~9~

Still.

Perfectly still.

Mijin Brown had simply sat there. 

The contrast ever so beautiful to her jade gaze as it had carefully yet all at once dove in the courtyard below. At first, seemingly uncertain, it had sped through it all. It had woven its way through every hidden touch and bold cackle with disdain. It had coiled around every longing gaze and disheartened expression with fleeting interest. Yet, it had lingered on every unexplainable action.

A discarded leaf dancing in a mop of unruly hair.

An awkward pause in a seemingly determined strut.

An unexpected hug.

Slightly cocking her head to the side, for the first time that morning, she reached forward. Her fingers gently grazing the glass before her as it drew the outline of this sudden exchange. Though she could not see the eyes of the person behind this situation, their back betrayed it all. It beamed with joy that their awkward bump of limbs seemed unable to portray. Though they stood as one, it was all one-sided. Rather, it seemed one-sided from where Mijin watched.

So much so that it was painful to watch.

Yet, her gaze never broke free.

Instead, it latched onto this picture.

It endlessly painted it across her next canvas.

“Ask your questions or stare at me, Tae.”

After all, the dissonance of it all was beautifully chaotic.

“Don’t do the latter.”

Therefore, distracting beyond words.

“It’s a free country, Miss Brown.”

Just as she had hoped.

“It’s my face.”

Her words finished in the slight brush of Taehyung’s lips against her cheek.

“And what a face it is,” he smiled before kissing her once more.

“We’ve discussed these kisses,” she noted with a well-aimed kick to his shin.

“And they remain as platonic as the first day,” he rolled his eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “Unless, of course, you become my model for one of my projects or better yet, volunteer to write my paper for me.”

“I’ll pass,” she giggled as he slightly poked her cheek. “I’m not even halfway done with mine, Tae.”

“Do tell me how the best friend of the top philosophy major of our year is not done with her paper on Epicureanism in Contemporary Art?”

The same way that the best friend of the top philosophy major of their year was not spending her weekend with him.

Though the words never left her lips, they clouded her thoughts as perfectly as they had for the past week. After all, though she had begged Taehyung to let her tag along to his trip to the library on a Saturday afternoon; she had done nothing but stare at a window since they’d arrived.

Three hours ago.

Her gaze only lingering on unexpected pauses, because hers had been carefully etched out to avoid it all.

Every step to lunch had been erased in perfect tune with the memory of the rise and fall of his chest against hers. Every smile had faded with the feel of his skin against her lips. Every placid text message had been the bittersweet reminder of the hurt in his eyes. All because their lips had only found their respective cheeks.

Nothing less.

Nothing more.

“Joonie has his own paper to finish.”

Yet, Namjoon had clearly wanted more.

“When has Namjoon not found time to help his Mimi?” Taehyung teased as he nudged her shoulder.

“I shouldn’t let it become a habit,” she nodded before looking down at her closed notebook.

“Isn’t your conscience a few years too late, Miss Brown?”

“Is it?”

Her voice had barely been a whisper.

Carefully drawn out in the confines of her campus library; lost in a gentle flutter of turning pages and scattered clicks, it remained her own. Heavy with her derision, it stared back at her as it latched around . After all, no matter how hard she willed herself to believe it, she had long left the fragile period that was innocence.

The equation was now simple.

A hug now held the tangible web of endless suppositions and the delectable pull of that existed between a man and a woman.

“He’s my friend.”

Namjoon was a man.

“He’s my best friend.”

Mijin was a woman.

“He’s my Kim Namjoon.”

No longer children, their every action now held emotions that they could act upon as they pleased.

“Surely, I can’t be late, Tae.”

In every sense of the term.

 “I can’t be.”

That simple fact, as benign as it may be, would be their downfall.

“What makes you say that, Mimi?”

The feel of Namjoon’s hand gently cupping her cheek.

His forehead gently resting against hers as he’d leaned closer.

Three special words that hadn’t made her forget those locked away on her phone.

“Mijin?”

A loud clatter echoed around the room as she got to her feet.

So much so that Taehyung could only blink back at her as she reached down for her canvas bag. Though twice her size, she still handled it to perfection as she slung it over her shoulder, “I don’t feel like answering that, but I do feel like coffee.”

“I don’t feel like coffee,” Taehyung insisted before folding his arms across his chest. “However, I do feel like finishing my paper and hearing your answer.”

“Didn’t you have a date in,” she paused as she looked down at her watch. “30 minutes?”

