05 why don't the equations add up

Taehyung felt unreasonably angry.  He had a girlfriend.  Hadn’t he gotten a girlfriend so Irene would have no misunderstanding?  He had no business to meddle with Irene’s life, yet he still felt angry the moment he saw through the apartment window that Yoongi drop off Irene.  It was a like a surge of anger which stemmed from his gut and ran all the way up his spine. 

He wanted so very much to take Irene by the hand and run away, so no other man realised how precious she was, how lovely she was underneath her cold exterior.  But he couldn’t.  He held his expression and clutched his fist as Hoseok had excitedly asked Irene for more details.

He studied her relaxed expression as she deflected all of Hoseok’s attempts for specifics.  But the way she avoided eye contact, her dark brown eyes staring down at the floor instead of looking at Hoseok, that was a quirk that Taehyung knew well of.  Anytime Irene was trying to hide something or was trying to redirect conservation because she felt uncomfortable, she would stare at the floor when conserving.

Was it because she liked this Yoongi?  From his observation out the window, he seemed too scrawny and unreliable.  But he couldn’t deny how much she was controlling her expression.  When their eyes met, Taehyung could not help but feel the growing distance between them. 

When they were children, the gazes to each other was always filled with understanding and silent exchanges.  They just always knew what the other person was saying.  But now, Taehyung understood nothing and he knew he could not show what he was feeling either. 

The moment had passed and Irene had gone back to her room to get ready for her classes.  How many times did Taehyung have to feel this way?  The feeling of losing Irene over and over again. 

 - - -

The final assignment submission for Irene’s university project was coming up and Irene felt like she was nowhere complete with her work.  She had blocked all the temptation of going out despite Hoseok whining at her all the time and spent most of her time holed up at the art studio at her university. 

Irene was clearly at the “I don’t give a about how I look so judge me for all I care” stage of being at university, she didn’t bother with any makeup, even her favourite red stain lipstick was left untouched on her vanity.  There was only moisturiser and sunblock on her face, her eye bags clearly prominent and her hair in a messy high ponytail to keep it from disrupting her and her main focus.  And that was, her unfinished watercolour project for the final submission. 

She didn’t know how many times she had started and restarted her work.  She tugged frustrated at the edges of her brown apron she wore to keep her clothes from being covered in paint.  She stared at her current work; she had currently painted a nightime city landscape with shades of indigo blue and dashes of orange and yellow to emulate the city lights. 

It was an “ok” piece of work, but Irene felt like there was no inspiration or feeling in it at all.  She sighed to herself again, even with her the blasting of her favourite artist, Nell into the earphones didn’t seem to help inspire her today.

She felt a light tap on her shoul