Richan's POV

 

 

“What?” I scoffed, looking at my classmate, Jungkook's, score and then back at mine. “H-how did you get a higher score than me?”

 

He simply made a peace sign and smiled. I pointed at him, yelling, “You probably had that senior girl tutor you!”

Jungkook frowned, “She's my girlfriend, not just a senior girl.”

 

I pretended to gag, “Okay never mind I don't want to hear you blab again.”

 

“Hey, you started it.”

I put my test paper into my bag unhappily and laid my head down on the table. I felt Jungkook's shoe hit my chair, annoying me. He'll probably just stop if I ignore him.

 

“Hey,” he said, continuing his kicking. “Yah Richan.”

“Yah?” I lifted my head up. “As if we're close enough for you to be saying 'yah' to me.”

 

“How's you and Jimin?” he sat up straighter, blinking innocently at me. You nosy little—

 

“Why does it concern you?”

“Becauseeee...I want to know?”

 

“It doesn't matter what I say.”

“So then, nothing happened?"

 

I flicked him on the forehead, “What do you mean, happened? We're friends, stupid.”

“You act like you want to stay friends,” he crossed his arms. “I talked to him today.”

“Y-you did?” my interest picked up. “What did you talk about? I don't trust you talking to him. You're going to end up spill—”

 

“We talked about princesses and tea parties.”

 

“...”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “Did you want me to say something like that? So it would have nothing to do with you?”

 

“Just tell me the truth, Jungpoop,” I sighed.

 

“We didn't talk about anything related to you, okay.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, are you disappointed or relieved?” Jungkook was going to hit me on my head.

 

“...Both?”

 

“When did you even start liking him...” Jungkook facepalmed himself.

 

“We were childhood friends. It just kind of...ended up like that...” I said, shuffling my feet.

 

“Why do you like him?”

 

I was thinking about it, but I couldn't really come up with a good answer. I just liked him because I knew him as well as I did. And I like his face. “I don't need to explain myself to you.”

“Fine, I'll just ask him what he thinks of you, instead.”

 

“Don't do that—!” I blushed. Half of me wanted to know, but my other half had a gut feeling that he didn't like me in the same way I did towards him.

 

 

 

After school, Jimin and I always walked home together. It was something we did for the last several years, and our houses weren't that far from each other. Sometimes, we went over to each other's houses just to hang out, even though it's usually mines. It's never really awkward, despite the feelings I had for him.

 

“Jimin-ah,” I said. “Let's go to your house today.”

 

Jimin bluntly said, “My room is messy.”

 

“Your room is always messy.”

“I know,” he smiled at me, his cheeks fluffing up the way I liked it.

 

“I'll clean,” I said.

 

“You hate cleaning,” Jimin retailiated. “Why do you want to come over so badly?”

 

I pouted, “The last time I did was like...Christmas. It's spring now, so I haven't been there in like three months!”

“And you still can't!”

 

I punched Jimin on the arm. “Why not?”

“It's too messy for you,” he said, a smile on his face despite being punched. He grabbed me and put me in a headlock between his arms, messing my hair up with his other hand. “I know you hate messiness.”

 

“Y-yah!” I shrieked. “Don't make my hair messy too!”

He was laughing uncontrollably when he let go of him, clapping his hands in success. I fixed my hair and gave him a satisfied glare. I really didn't mind him teasing me at all; I was more used to it than anything.

 

“Fine, you can come, but you can't touch anything,” he stated.

 

“Whyyyyy? It's like a treasure chest in there!”

 

“Exactly,” he laughed. “So don't start just cleaning things, okay?”

I sighed, “Alrighty.”

We headed to Jimin's two story house. It wasn't anything special from the outside, but that house held a lot of different memories for me.

 

 

Flashback

 

“Jiminnie—wait!” my seven year old self chased after him through the house. “Let me see the snail!”

“No!” I could hear him yell as the dirt on his feet left footsteps.

 

“Waeyo?!” I whined.

 

I ran into the kitchen and bumped into someone before realizing that Jimin's mother had one arm on her waist and then other grasped onto the back of Jimin's shirt.

 

“Ah—” I shrank back.

 

“You two are going to clean this house,” she said, clearly not joking.

 

“Sorry,” I bowed respectfully to her. Jimin grunted before his mother let go of him.