“30 minutes where I could be writing,” he nodded as she slightly bit her lower lip. “Or better yet, hearing if Namjoon kissing you is the reason you’re questioning my kissing you and ignoring my very simple question.”

“He didn’t kiss me.”

“Then what the hell happened?”

She pursed her lips at him.

He raised an expectant eyebrow.

Hence, her defeated sigh as she reached forward. Had the situation been different, she would have giggled at someone Taehyung’s size, side-eyeing her hands with such disdain. Still, she shook her head and hooked her fingers around the cuffs of his sweater. Smiling, she slightly rocked them from side to side, “The answer and coffee. My treat.”

“You do realize that I’ll be having coffee with my date?” Mijin nodded as Taehyung slightly puffed his cheeks. “You do realize that all this intake of coffee is bad for my health?”

“Since when have you cared about your health?” She blinked.

“Since my mother and father took the time and effort to bring me to this world with this face,” he tried before chuckling against her slight punches to his chest.

“I’ll grab a book, real quick,” she stuck her tongue out at him as he made a face. “See you at the entrance.”

“I never said yes, Miss Brown.”

“You love me too much to say no, Mr. Kim.”

His slight chuckle began in her finger slightly tapping the tip of his nose; and ended in her petite figure walking away from him. His smile falling into a sigh as quickly as the thought of a taller Mr. Kim dissolved into thin air.

Yet, as she walked, Mijin could still feel him there.

She could still see Namjoon guiding her through every corner and every shelf of this library. Though, at the time, she had been more interested in the peculiar people she had seen hiding in every aisle; she could now clearly hear his voice. Every high and low, as his gruff tone betrayed his interests as varied and questionable as they were.

All the way down to this specific aisle.

The beginning of the end for every philosophy major.

A slight giggle escaped her lips as she thought back to the despair in his voice. So much so that she had to clear before raising a finger to the shelves. Humming to herself, she walked along as slowly as she remembered.

“Epicurus once said ‘Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not’.”

Her steps carefully matching his.

“’Remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for’.”

Her eyes carefully following his finger.

“I know that as an artist, this goes against what you aspire for but, please remember this when you feel like you’re about to fly too far away from reality.”

Her lips easily smiling at his words.

“Let this be my Mimi’s anchor to me.”

Her feet stopping inches away from his as they looked up to the very book behind those words. Those words that he had endlessly repeated that day. Those words that had fueled her self-doubts into a then endless and now irrecuperable passion for drawing. Those words that he had been the first to discard a week ago, despite all that it meant to them. Those words that now echoed through all of her as, from the other side of the shelf, she looked back into a sparkling dark gaze that she had only hoped for.

Her first thought had been to shove the book back into the shelf.

So, she had.

Her second thought, had been to pull out the book and apologizing for shoving it back at him.

So, she had.

However, her third thought had been that her first thought had been the better thought of the second thought.

So, she peeked from behind the book.

“A simple hey would have sufficed.”

She could only bite her lip as she slightly brought the book down, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he nodded back at her.

“Hey,” she repeated once more.

“Let me guess, you’re going to wear a green cap and don an Italian accent next?” He lightly chuckled.

“Mario’s cap is red,” she noted as she cocked her head to the side. 

“But Luigi’s cap would go perfectly with your eyes,” he mused.

“It’s not the right shade,” she grinned despite herself.

“Isn’t it?”

It wasn’t.

It sincerely wasn’t.

However, the daunting curve of Min Yoongi’s lips, as slight and gentle as the giggles that left her lips once more, made it all insignificant. All that mattered was that slight gap between these endless shelves of books around them. That slight space that allowed her to meet his feline gaze for the first time in weeks.

“You didn’t answer my text.”

Though hushed, his voice remained as gruff as she remembered. Yet, she heard him loud and clear as she looked back at him. Slightly hunched, he seemed to make the space his own as he expectantly waited for her answer. So much so that a smile tickled the corners of her lips as he slightly raised an eyebrow back at her, “I forgot.”

“You forgot?” He whispered as he slowly stood straight.

“It didn’t seem urgent,” she shrugged, and he shrugged right back.

“Maybe it was.”

The scoff that left her lips was undeniable.

After all, there was only so much she could do as she stared back at pages of a book. However, before she could even process what had happened, her phone chimed. Tucking her book under her arm, she freely took in Taehyung’s frustration also known as his favorite angry chihuahua sticker. She could only sigh at this before preparing to lock her phone once more.

