Chapter 4
EspressivoHe was getting tired of waiting. It had been almost half an hour—where was Park Jimin?
Tapping the wooden cover of the grand piano with his left hand, his right hand placed under his chin, he waited the younger male's arrival.
Yoongi had wanted to bombard the younger with angry text messages, but he couldn't, realising that he didn't have Jimin's number. He would need to retrieve it today. That is, if the brat came.
A pair of hurried footsteps grew louder, until they reached outside the music room Yoongi was in.
A pause.
Then, a hesitant knock. Yoongi swivelled around fully to face the door, ready to reprimand Park Jimin about punctuality.
"Come in." He commanded, to which the person on the other side obeyed as the door slowly squeaked open. Yoongi winced at the high pitched sound; they really needed to fix that door.
A head of silver hair peaked inside and looked at him, a sheepish smile on his face.
"Hey, hyung..." The younger trailed off, looking at anywhere but at Yoongi. Yoongi glared at the silver haired male; he didn't want to waste any more time.
"Are you just going to hover by the door, or come inside so we can start already?" He snapped, and Yoongi noticed that the younger flinched back slightly at the tone.
Well, he deserved it.
Jimin entered inside and silently closed the door behind—well, as silently as he could, considering the squeaky door hinges.
"You're 35—no, 36 minutes, 02 seconds late." Yoongi stated in a reprimanding tone, glancing from his watch to the younger.
"I'm really, really, really sorry, hyung! I swear I didn't mean to, I—I was even going to get out of my apartment an hour early so that I could make sure I was here before four—really! But, then Tae got home soaking wet, and so I helped him get to bed—it doesn't take him long to fall asleep, so I waited. I got out on time, and caught the bus here, and I would have definitely made it here on time—but the bus chose to break down halfway through and since I couldn't afford to lose anymore time, I ran the way here! I really am sorry hyung—I've just—I've never had the best luck when it comes to public transport. One time, I lost all of my belongings on the train on the way to Busan, and—"
"Alright! I get it, alright!" He interjected the other, mid-ramble. Subsiding his question of how long the younger could actually go on rambling for, he decided to stop him; although, he was amused.
"Sorry," Jimin mumbled, looking down at the now faded black carpet.
He couldn't help but think that Jimin was the kind of person who fretted over even the pettiest of things way too much. The black haired male sighed, and turned to face the piano again.
When he only heard silence behind him, he rolled his eyes.
At this rate, they were never going to get started with anything today.
"If you really are sorry, then get into position," he ordered the younger without so much as looking back at him. Well, he could see Jimin from the mirror, so he didn't need to.
He lifted the cover and wiped the keys lightly to get rid of any speck of dust visible, but his eyes returned to the younger behind him as the sound of rustling was heard.
Still unconsciously cleaning the instruments keys, he watched Jimin quietly, who was now walking to the centre of the large room—Yoongi thought that it would be a better place for practice for two people than the usual room he frequented in.
The younger stood in the centre awkwardly, fidgeting with his small fingers. He seemed nervous, and this confused Yoongi.
Yesterday, he seemed like an almost completely different person. He was joyful, bright, he even joined in with Hoseok to tease Yoongi (the brat).
Today however, he was quiet (with the exception of his rambling earlier), fidgety and timid, even. Almost upset, actually.
Don't ask him how but, he was just somehow able to sense it.
He'd always been quite perceptive of his surroundings; he was the kind of person who enjoyed people watching, observing other people's way of walking and talking.
You could tell a lot from how someone moves, and everyone moved differently. Also—
What was he doing? Fifty minutes had already passed and they'd done nothing yet. They needed—he needed (he noticed Jimin had been in his position for a good few minutes now)—to start.
Without warning the younger, he started playing. His pale fingers started with an E minor chord—his works always started with minor chords.
His left hand moved at its own accord across the keys, slowly but surely.
He had worked all night yesterday, and had managed to create about three compositions. He'd like to think that they'll be able to use at least one of them for the final competition, but of course, that's just Yoongi being optimistic.
It would depend on Jimin's dancing now.
He looked up at the younger, who had already started moving to the music.
He was good. But, the older male could sense some hesitance in his movements.
Their eyes met for a second, but the younger was quick to turn away and avoid Yoongi's watchful eyes.
Yoongi continued watching Jimin closely, his hands working on their own.
More hesitant movements.
Alright, he was going to need to discard this melody. He moved on to the next composition, still keeping close attention to Jimin.
This time, Jimin was slightly better at dancing than with the first, but, he still felt like it wasn't good enough.
Last composition—the same result.
Confusion flowing through him, he pondered. Jimin had danced incredibly yesterday, it had probably been the best he'd seen — so why? Why wasn't he dancing the same for his compositions?
What was so different?
This frustrated Yoongi. He abruptly stopped playing, and looked at the younger through the mirror.
"Jimin, stop." He commanded, causing the younger to stop with a jerk and stumble, before he regained balance again. Jimin looked at him with the mirror, or rather—his eyes darted around the room as he waited for Yoongi to speak.
"Let's stop here, today," he said, closing the cover over the keys and turned around. "We'll continue tomorrow, same time. I need to come up with something else before then." He mumbled the last sentence more to himself than the younger.
Standing up from the leather seat, he collected his jacket and shoulder bag, and walked towards the door.
"Oh, but we've only been in here for an hour, hyung—" The younger wasn't able to finish because Yoongi interrupted him.
"Also, give me your number. This way, it will be easier for me to find out if you're going to be running late again," he said, reaching for his phone and handing it over to the younger.
"How do you know you won't be the one that's late?" Jimin mumbled under his breath, but he had heard it clearly.
"Because, Jimin, I live five minutes away from the university," he remarked, "and even then, I spend most of my time in the Music Department, so there's no doubt that if anyone of us is going to be late, it'll most likely be you, brat." He finished with a snort.
It took less than a few seconds for Jimin to input his number into the device, before he returned it to the older.
"Ah, hyung, are you sure we can't continue? I'm sorry for messing u—" Yoongi was out of the door before the younger was allowed to finish.
The ravenette wanted to be alone, so he could think. Think about how he could make his compositions work, because something was still definitely wrong if Jimin could not manage to move to it fluidly enough.
But how was he going to do this?
a/n: is the pacing okay??? cos i really don't know xD. i'm honestly just going with the flow here tbh.
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