 

“And Jimin,” she said, before walking away. “I want that dead snail out, now.”

Jimin gave her a shocked expression before glancing at me. I, myself, was shocked to hear it. Dead?

 

“Omma!!!” he shouted in frustration. His hands were cupped together, probably with the snail inside.

 

“It's dead?” I said.

 

Jimin looked apologetic. “That's why you don't want to see it.”

 

“...”

 

“—No, I want to see it!” I said.

 

“I didn't kill it,” Jimin spoke up. “I found it like that.”

 

“Okay. I believe you!” I grinned.

 

He held his hands in front of me and then slowly opened it. Inside was clearly a dead snail. It was hanging limply among his fingers, but his shell was really pretty, at least.

 

“Look at how shiny its shell is!” I pointed.

 

Jimin smiled, “It is, right?”

 

I nodded, “We should at least bury it then!”

We ran out to the backyard and picked up one of the gardening tools to dig a hole. Jimin grabbed a sheet of paper towel and wrapped it snugly around the snail. The two of us were rebels, so we weren't really thinking about if Jimin's mother would yell at us again or not. Either way, I dug a hole just big enough for the snail to fit, placed it inside and then we stared at it for a while.

 

“How come you didn't want me to see it?” I asked.

 

“Because I thought you would scream. I hate it when you scream,” he pouted.

 

“Hey! That's mean!” I slapped him on his arm, leaving dirt marks.

 

“It's true though! Your scr—”

 

“I'm not scared of dead things.”

“I thought we were talking about screams.”

“Hmm? No, I just don't know why you wouldn't show me it,” I pouted.

 

“I thought you wouldn't like to see it.”

 

“I'm not a chicken!” I stuck my tongue out at him.

 

“Okay okay!” Jimin smiled. “That's good.”

We sat there doing a lot of smiling and talking that day.

 

 

When I was ten, I think I started having feelings for the boy. Jimin wasn't exactly the skinniest kid there, and this was the age where people became asses and es. Sometimes they would talk behind his back, sometimes they would say it openly. Sometimes, they would come up to me and tell me whatever they wanted to say. All I did was shrug it off and tell Jimin that he was fine the way he was. Because he was, and if no one wanted to take a deeper look at him, then they shouldn't.

 

Despite that, Jimin's self-esteem lowered a lot that school year. He cried some nights, and would end up spending the night at my house. I felt so bad for him, because I knew he was perfect the way he was.

 

One day, we were walking home together when we saw three of our classmates in front of Jimin's house. Anger flared up in me, but Jimin quickly grabbed my hand, shaking his head. “Let's just go to your house, instead.”

 

I wanted to protest but sighed, “Alright.” Clenching his hand, I pulled away and rolled up my sleeves, “After I'm through with them.”

 

The three of them seemed to have seen me stomping over there, and instantly started laughing.

 

“What are you doing here? Get out,” I said.

 

“We have a present for your little boyfriend,” they ignored me and smirked, holding a black plastic bag out.

 

“He doesn't want it,” I said, pushing it away.

 

“Why not?” they said. “It's food. His favorite.”

 

I grinded my teeth together, grabbing the bag. “He. Doesn't. Want. It.”

 

“Are you trying to make him starve to death?” one of them joked. Another one made an 'aww' sound.

 

I opened the bag and angrily threw the contents onto them after that. My eyes widened when I saw that it wasn't food—it was garbage. The three of them were gagging at their own prank. Serves them right.

 

Jimin ran to me and pulled me. “Let's just go inside, okay?”

I glanced back at the idiots, “I hope you all go to hell.”

 

Behind the closed doors, I broke down, falling to the floor. It wasn't confronting them that scared me, it was how those words hurt even me.

 

Jimin squatted down and my back as tears started falling. I sobbed, “Jimin-ah. I'm sorry.”

 

“Why are you sorry?”

 

“I—I don't know why people are so mean...”

“Were they mean to you?”

I glared at him, sarcastically replying, “Yeah, clearly because they stood outside your house for no reason.”

 

Jimin only gave a sad smile before he pulled me into one of the most satisfying hugs I've ever felt. “Thank you.”

I wrapped my arms back around him and made an ugly laugh. “No need to thank me. It's my job as your best friend.”