All before her finger hovered over Min Yoongi’s simple text message.

‘Coffee or Tea’.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Slightly biting her lower lip, she let her finger roam back and forth over her home button. Indecisiveness couldn’t even begin to describe her attitude towards this simple text. However, it failed to embody the number of possibilities she would unlock as soon as she’d hit send, “Are you going to forget to reply again?”

Her breath slightly caught as she turned to her side.

Only to come to a stand-still as she peered up at Yoongi. Though his eyes were hidden by his dark locks, their gazes still seamlessly found one another. So much so that she all but forgot his question as she literally discovered him in a new light. To say that the campus library needed to replace its lighting was an understatement. However, just this once, Mijin was ready to forgive it. After all, there was something incredibly captivating about the ease with which Yoongi seemed to attract all available light. Flickers of color trapped themselves in a game of cat and mouse as they danced across his hair; before losing themselves to the depths of his never-ending gaze.

Yet, the cat never reacted.

He simply smiled.

“Did you just forget to reply, Mijin Brown?”

So, did she.

“Maybe?”

His chuckles began in the slight bite of her lower lip; before ending in her raised index to her lips as the librarian walked past them. Slightly bowing, they were now left with nothing but smiles as she looked up at him.

“In my defense, you just left me hanging,” she pointed out.

“Would you have preferred that we keep speaking through shelves?” Her answer was on the tip of her tongue; but she bit it back as he chuckled once more. “What are you looking for?”

“Inspiration,” she managed as he nodded.

“Are you sure this is the section where you should be looking for inspiration?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked around them.

“I’m exactly where I need to be, Min Yoongi,” she teased before lightly hitting his chest with her book. “Unlike you, soon-graduating-person-that-should-not-be-seen-on-campus-these-days.”

“How would you know this, Mijin Brown?” Her pursed lips and obvious friendship with his brother said enough for the two of them. “Alright,” he chuckled before lightly flicking her forehead. “I had some work on campus this morning, but my camera’s battery died. So, believe it or not, I came to read.”   

“If your battery died, why not just take pictures with your body?”

“With my body?”

There were words for the adorable scrunch of Min Yoongi’s nose.

There truly were but, in the face of what she held dear, Mijin Brown hardly gave a damn.

She simply, and with utmost sincerity, nodded back at him.

“Before letting others into your world, into your perspective, you felt it all. They will only feel whatever you wish to convey, if you truly understood it to its core. Above everything else, you are your own camera, Min Yoongi.”

True, he was her senior by 2 years.

True, she hardly worked with cameras or computers.

However, no matter the field, these were the basics of what they were as artists.

There was no pretense in their work.

Even as they tried to lie, it was disturbingly jarring to the professional, even more so common, eye. Therefore, they could do nothing but bare themselves in the truest form that they could reach. Be it gruesome or exquisite, the artist needed the approval to come from himself before letting others into his work. The outside world, though quick to think it could partake, had no say in an artworks’ true beauty or value, because it was not theirs.

It was the artist’s.

All because they were at the heart of it all.

If they were not there, their art could not be.

Not even a twin could replace them.

That was what thrilled them beyond the mere touch of their final production.

That was what left them misunderstood and chilled to the bone as they seemed to pursue something that was blind to mere folk.

That was the overwhelming beauty of their field.

So much so that Mijin could hardly fight an excited giggle as she rattled on, “You have eyes to see; ears to hear; a tongue to taste; a nose to smell; hands, feet and even lips to touch!”  

“How would my lips be my camera, Mijin Brown?”

Truth be told, she had only wanted to make a point.

It had all happened slowly.

Slowly and then all at once.

“Like this.”

Her feet had pulled her forward before her book had slipped from her hands. Only for her nose to brush against his before her fingers had found the curls at the back of his neck. So much so that their lips had slightly grazed even before her eyes had closed. However, as though perfectly meditated, that last breath between them was never closed.

It simply hung there.

Palpable beyond repair.

“Photographer or painter, with what we have,” she slowly etched out. “We do as we wish.”

“Like this,” he repeated as he slightly leaned forward.

“Like this.”

A slight thud echoed through the space they had created for themselves.

Mijin’s head slightly leaned back against the shelves as Yoongi’s forehead lay on hers. Their steady breathing wrapping around them just as slowly as their hold on one another loosened. Yet, for a split second, as her eyes had fluttered open, she had felt his grip on the hem of her sweater tightening.

