Work Text:
It was already late afternoon, Friday. The sun was setting, and the sky held small orange sparks blending into the white lights. Beautiful, in a way. Just not as beautiful as the person I was waiting for in front of those gates.
Most of the students, if not all of them, had already gone home. Even the school guard was giving me strange looks, probably wondering what kind of teenager stays inside a school after being dismissed, especially so close to the weekend. If he asked me, I’d answer simply: me
Me and Park Jimin, to be exact.
The boy was, in truth, the entire reason for the euphoria swelling inside me at that moment. My heart races so fast that sometimes I jokingly wish it were a heart attack, because there’s no way someone could cause all of this just by existing.
When I saw him walking down that hallway, I swore the world stopped. His hair was slightly messy, and the sleeves of his black-and-white striped shirt beautifully covered his small fingers as his arms hugged the books to his chest. He walks so calmly that I can even notice how his dark pants seem tighter with every step he takes.
Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. His eyes, shaded with smoky eyeshadow, the same ones I had seen up close earlier, blink lazily, probably from the sleepiness that always hits him after classes. His flushed cheeks contrast with the vivid color of his hair, and the wide smile on his lips makes me gasp and hold my breath.
“Thank you for waiting for me, Jun!” he says cheerfully as soon as he reaches me, and I automatically smile, as if pulled back into reality.
Park Jimin is, without a doubt, the most precious person in my life. Everything about him enchants me, from his chubby fingers to his cheeky way of acting when we’re alone.
Being with him feels almost like that sensation you get as a child when you receive the candy you wanted so badly. I feel euphoric and uncontrollably happy, along with everything that stirs inside me when he simply smiles in my direction, showing his white teeth and full lips that are almost always coated in some shiny, sweet lip gloss.
I pull him closer and wrap my arm around his neck, not before gently rubbing the back of his neck just to hear his shy little giggle. Then we head toward my house, like we always do on the last day of the week.
“How was the game today, baby?” I ask, just to watch his eyes squeeze shut in excitement.
Jimin pulls back just a little and, still holding the books under one arm, takes my hand with his free one before almost bouncing with enthusiasm, leaving me completely smitten.
“Can you believe they made fun of my height?” he exclaims, even though his voice carries no real indignation. “I’m a halfling! Of course I’m smaller than the others! That gnome is going to see. Like a good rogue, I can do things she can’t!”
Jimin is part of a group of students who get together during certain hours to play tabletop RPGs, and every time he comes back, he has a different story, either about how the others teased him or how they defeated yet another dragon. That’s why I wait for him almost every day after school, just to share in his excitement.
Sometimes I think Jimin was made to get indignant while playing D&D.
“Well, you’re small outside the games too.
I see the fury in his eyes.
The fury, and the pout.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that!” he says, scrunching up his face even more as he stares straight ahead.
Being a bit taller, I can notice everything about this boy from head to toe. But without a doubt, what makes me feel all of this is his peculiarity in so many ways, one in particular.
That cotton-candy-colored hair.
Park Jimin has the softest, best-smelling hair I’ve ever had the pleasure of running my fingers through. A vivid pink that has become one of his trademarks, just as beautiful as his personality. I get completely dazed just from being able to look at him up close.
I remember when he showed up at school with that shade for the first time.
Jimin caught the attention of everyone lucky enough to be near a being as perfect as him, and I, of course, only fell more in love.
Even when his hair was short and brown, I was completely hooked on him, on his mannerisms, the subtle, almost imperceptible sway of his hips, the way he hid his slightly crooked front tooth with his cute little hands.
Terribly cute.
Then his hair turned pink, and I realized that if I didn’t act, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
Seeing him now, walking slowly a few steps ahead of me with that pouty little face, I realize how lucky I am, and how stupid I would have been if I hadn’t asked him out that day and said what I’d been thinking for so long.
Watching him closely, as the silver ring shines on his finger and his longer hair gets even messier in the wind, I realize I no longer know how to live without him.
He became the best part of me.
No one else has ever made me feel this way. No one else makes me sweat like hell while waiting for them to arrive. No one has ever given me kisses so sweet or hugged me so delicately. No one takes me from heaven to hell in seconds. No one else has pink hair like his.
Park Jimin is unique.
Park Jimin is the cotton candy of my inner child.
Thinking about that, as my smile grows wider, I run up to him and hug him from behind, just to hear his high-pitched squeal of surprise as I lift him off the ground and spin him around while he still clings to his books.
“You’re crazy!” he shouts.
“Crazy about you, my cotton candy!” I reply, turning him toward me and sealing our lips together