must be

After rushing off from his consultation and knocking over a few books, Jimin steps out into the night, the wind biting into his skin. He remembers Yoongi’s warm, safe arms around himself. He can still smell his musky, woody cologne on top of the fresh scent of laundry.

Cliché as it sounds, but Jimin feels a million butterflies fluttering in him, sending a tingling sensation down his spine. Somehow, the thought of Yoongi feels warmer than the thick scarf wrapped around his neck.

Jimin walks in to Taehyung sitting with Jungkook and discussing about the latter’s project. His help is not needed after all.

Idly standing at the doorway, Jimin folds his arms, an amused smile spread over his face. He watches as Taehyung occasionally barks with laughter upon hearing Jungkook’s suggestions before calming down and offering another better idea. Turns out Taehyung is not only good at getting people to open up; he is also excellent at his studies, good enough to shut Jungkook up and make him listen to whatever he is saying.

Jungkook finally notices Jimin’s presence when he stands up to get some snacks. He jumps a little before approaching him.

“Hyung, when did you get here?” Jungkook asks and pulls him inside the small apartment. Taehyung greets Jimin with a big smile and he waves back with an equally huge smile.

“A few minutes ago. Don’t worry about me, you can continue with whatever you’re doing,” Jimin answers and settles onto the couch, letting out a yawn.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” Jungkook says and hurries to the fridge. Jimin stares at Jungkook while raising a brow. He leans towards Taehyung.

“He isn’t this polite usually. You’ve changed him,” Jimin whispers into his left ear and Taehyung giggles.

By the time Jimin returns to his room, it is already one in the morning and his eyelids are heavier than the weight of all his textbooks combined. He sheds off his clothes and pounces onto his soft bed, closing his eyes and letting himself drift into sleep.

When Jimin wakes up the next morning, he jumps out of bed screaming his head off.

“!” he yells so loud that he scares himself.

His phone reads 10:03; his first class is supposed to start at 10:15. He brushes his teeth in record speed, dresses in whatever clothes he can find on the floor, grabs his bag and dashes towards the lecture building. He reaches just in time and slinks into one of the seats at the back of the lecture theatre.

As he opens his bag to get his notebook out, he notices a brown book amongst all the clutter. He does not remember owning such a book. He takes it out and stares at it in confusion. It is a leather bound notebook and it looks like it costs an arm and a leg. At the top right hand corner of the cover, there are initials carved with perfect penmanship.

When Jimin looks closer, his mouth falls into an O shape.

M.Y.G

It dawns upon him.

He looks at the book with a newfound curiosity and his hands itch to flip the book open. However, he hesitates, his hands hovering above the book. After all, it’s not polite to look through someone’s things, is it?

His heart tells him to open the book immediately, that there is nothing to be afraid of.

His conscience pricks at him, telling him to leave the book alone.

Finally, Jimin bites his lips and follows his heart. He quickly unbinds the book.

Just one glance, Park Jimin.

He looks down at the small book and feels the rough paper as well as the indents made by the pen markings. It is definitely Yoongi’s handwriting.

Something feels strange. This is not a normal notebook.

Jimin’s eyes fall upon the date scribbled at the top of the page.

9 March 2011

He scans the words that follow.

Mood: very confused 

He knows he should not continue reading, but he cannot stop.

Dear Diary,

Every part of Jimin’s conscience tells him to close the book immediately and return it to its owner. He knows he is not supposed to read any further than that. However, his eyes are stubborn and he cannot help himself from looking at the next line.

It’s my 21^st birthday today. I’m supposed to feel happy. He even gave me this book. It looks like it costs a bomb.

One more line will never hurt anyone.

But I’m gay and I like my best friend.

He should not have done it. Covering his mouth, he suppresses a loud gasp. It feels like he just trampled upon someone’s secret garden; something Yoongi wants to hide from the world and away from prying eyes, prying eyes like Jimin’s.  

He closes the book with a loud thud, earning glares from the people around him, but Jimin cannot care less. He leans back against the seat, his heart racing and his palms clammy, beads of cold sweat trickling down his forehead. He ties back the leather bind with trembling fingers. Throughout the entire lecture, one thought occupies Jimin’s mind.

Min Yoongi likes guys. 

Jimin does not know why but this one thought causes his heart to somersault violently.

Is it shock, disbelief or even… relief?

Jimin has no idea himself.

There is one thing Jimin is certain about: Yoongi does not need to know about this.

When the lecture ends, with the professor reminding them about their assignment due the next week, Jimin gathers his belongings and runs out of the room, towards the direction of the staff room.

He needs to find him.

He spots the professor who is always together with Yoongi during lunch and stops him in his tracks. “Do you know where Mr. Min is?” he gushes and takes in deep breaths to steady himself.

“He is sick today, so he is resting at the dormitory,” said professor replies with a small smile, looking at the sweaty student with curiosity.

Jimin sprints towards the dormitories after thanking the professor. His heartbeat is in sync with his quick footsteps. He decides that the leather notebook can wait, because Yoongi is sick.

Before heading towards his destination, Jimin makes a detour and goes to the mart. He exits with a bag in his hand and a jumpy heart.

Jimin stops in front of the stone building, his grip on the plastic bag tight and his hair plastered onto his dripping forehead. He takes a deep breath and enters.

