Chapter 18

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Jimin’s POV

It’s been a week since that day in the café, and I haven’t called or seen Jungkook for the whole seven days. I can’t bring myself to. that Lee Ji-eun, I think bitterly, remembering how she’d interrupted my moment with Jungkook, how she’d just sauntered in all happy and giggly and just planted herself in his lap like he belongs to her-

Oh wait, he does.

Something about the pure, genuine kindness that Jungkook showed me, the open affection and care despite everything I’ve done just got to me, and I was about to confess my feelings but-

Ji-eun interrupted. As of now, I’m not sure whether I should be grateful to her or not. If I’d confessed, what would’ve happened? Would Jungkook reciprocate my feelings? Would be become, I don’t know… an item? I’ve always found gay couples and such uncomfortable, weird, but there’s no doubt I’m ing in love with the kid. I sigh. Wow, Jimin. You’ve got it bad.

But if he’d rejected me? Told me I was a , that he was surprised I was capable of feeling? That’s certainly what I would do if I was Jungkook, to be honest. . I’m glad I didn’t actually confess. What I’m doing is not okay but for some reason I can’t stop. I need to see Jungkook, right now, or I think I’m going to go crazy. I consider calling the boy, but the thing is there’s no way in hell I want to actually talk to him, because talking means sharing feelings and discussing the café and what we are and I’m not ready for that. Any of that. I just need to see him. His impossibly large, warm brown eyes that physically melt me with their gaze, the way the top set of his teeth are slightly jut out when he smiles, and God, that mind-numbingly hot body. He’s cute, but there’s definitely a rather non-sixteen-year old side to him, too. My spine tingles just thinking about him, about..
Okay, I should probably stop because I can feel a hard-on just from imagining, and that’s never a good thing.

Outside, the pavements and roads are covered in a thick blanket of snow and a pale white sun shivers against a grey sky. It’s not really my type of weather- brutally cold, quiet, gloomy- but I decide to go out anyway, simply because I know that Jungkook likes talking walks in the snow. God knows why, but if he enjoys it, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t. There’s a small part of me that’s teasing me- I’m walking through ing snow just because Jungkook likes it, not that he’ll be there to appreciate my efforts anyway- but I push it to the back of my mind. Whatever. I bundle myself up in warm layer after warm layer- a plain white t-shirt (Jungkook’s favourite, how do I know that?), a light grey sweater with sleeves that slightly pass my wrists, thick coat and a scarf. I’m not taking any chances with this weather.

When I leave, I find myself walking to the park a few minutes from ym house. There’s two sides to this park- the side my friends and I usually go to- the old, abandoned skate park, with once-glossy black ramps embellished with bright graffiti that continues onto almost every brick surface there. The concrete floor is overgrown with long, grassy weeds and there’s a small building that used to be a power station, with a ladder up the side to get up to the roof. The whole space is closed in by old,  thick trees that you’d be sure to get lost in unless you’ve been through them hundreds of times, which I have.

Then there’s the other side- where I’ve only been once or twice to on family picnics or outings like that. It’s where people go to walk their dogs and where old ladies sit on benches and gossip, where happy families visit and watch their precious children toddle around without a care in the world. It’s pretty, I have to admit. The place is a lot larger than the skate park, almost endless greenery. Though of course, at this time of the year, everything’s white and the dark willow trees loom bare and leafless over the frozen  stream, branches tickling the wooden bridge I’m sure is going to fall apart any time soon. So it’s kind of a surprise to myself when I end up at this side of the park. At least I don’t have to worry about running into anyone I don’t know, I’m not in the social mood today.

Or not.

There’s a figure on the bridge, elbows resting against the hardwood railings, head of ruffled black hair bowed and staring down at the icy stream below. It’s probably one of the prettiest scenes I’ve had the oppurtunity to see. The way everything seems to spin, revolve around the one figure, the way all the trees and the snow-covered ground and every little bench reflects in the frozen water, how delicate little snowflakes tumble down from grey clouds and tangle themselves in the figure’s hair. I smile to myself. It’s Jungkook, and God, does seeing him make my heart do things.
I’m content just to stand there, shivering in the cold, watching him. He’s not wearing a coat, just a thick black sweatshirt dotted with snow and black ripped jeans tucked in boots. He looks mind-blowingly gorgeous, like something from the front cover of a romance novel. His plain diamante earrings flash in the ocassional hits of pale light from the weak sun. Jungkook lifts his head, and stretches it backwards, arms reaching up behind his back as he lets out a soft sigh. Damn, does he even know what he looks like when he does that?

He does that cute little thing where he fixes his hair, shaking his head slightly and down the fringe with the tips of his fingers. Then he reaches out a tanned hand, and watches, mesmerised, as a snowflake lands in his palm. He grins endearingly, squinting at his hand, like the snowflake is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Jungkook, I think I might be in love with you,” I whisper, mostly to myself, except it comes out as more of a murmur, and Jungkook turns his head and spots me. He looks slightly taken aback- he didn’t hear, did he? No, he’s too far. He raises a hand and beckons me over. I’m embarassed to find my face heating up despite the cold weather, and I stumble over to him on the bridge. Bloody hell, this thing’s going to collapse any second now. I wince as the wood creaks with my added weight.

“Hello, Jungkook,” I say, trying to bite back a smile. But then he full out beams, and I can’t help it.

“Hyung! I didn’t know you came here,” he says, shuffling closer to me and hugging himself. My eyes flicker to the way the black sweater clings to his muscular arms that should so not belong to a kid his age.

“I don’t… I just, dunno. Decided to come here today,” I mumble, sounding rather pathetic. Jungkook laughs, the sound like music to my ears.

“You’re so cute, hyung