It was afternoon and everybody had just finished their lunches and gone to their respective classes. Jimin is paranoid. His hands were clammy, and he kept on tapping his feet onto the tiled floor. He was especially mindful of his surroundings, turning his attention to every shift he feels and sound he hears. He was starting to sweat, beads pooling on his temples, chocolate bangs sticking onto his forehead.

He was in front of a door with a sign that read ‘Room 309’, which was odd since Jimin is a freshman in university and most of his classes were on the first and second floors, yet he’s there on the third floor of the Music Department facing the door of a classroom that only holds junior classes. He could hear the lecture going on, the class was on ‘Music Theory’, faint sounds of shuffling, and simultaneous yawning due to the fact that nobody probably was awake wide enough to actually listen.

Jimin is nervous, and that’s really odd because Jimin is a ball of sunshine. He loves people, loves talking. It’s weird how he was just standing there, knuckles suspended midway in the air while contemplating if he should knock, until the door flew open.

There he was. A centimeter taller than Jimin in all his glory, hair the color of dusty rose, pale white skin, clad in a black V-neck shirt and ripped jeans and feet covered by a pair of old black Converse highs. Jimin was shocked, his eyes turned into saucers and the second he tried to start talking he couldn’t make out the words. The only ones coming out being “I-uh-you-cause-why”. The other just stared at him, startled at first because ‘what the fck are you doing here?’ but it all melted away into fondness and endearment. The other just smiled, and Jimin pouted unconsciously, earning him a pat on his head and his hair being ruffled. The other didn’t say anything, and just walked away.

Jimin is furious. He’d been trying to talk to his Yoongi hyung for the past few days and his efforts have come to no avail. Every time he would see him in the halls, he would call out Yoongi’s name, but the elder never responded. They have lunch together with their friends, but Yoongi always finishes his first and makes up some excuse about needing to go somewhere. His calls were always directed to voicemail so instead he texts him twice every day, in the morning and in the afternoon, but no reply ever came. His last attempt didn’t even coax out a single word from Yoongi, although it was mostly his fault for being an incoherent stuttering mess.

He’s been complaining to his best friend Taehyung, but all he got so far was a shrug, a very encouraging “You’ll be fine Jimin, he’s gotta get tired of you following him around someday.”, and an annoyingly wide grin which showed all of his teeth. Their friends don’t really know what’s going on, and they are all concerned that maybe Jimin and Yoongi got into a fight, which Jimin denied himself. Jin, being the eldest just patted Jimin’s back and gave him a reassuring smile and told him that if it was something only he and Yoongi could talk about, his friends wouldn’t try to pry. Jimin is more than thankful. The thing is, Jimin isn’t doing whatever he’s doing just for some dumb reason. He’s following Yoongi around and texts him every day because…

“One scoop strawberry cone with rainbow sprinkles and one scoop vanilla cone please.” Jimin said to the counter lady of the ice cream shop they were in. The sun was bright and they felt a sudden craving for the treat. Jimin returned to their table with a toothy grin and their desserts. He ordered strawberry with rainbow sprinkles -his usual, while Yoongi just went with plain vanilla. “Hyung you’re no fun.”, the younger said while trying to swallow the mouthful he just consumed, adding “Here have some of mine.”, while ing his cone in front of Yoongi’s face. The elder stared at him, dismissal evident in the awkward smile he was wearing. Jimin’s arms were short, but they were seated at a small table in the corner of the shop, and with his efforts to get Yoongi to taste his ice cream, the dessert ended up on his hyung’s face. “Oh my god, hyung I’m sorry.”, Jimin sputtered out immediately. Yoongi looked at his nose cross-eyed which made Jimin giggle ‘hyung is so cute’, a faint laugh hidden by the tissue papers he brought up to his face. Jimin proceeded to wiping off the ice cream on his hyung’s face as an apology. Shock was evident in Yoongi’s expression, which slowly turned into a look of pointed concentration, he was staring at Jimin. Jimin was smiling, not meeting his hyung’s eyes, too focused on wiping the ice cream off of Yoongi’s face.

“I like you.”, his hyung had said, and if they weren’t in the proximity they were in, Jimin wouldn’t have heard it. It was quiet, and soft, too soft of a tone to come out of Yoongi’s mouth, with his deep, rough voice. Jimin stopped, not quite done with his wiping, with a streak of pink still painted on Yoongi’s cheek. He looked up, and met his hyung’s eyes. Yoongi was staring directly at him, not looking like the apathetic Min Yoongi that he is. Yoongi’s gaze looked hopeful and sincere, and Jimin felt like his soul left his body already. He was frozen, he didn’t know what to do, then Yoongi smiled. It wasn’t the smile Jimin liked, it looked forced and pained. Jimin was still dumbfounded, so the elder just patted his head, stood up, and left. Jimin never felt more burdened in his life.

…Yoongi confessed to him a week ago, and he hasn’t talked to him ever since.