Jimin

I’m sitting on the floor again. It’s not the most comfortable to play, but it’s much better than being on the bed next to him. I can never seem to focus on the actual music when I’m in his personal space and he’s in mine.

He requested that I play one of the songs I used to play when I sat out on my balcony to practice, so we’ve been working though it. He’s lying on his stomach, writing on his notepad. Erasing and writing, erasing and writing. I’m sitting here on the floor, not even playing. I’ve played the song enough for him to know the melody by now, so I’m just waiting while I watch him.

I love how he focuses so intently on the lyrics, as if he’s in his own world and I’m just a lucky observer. Every now and then, he’ll tuck the hair behind his ear that keeps spilling in front of his face. My favorite thing to watch him do is erase his words. Every time the eraser meets the paper, he pulls his top lip in with his bottom teeth and chews on it.

I hate that it’s my favorite thing to watch him do, because it shouldn’t be. It triggers all these what-ifs in my head, and my mind begins imagining things it shouldn’t be imagining. I begin to picture myself lying next to him on the bed while he writes. I imagine his lip being tucked in while I’m just inches from him, looking down on the words he’s written. I imagine him glancing up at me, noticing what he’s doing to me with his small, innocent gestures. I imagine him rolling onto his back, welcoming me to create secrets with him that’ll never leave this room.

I close my eyes, wanting to do whatever I can to stop the thoughts. They make me feel just as guilty as if I were to act on them. Sort of similar to how I felt a couple of hours ago when I thogut there was a chance he was getting back together with Hoseok.

I was pissed.

I was jealous.

I was having thoughts and feelings I knew I shouldn’t be having, and it was scaring the out of me. I’ve never had an issue with jealousy until now, and I don’t like the person it’s turning me into. Especially when the jealousy I’m feeling has nothing to do with the boy I’m in an actual relationship with.

I flinch when something hits me on the forehead. I immediately open my eyes and look at Jungkook. He’s on the bed, laughing, pointing at my phone. I pick it up and read his text.

Jungkook: Are you falling asleep? We aren’t finished.

Me: No. Just thinking.

He moves over on the bed to make more room and pats the spot next to him.

Jungkook: Come think right here so you can read these. I have most of the lyrics down, but I’m hung up on the chorus. I’m not sure what you want.

We haven’t openly discussed the fact that we don’t write on the bed together anymore. He’s focused on the lyrics, though, so I need to pull my together and focus on them, too. I set my guitar down and pull myself up, then walk to the bed and lie beside him. I take the notebook out of his hands and pull it in