“Hi, I’m looking for Mr. Min Yoongi,” he tells the receptionist in a quiet voice.

The scary-looking lady with glasses picks up the phone and dials a number. “Mr. Min, there’s a student looking for you,” the lady informs after the line gets through. “He asks for your name,” she says to Jimin.

“Park Jimin,” he replies shakily.

The lady directs him to the room and he thanks her before making his way to the fifth floor. It feels like eternity before the elevator stops and the door opens noisily. Jimin’s legs are shaking as he steps out and turns left, stopping at a black door which reads ‘Min Yoongi’.

He hesitates for one, two seconds, every nerve in him telling him to drop the bag and run away. He raises his shivering arm and feels as if his legs are about to crumble anytime.

His fist lands on the door, creating a soft thud. He hears footsteps coming from the room and he closes his eyes.

“Jimin?”

He is greeted by Yoongi’s deep, raspy voice as the door opens with a loud creak. Jimin forces his eyes open and stares straight into Yoongi’s brown orbs.

“Hyung,” Jimin’s voice comes out as a wheeze and he digs his toes into his sneakers, silently cursing himself, “I heard you were sick, so I came here.”

Jimin is still staring into Yoongi’s eyes and he watches as they transform into two lines as he breaks out into a gummy smile.

“You didn’t have to, Jimin.”

“Feel better soon!” the younger boy exclaims and pushes the bag of things he bought into Yoongi’s arms. “We still have lessons tomorrow,” he adds.

Yoongi nods and laughs, “Glad to see you enjoy my lessons.”

When Jimin hears Yoongi laugh, all thoughts of the diary are abandoned and forgotten. All he wants right now is to see Yoongi smile again.

His smile is like sugar and Jimin has a sweet tooth.

The professor opens the bag and empties out its contents. A box of herbal tea and a card falls onto the wooden table. A corner of Yoongi's lip is tugged up as he picks up the card gently, as if it is a fragile object.

“I can’t believe you’re sick. You seemed fine yesterday. Anyway, get well soon hyung! See you tomor-” he reads out loud, imitating Jimin's voice, and breaks out into another bigger gummy smile but his sentence gets cut off when Jimin snatches the card out of his hands, whining loudly.

“Hyung, that’s for you to read in private!” he raises his voice slightly and his cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of pink. Yoongi reaches out to ruffle his soft hair and his laugh echoes around the apartment before it turns into a coughing fit.

Quickly grabbing a sachet of herbal tea, Jimin rushes into the kitchen and places it into a cup of hot water before going back to Yoongi and placing the drink in his freezing hands. Their fingers brush against each other and Jimin feels his cheeks burning again. Yoongi mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ and gulps the tea down.

He places the cup down and turns towards Jimin, “Thank you for visiting me, brat.”

 Jimin shakes his head and manages a small smile.

Anything for you, hyung.

Suddenly, he remembers his initial purpose of visiting Yoongi. He breathes heavily and reaches for his bag, pulling out the small notebook. Catching sight of it, Yoongi’s eyes widen noticeably and he lunges forward, grabbing the book.

“Jimin, where did you find this book?”

Jimin flinches at Yoongi’s tone. He mumbles, “I accidentally took it when I was leaving yesterday. Sorry, hyung.” Yoongi studies the notebook, checking for any signs of damage. Finally, his vision lands upon the leather bind. He stares at it for a few seconds, then he starts frowning.

“Did you open the book?” his voice now is dangerously low and Jimin can sense the imminent explosion. It’s almost like the calm before a storm and Jimin freezes at his spot.

“I-I did,” he confesses, almost whimpering.

Letting out a deep sigh, Yoongi snorts, “So you know about it?”

Jimin knows. He knows what he is referring to, yet he remains silent and bites his quivering lips, tears b his eyes.

He should not have done it.

“You know don’t you, Park Jimin? You know that I’m ing gay, don’t you?” the professor hisses and he leans forward so much that his face almost touches the younger boy’s face. If it is any other day, it would have caused the latter to hyperventilate from their intimacy but Jimin can see the boiling rage in his eyes and he winces. His eyes burn from the hot tears he tries hard to keep back and he squeezes them shut, unable to face the professor any longer.

“Leave,” Yoongi whispers.

Jimin nods meekly and scampers out of the apartment, in such a hurry to leave that he does not shut the door behind him. Upon reaching before the elevator, he hears a deafening slam. He covers his face with both hands.

The tears he has been fighting back pour down his cheeks and he wipes them away with the sleeve of his sweater, feeling as if his heart has been ripped out of his chest. He closes his eyes, the look of disappointment and disgust on Yoongi’s face imprinted at the back of his eyelids, causing Jimin to clutch his chest tightly, his heart being shattered into uncountable shards. He staggers into the elevator, falls onto the floor, buries his face into his shaking palms and lets out a muffled howl.

"I'm sorry," Jimin sobs, staring at the grey wall in front of him blankly.

"I love you," he mutters to himself, smiling.

Forgive me, he types into his phone and presses the 'send' button before letting his arm fall limply to his side.

a/n: do you feel like killing me now

because i feel like stabbing myself in the stomach

i can't believe i cried writing my own story smh

i love yoonmin