“I need help,” you say with a groan, flopping onto the end of Yoongi’s sofa.

“You need all kinds of help,” he responds, not even bothering to look up from his phone. You make a whining noise, reaching over to weakly slap his thigh.

“No, I need your help,” you clarify, shifting your body to a more comfortable position.

“Is it about Jimin?”

You stiffen at the mention of the guy you’ve been crushing on for the last year. You two were assigned as partners for a school project, and he had greeted you with the world’s most beautiful smile and an angelic voice. He was super kind and caring and compassionate and smart and laughed at all your jokes and smiled at all your awkward quirks. Even after the project was over, Jimin still continued to smile and wave at you in the hallways and make occasional small talk during class which sent your heart into an overdrive. Needless to say, you had fallen for him. Hard. Harder than the time you slipped and fell while standing on top of the monkey bars on the playground. 

Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but you suppose that’s what love does to you. Or whatever.

Yoongi smirks, knowing he’s hit the bullseye. “So what is it that you need help with then? Proposing to him? Oh wait, nevermind, that’s a bit too fa—”

“Yes it’s about him, but no, Jesus, I’m not proposing to anyone just yet,” you say. “It’s just that I want you to help me be more romantic and cute and maybe less awkward because maybe then I’ll get all the courage to confess since he likes girls that are like that.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you want me to help you crack open your awkward shell to be more romantic because...Jimin likes girls like that?” Yoongi asks.

“Well, I’m pretty sure he does,” you say, burying your face into the sofa to avoid his sharp gaze.

“I’m not going to even ask how you know that,” he says, after a moment of silence.

“I’m not stalking him,” you mumble, voice muffled by the sofa cushions. “Just casually observing him.”

“Conducting reconnaissance?” Yoongi asks, amused.

“Kind of.”

“Well anyways, back to the main point here. Do you realize how much time and effort it will take me to, you know, even begin the process of making you more romantic? Time that I could be spending on other things such as playing Neko Atsume?” He holds up his phone for you to see.

You lift your head to look at him, pouting. “C’mon, Yoongi, be a good person and help your best friend out?” You give him a pleading look, which he counters with a completely deadpan expression.

The two of spend a few moments in silence, locked in an intense staring battle, until he finally relents. He sets his phone down on the coffee table in front of him. “Okay, fine, but I want you to know that I can only help you so much in this process. You’re the one who has to make all the key moves,” he warns, pointing a finger at you.

“Yes, yes, I know, thanks so much,” you say, giddy.

“Well,” Yoongi says, grabbing his phone off the table and moving to get his keys. “Let’s get started then. We’ve a long way to go.” He shoots you a playful glare.

//

“So our first ‘lesson’ is at a bookstore?” you ask, confused. You’re trailing behind Yoongi as he pushes open the heavy glass doors.

“Yes,” he says, not looking back. “Now hurry up.”

He leads you through the bookstore, smelling of coffee and paper, to the romance novels section. The classic romance novels section, to be specific.

“Okay, so the way this works is that I’ll first choose a book from the shelf and then say a quote from it, and then you follow. Got it?” he asks.

You nod. “So, am I supposed to get the book after you finish talking or—”

“No, no,” Yoongi says, cutting you off. “Get the book while I’m talking, then say the quote as soon as I’m done. The process is supposed to be fluid, dreamy even. Oh right, but then one of us has to say a super awe-inspiring quote that takes our breaths away and creates a halt. So when that happens, we gotta look at each other with lovesick eyes and smile and then try and sputter out words to save the moment from being swallowed—“ he pauses dramatically, closing his eyes—“by the silence.”

You stare at him, confused. When Yoongi’s caught up in the moment, he tends to get super dramatic. “Um, okay,” is all you say, still struggling to understand.

He gives you an exasperated sigh. “It’ll make more sense when we start.” And with that, he grabs a book from the shelf. “I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. You are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre,” he says, snapping the book shut with a flourish.

You look around the shelves, panicking slightly because you still haven’t found a suitable book yet.

He sighs. “Here, use this one.” He shoves a paperback into your hands.

“Thanks, I didn’t know which one to choose,” you say, relieved, flipping to a random page. “None of them caught my eye. Do I just say a random quote from here?”

“Next time, you can just grab one from the shelf; they should all be good enough. And yes,” he replies, already moving away to grab another book.