 

End flashback

 

 

When we reached almost reached the house, I remembered that event. Jimin lost a lot of weight now, probably because he was taller and liked to play basketball with Jungkook and Hoseok. He's still self conscious about himself though, which makes me sad and worried for him. Sometimes I really wished I was his girlfriend—so that I'd have an excuse to always look after him.

 

“Yah, are you going to come in?” he said, already inside the house as I stared at the spot where I yelled at those three s five years ago.

 

“Huh? Yeah, don't lock me out!” I said, going inside his house. Nothing much changed in the three months, although there have been like one or two furniture spot changes.

 

I said hello to Jimin's mother before we headed upstairs to his room.

 

Jimin stood outside his room before opening it again. “Remember what I said?”

 

“Let me clean?” I grinned.

 

“Richan!”

 

“Okay, fine I won't bother your stuff,” I exasperated.

 

“Let me go inside first,” he said, then disappearing into his room. I heard some shuffling and random noises—I guessed he was just trying to clean up a little so that I really actually didn't have to mess around with his stuff. I rolled my eyes, then found Jimin standing there looking a little disheveled.

 

“Okay,” he smiled. He took off his blazer and tie and three buttons of his dress shirt was ed, revealing his damn collarbone.

 

“Oh,” the word just came out from my mouth as my face started feeling warmer. I stared at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

 

Except that when I entered his room, it really was the most interesting. Although I thought he cleaned up, there were piles of clothes in one corner, then a mess of wires and random equipment in the other. I looked at him in horror.

 

He only gave me a smoldering look, “You said you wanted to come, right?”

 

“Shut up,” I said, heading to his bed, the only part that was decently organized. I flopped onto it and sighed happily because it smelled like him plus cotton. I'm not creepy, I'm just saying—okay.

 

 

Flashback

 

The last time we had a legitimate sleepover was in 7^th grade. It involved a lot of crying from me because after realizing my feelings for him years ago, he told me that a girl had asked him out.

 

“Wh-why are you crying?” Jimin sounded confused and apologetic. “I'm sorry, Richan-ah.”

 

I wiped my tears as I sat next to him on his bed. I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my head into my knees in an attempt to silence my crying. It hurt a lot because no one deserved Jimin. That girl who asked him out didn't prove herself to me yet.
“You idiot,” I hit him. “Why are you asking me for my opinion about her?”

 

He scratched his neck. “Because...I was hoping to kno—”

 

“Then just tell her!” I yelled. If he wanted to know more about her, then why didn't he just say yes?

“But—”

 

“You don't need my approval!” I lied.

 

“What approval?” he blinked. “What—did you think I was going to say yes?”

 

“What?” I raised my eyebrows at him with my bloodshot eyes.

 

“I was wondering how I could tell her no in the nicest way possible,” he said.

 

I was completely speechless and I turned my head away from him.

 

“Were you crying because you—”

 

“Shut up, shut up,” I interrupted him. “I thought she was going to take my spot as your best friend.” I lied to him again about it. I thought she would take all my chances from me.

 

“Oh...” he said, sounding disappointed. Then his tone rose, “Hey, you're always going to be my best friend! Don't worry!”

“Yeah we'll see for how long,” I stuck my tongue out at him.

 

“Don't cry, anymore,” he said, taking his fingers and wiping my tears softly. My heart beat quickly at his actions and butterflies flew into my stomach, making me clench my eyes tightly at the feeling. I was so deeply in love with him it hurt.

 

“What's with your face?” he asked, restraining a laugh.

 

“Nothing!” I said, grabbing his blanket and then laying down on his bed, pulling the blanket over my head. My hand went over my chest, feeling like it was going to burst at any moment.

 

Even as my back was turned towards him, I could feel that he also laid down on the bed and went under the covers. I also had a feeling that he was staring at me.

 

“Richan,” he said.

 

“Hmm?” I said.

 

“You'll always be here right?” he asked.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean—if we go to different high schools...you'll still be mine right?” Jimin said. “...M-my best friend.”

 

I turned around and realized how much closer he was than I thought. Our faces were only inches apart and it was really warm under the covers. I was going to back up, but Jimin's legs went over my body so that he could stop me. I was blushing furiously, but at least it was dark there.

 

“Hmm?” he asked.

 

“Of course!” I laughed nervously, my palms getting sweaty. “I'll always be here for you.”

