Jungkook

Jimin leaves his guitar for the first time in an hour. We haven’t sent any message, because we had a good time. It’s pretty awesome how good we can work together. He plays a song, over a over again, while I throw myself on his bed with a pen in front of me. I write the lyrics as soon as they appear on my mind, most of the time wrinkling the paper, throwing it away through the room, an starting again. But I have ready almost all the lyrics of a song, and he’s just thatching two lines that he didn’t like. I’d say that’s progress.

There’s something at these moments, when we write music, that I love. All my worries and thoughts about everything bad in my life seem to disappear during the short times that we write together. It’s nice. Jimin: Let’s make the whole song now. Sit so we can sing it. I want to make sure that stays perfect before sending it to Jiyong. He starts playing the song, so I start singing it. He’s looking closely, and the way his eyes seems to read every move, makes me feel awkward. Maybe because he couldn’t express words through the speaking, and I don’t know what the hell he’s thinking. He holds the crown in the not verbal apartment. I’m pretty sure, as the way he’s looking at me, that he doesn’t even need it. I feel uncomfortable when he’s watching me, so I close my eyes and try to remember the lyrics while he continues playing the song. Its awkward singing them with him when he’s just a few meters from me. When I wrote this lyric the first time, he was playing his guitar, but he was a hundred meter from me, in his balcony. Still, as much as I tried to pretend that I was writing about Hoseok in this moment, I knew that I imagined Jimin singing them.

A little bit more
Why don’t you let me

Take you away

We can live like you wanted

From place to place I’ll be your home

We can make our own

Cuz together makes it pretty

Hard to be alone

We can have everything

You ever wanted

And maybe just a little bit more

Just a little bit more

His guitar stops, which, naturally makes me stop too. I open my eyes, and he’s watching me with one of his unexpressive stares. I take that back. This stare isn’t unexpressive at all. He’s thinking. I can say it by the deviation of his eyes that he has already an idea. He looks away to pick up his phone.

Jimin: Do you mind if I try something?

Me: While you promise to never propose something asking if I mind that I try.

Jimin: Good try, but that doesn’t make sense.

I laugh, and then I look at him. I nod slowly, with fear of what he’s about to “try”. He sits on his knees and leans to the front, putting both hands on my shoulders. I try to keep my shout of amaze, but it fails. I don’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it so close to me, but holy .

Holy .

Why my heart is going crazy right now? Jimin pushes me until I’m lay on the mattress. He extends the hand behind him, takes his guitar, and then he puts it to the other side of me. He lays next to me. Calm down, heart. Please. Jimin has supersonic senses, and he could listen to you through the vibration of the mattress.

He gets closer to me, and by the way he doubts, I think he’s not sure if I’m going to let him get closer. I will. I’m at his mercy. Now he’s looking at me, calculating his next move. I can say he’s not trying to me. What he’s about to try is m