“When you fall in love, it is temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides,” you mumble. Quickly, you flip to the front cover. “Mandolin, by Louis de...Ber..nieres..?” you say, struggling to pronounce the author’s name. You look at Yoongi for approval.

He simply grunts, seemingly satisfied, in your direction. “Louis de Bernieres. Not a bad quote for your first try.”

You nod and quickly scramble to find a book, determined to get it right this time.

“I’ve never had a moment’s doubt. I love you,” Yoongi says, voice soft. “I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one, my reason for life. Atonement, by Ian McEwan.”

You fumble to get your book open, eyes frantically scanning the glossy pages.

“Heat oil in a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat and add diced potatoes, onion, bell pepper, corn, and garlic,” you say, hastily. “The Best of America, Coast-to-coast cooking favorites.”

You set the book down, waiting for Yoongi to begin his quote. But a few moments pass and nothing happens, so you glance over to him. He’s standing a few feet away, giving you a look of utter disbelief; you register that maybe this is the halt he was talking about earlier, the one that comes after someone says an awe-inspiring quote. Was that quote really that good? You your lips. The recipe actually didn’t seem so bad, and the photo of the food looked absolutely amazing—

“___________, what the ,” Yoongi says, finally managing to find words. He looks like he’s torn between laughing and crying in utter despair. “You’re supposed to be quoting romance novels, not cooking books.”

Nevermind, you guess it wasn’t a great quote afterall.

You frown, looking at the large hardcover in between your hands. “But you said I could pick any boo—”

“Yes, because I assumed that they were all romance novels,” he replies, clearly annoyed. “This thing is supposed to be romantic.”

“Food can be pretty romantic,” you mumble, grumpily.

“Yeah, well, can you date food?”

“There’s a guy who’s married to a pizza.”

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh. “Sure, but I hope you realize we’re doing this so you don’t end up having to marry a pizza instead of the guy of your dreams,” he says. “Since this didn’t work out so well, let’s try something else.”

“But what if I want to marry a pizza?”

“_________, we both know you don’t want to.”

You pout, because there’s no way you can deny it this time.

//

The two of you are sprawled out on your sofa; Yoongi listens, bored, as you recount your latest experience with Jimin. “And he smiled at me and asked questions about me and laughed at my super lame pun,” you say, dreamily.

“Yes, amazing,” he says, voice apathetic, already used to this. He’s playing Neko Atsume.

“No, but that’s not all,” you say, excited. “He even walked with me to my locker just so we could keep on talking. Or at least, I think that’s why. But in any case, he didn’t have to and my locker is you know, a bit far from the main exit, which he usually uses.”

“Wow,” Yoongi says, sounding very unimpressed.

“Yeah, I know,” you say.

“You know Jimin really likes you, I don’t understand why either of you guys can just confess already,” he says.

“Because,” you whine. “It’s not that easy! And you don’t know for sure if he does.”

“But it’s so obvious to me, a casual outside observer!” Yoongi cries out, frustrated.

“Oh come on, you’re still biased,” you say. “You know that I like him, so you’re still going to be paying extra attention to any gestures that even remotely suggest he likes me as well. And, if you’re drawing conclusions off of my stories, that’s even more biased.”

He groans, flinging a pillow out to the side. “Plus,” you say, deflecting the pillow. “Why would Jimin like me? I’m an awkward potato that poorly fits his ideal of a romantic girl.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Yoongi says, giving you a look.

“Yeah but he seems like the kind of guy who woul—”

“EXACTLY,” he shouts, springing to his feet. “You readily accept the fact that he likes girls who are romantic and cutesy because he seems to like it. So why can’t you accept the fact that he likes you because it really really REALLY seems like he does?”

You let out a frustrated noise; when that doesn’t help, you scream into the pillow a couple times. He simply stares, expressionless, as you curl into the sofa.

A silence settles over the room.

“Okay fine, I’ll confess,” you finally grumble, face pressed into the sofa cushion.

He lets out a satisfied hum. “Tomorrow.”

//

“Hey Jimin, what’s up?” you ask brightly. You’re pretty sure your voice is three octaves too high, and suddenly you’re self-conscious about your hair. As casually as you can possibly manage in your jittery state, you push back your hair in a move that you hope looks natural but judging from the look on Jimin’s face it was…...not.

Nonetheless, he still returns the greeting.  “Hey, _________.” He smiles, corners of his eyes crinkling. Suddenly, you lose all bearings and your mind falls into a panicked jumble.

Please Subscribe to read the full chapter