For a split second before the harsh fall back to reality.

Their proximity, the mere backdrop to the very question that had started it all.

“How often do you paint like this, Mijin Brown?” He whispered as he slightly cocked his head to the side.

“Rarely,” she whispered back as her hands slid to his collarbones.

“Are you painting right now, Mijin Brown?”

“Maybe.”

Not at all.

That much was evident as her mind remained clear of an all too familiar voice and her fingers slid away rather than forward. Indeed, had she been painting him, she would have been mocked for her first failed attempt. Only for her perfectionism to discard the thought as she would have gone over every curve of his facial structure. She would have hung on to him just as tightly as that first time in the subway.

For lack of a better term, she would have taken in all of him until there was nothing left.

Yet, there she was.

Her heart beating out of her chest.

Yet, she didn’t comprehend just why.

“I don’t pose for free.”

Rather, she didn’t want to.

The simple fact that she hadn’t thought twice at the thought of kissing him was reason enough to justify her earlier qualms.

“Coffee or tea?”

Her surprise was a mixture of a gasp and a slight chortle as she looked up at him, “What is it with you and that question, Min Yoongi?”

“What is it with you and not answering that question, Mijin Brown?” He gently pushed on as she doubled over. “Also, what is it with you calling me Min Yoongi?”  

He had a point.

She’d give him that.

Only that first point.

“Coffee, every day,” she bit back a smile but chuckled despite herself. “Tea, on cold days.”

“Not hot chocolate?” He mused and she shook her head.

“That wasn’t an option.”

“What if it were?”

In that instant, only two thoughts crossed her mind.

“It’s cold today, Mijin Brown,” he whispered as she slightly leaned against the shelf.

The first thought, much more evident, had gone to his hold on her as he had pulled her closer. Therefore, even as she tried looking elsewhere, there was nothing she could see but him. She was trapped under his searching gaze and he didn’t seem to want to let go.

 “I’m aware,” she softly whispered as she rested her hands on his arms.

“So, how about some tea?”

“I’m getting coffee with Taehyung, today,” she shook her head as she finally stepped out of his arms.

“It will be cold tomorrow,” she could only laugh as she looked down at their linked hands.

“Is this your subtle way of asking me out on a friendly date, Min Yoongi?”

“There’s nothing subtle about this.”

There truly wasn’t.

No longer simply lights, Mijin had been caught by Min Yoongi.

She needed to escape before it was too late.

Thankfully, it came with two loud buzzes.

Indeed, just as her lips had parted, both of their phones buzzed.

Naturally, Yoongi let go of her hand to reach for his phone. Hence, giving her more than enough room to grab her book and step away from him. He raised an eyebrow at this, but she simply shook her head and motioned to his phone. They both knew better than to let her slip away from him. Still, there seemed to be a commotion on the other end of Yoongi’s phone as he swore loud enough for Mijin to pop her head back into the aisle.

She giggled back at him as he mouthed her a goodbye.

Slightly waving back at him, she pulled her own phone out of her pocket. Absent-mindedly sliding it open, she walked through shelves as she spoke.

“I’ll be right there, Tae,” she sighed as she saw a queue at the front of the library. “I just got caught up with Yoongi.”

Despite the mention of this special name, there was an uncharacteristic silence on the other end of the line.

“Tae?”

Long and telling.

“Guess you finally figured out what to text back.”

Indeed, in that instant in Min Yoongi’s arms, only two thoughts had crossed Mijin’s mind. The second, much subtler yet just as telling, had gone by the name of Kim Namjoon.

Not once, had she thought of him.

However, that simple fact paled in comparison to the real problem at hand.

“Joonie?”

After all, she never lied to her Namjoon.

There would come a day where she would have to tell him this, be it face to face or on a canvas.

“Mimi.”

There would come a day where they would have to discuss those three special words once more.

“Think of me.”

---->

Hello, hello ^^ Mijin has her reasons that her heart and Namjoon know. Unfortunately, her guard can only hold up for so long.

Until next time, do read, read and do comment <3! Ciaociaoxx

Fun fact 1: Mijin and Namjoon's dynamics are warm and comfortable. They've known each other forever. Therefore, it all seems predictable.

Fun Fact 2: Mijin and Yoongi are hot and cold. Their personalities and passion in their field make them one and the same. Therefore, very indiscernible.