 

“Okay,” he smiled. “I feel relieved.”

 

He let go of me with his leg and turned so that he was laying straight on his back, his head faced towards the ceiling. I, on the other hand, curled up into a ball from embarrassment and soon enough, I had fallen asleep.

 

End flashback

 

 

“Are you spacing out again?” Jimin threw a lion plushie at me.

 

I looked at the plushie that hit my face and stared at him, “I thought you didn't like these things.”

 

“Shhh,” he said. “I got it as a present.”

“From who?” I raised my eyebrows, praying to God it wasn't a girl.

 

“Taehyung.”

“Taehyung?” I hadn't heard his name before. Well, it sounded like a guy's name.

 

“He started playing basketball with us,” he said, going over to the bed as well. “He likes things like this, I guess. I don't know why he gave it to me, though.”

I laughed, “It's cute!”

“It's okay,” he said, placing the lion between us as we laid on the bed.

 

“It's been a long time,” I said.

 

“It has right?” Jimin laughed.

 

“I keep having flashbacks,” I said.

 

“Is that why you just end up sitting there and not listening to me?”

 

I pouted, “Sorry. What were you saying?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Fine, don't tell me.”

“Okay, then.”

“Oppa!” I whined.

 

“Are you hungry?” he changed the subject, rolling over on his sides, staring right at me. His bright smile made my heart flutter.

 

I nodded, “Cook me something!”

 

He scoffed, “I'll ask my mom to make something.”

I pouted, “I haven't eaten your cooking in forever!”

Jimin jumped off the bed and headed for the door, “Well, you won't get any today, either.”

I laid on his bed and rolled around in it happily. I really did like his smell, probably because I was so used to it. It was a short while before I felt kind of bored and looked around his messy room. I sighed and stood up, trying to avoid the stuff lying around.

 

To take up the time, I simply just walked around and looked at some pictures. There were a lot of pictures of me with him, I realized. I smiled at one where we went to the amusement park for the first time in our lives, remembering a lot more of the past again.

 

 

Flashback

 

It was Jimin's eleventh birthday, and his parents decided to take him to an amusement park for the first time. He added that he personally wanted to invite me, with whom had long conversations with about never going to amusement parks.

 

We were stoked. As curious children, we always wanted to feel how it was to go on roller coasters or go into those mirror houses, all while eating cotton candy with our face painted.

 

And that was really all we did. We accompanied each other through the day, going to whatever we wanted to. Neither of us were the scared type; we were both brave, adventurous and excited enough to try whatever we could. When night time started coming was when we started to tone down.

 

We sat inside one of the park's restaurants, chowing down on turkey legs happily. Jimin would every once in a while try to steal one of my fries that came along with it. Of course at this time I already had a crush on Jimin, so I wasn't really against him trying to take my food. Naturally though, as best friends, I by pushing him softly.

 

“Stop stealing my food!” I said.

 

“Deal with it!” Jimin bit half of the fry, smiling really widely. I furrowed my eyebrows until Jimin held the other half of the fry to my mouth. I opened my mouth and finished the fry.

“Meanie,” I blushed, turning away from him so he couldn't see.

 

 

Right before we were going to leave, Jimin's father asked us to take a picture in front of the amusement park's monument/plaque stuff.

 

Jimin stood in the middle, me on the right side and Jimin's mother on the left. We all made peace signs and we heard the shutter and a flash go off once.

 

“Let's take one just with us,” Jimin said. He looked at his mom and she seemed to understand, standing off to the side.

 

To my surprise, he brought me into a hug, his face still turned towards the camera. Jimin was about half a head taller than me at this age, so he basically laid his cheek against the top of my head. I grabbed onto Jimin's arms that were across waist and forced a smile, no matter how embarrassed I was.

 

One more flash and shutter sound and I was free to breathe again.

 

That was still probably my favorite part of the day. I mean, other than the fry. Or...other than Jimin himself.

 

End flashback

 

 

I found myself smiling widely like an idiot when I finished my thought, then instantly panicking to see if anyone was watching me. I looked around and exhaled in relief. It would have been really awkward if Jimin saw me just smiling there.

 

I looked around the room some more, and I peered at his messy desk. I made a face at the junk that was on there, and my urges to clean it came back. I groaned because I promised him that I wouldn't clean it...but then again, it was really hard not to. His notebooks were scribbled with notes and random drawings, worksheets laid all over, all completed. Jimin was a pretty good student, in my opinion. He was smart and he worked hard.

 

The more I looked around the room, the more my urges were acting up and the more annoyed I was getting. Aish, this boy, why was he such a...boy? I decided that I should just leave the room for now, until I tripped on something. I noticed it was sticking out from under his drawers, but I didn't react fast enough that I accidentally kicked it under and almost fell.

 

Oops, I thought. Crouching down, I peered under the drawers to see where the thing I kicked was. I slowly and carefully reached for it, until a voice shouted my name.

 

Retracting my hand quickly, I looked at the boy who looked shocked.

 

“What are you doing?”

“I—there...I accidentally kicked something down there. It was like sticking out, kind of...so...” I explained.

 

Jimin placed two sandwiches on his desk and picked me up, “It's okay. Don't worry about it.”

 

“What was it?” I asked.

 

“Just...nothing,” he answered pretty quickly. He handed me a plate and I took the sandwich happily. I looked back at the drawer and felt something suspicious about it, something just told me that it was.

 

“Were you touching my stuff when I told you not to?” Jimin whined, sitting on a chair as I took a seat as well.

 

“No, I swear!” I said. “I was going to leave the room whe—”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Because your room was annoying me,” I honestly said, smiling.

 

“Yah—!”

 

“I do hate messiness,” I nodded, taking a bite of the sandwich.

 

“ More than anything?” he asked.

 

“Uh...well—” I thought. It annoyed me but it wasn't that bad. What else didn't I like? I shrugged to answer him. Then I decided to ask about the thing that was under the drawers again. “What was it?”

 

“What was what?”

 

“The thing there,” I pointed behind me, to the drawers.

 

Jimin shifted his eyes, “It's nothing, I said.”

“Just tell me what it is,” I said. “Is it a magazine?” I raised my eyebrows and .

 

“Richan I'm not like that!” he protested. “Plus there's the internet, now. Who needs magazines.”

 

I giggled, “The internet, okay.”

“Shut up! That's not what I meant!” he flushed red. “Anyway...it's just a notebook. No big deal.”

“I could have just gotten it for you,” I said, pouting.

“Well—well I didn't want you to get dust all over yourself,” Jimin said. I raised my eyebrow because it seemed more like an excuse than anything.

 

“Uh huh,” I said, clearly not believing him. “You won't tell me what's in that notebook?”

 

He shook his head very animatedly. I pouted, folding arms together. I also didn't like secrets.

 

“I don't like secrets,” I said.

 

Giving me sass, he said, “Too bad.”

“Oppa, I'm your best friend right?” I said. “Why can't you tell me?”

 

“Because we all have secrets!” he said. “Don't tell me that you don't have any.”

I paused—I guess liking Jimin was a secret. As if I was going to tell him. “Fine you win.”

I took one last look at the drawers were the notebook was under. I had to find out what that was. If Jimin won't even tell me what it is, there's something up.

 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

 

It was a Saturday afternoon that Jimin texted me that he was going to go play basketball, so he wouldn't be answering his messages for a while. I took this as a chance to go over to his house.

 

I rang the doorbell and Jimin's mother smiled at me. “Richan-ah, Jimin's not home right now. He went to the park.”

“I know,” I said. “I think I left something in his room.” I lied, scratching my neck.

 

“Oh what is it?”

“H-huh? It's uh...a...notebook. Yeah, it was in my backpack the other day, but I took it out for a second.”

“I see,” she said. “Do you want me to get it or?”

 

“I can do it!” I laughed. “It'll be really quick.”

I rushed up the stairs quickly and the first thing I did was gawk at the actually cleaned room. Things weren't all over the place and I was completely shocked. What is this? Is this even his room? I wondered. Before staring too much, I remembered I had to look for the notebook, which wasn't under the drawers anymore. Nervous, I shuffled around to hope to find it. Looking through his bookcase, I saw a glimpse of the notebook squished between two bigger ones cleverly.

 

I stopped and smirked, and took the notebook. Taking a deep breath, I opened it to the first page.

 

I guess I really wasn't prepared for it.

 

 

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part of it is up :) it's gonna be a two-shot i realized lol because yeh it's really long sobs

this part was kind of just a lotta flashbacks LOL

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