VMINKOOK / THE ART OF BEEKEEPING

40

— PART FORTY.

By Monday, Taehyung is shocked to discover there had been no attempt in contact from Jimin or Jeongguk. He's somewhat irritated by it, can feel himself grow angrier as he waltzes around school and doesn't find them anywhere; shouldn't they be writhing at his feet? Shouldn't they be begging for him not to blab? Shouldn't they be trying to get him back into their clutches?

Perhaps he wasn't as important as he gave himself credit for.

For some reason, this causes thick spheroids of irritation to trickle down his spine; he's surprised by how irksome he finds this possible revelation. So much so, he decides to change tactics and do whatever he can to avoid them. He didn't need them, especially if they didn't think they needed him.

So, all day, he sticks to places they definitely won't be. Still, he somewhat expects them to ambush him at some point. They don't. In fact, he hasn't heard so much as a whisper of their name, and he sort of wonders if they were even at school. He feels suspiciously empty.

His day is ritualistic, but, for some reason, it feels the exact opposite; it's like a usual day before he got involved with Jimin and Jeongguk — neither of them come near him, everyone ignores him, his lessons are dull and uneventful. He's not sure why he despises this so much. He'd become so accustomed to the boys' preordained design for his day, he struggles to make decisions for himself at this point.

Distressed, he makes his way to the darkroom at lunch, not catching anyone's eye, drifting around in his little bubble, just as he used to. There's something so painfully organic about it, it makes Taehyung feel pretty sick, as if the entirety of his innards could just leap from his body at any given moment, even if it was just a display to get some attention, he thinks he'd still be able to splay out all his inner-workings, his clockwork pieces visible to the world.

However, that feeling is somewhat replaced by a sense of relief as he reaches the door and he senses a presence within. Call it a gut instinct, or perhaps something else, but Taehyung knows there's someone in there, and he doesn't think it can be anyone but the pair who he hadn't seen for days. Smirking softly, he feels as if he's accomplished something, and he swiftly inhales before unlocking the door and entering.

He stills as soon as he does.

Disappointment rushes through him and he can't help the fact it clearly shows on his face, his self-satisfied expression transmogrifying into a look of pure discontent, "Hoseok." He says, solemnly greeting the boy, who's reclined back on the sofa, scrolling through something on his phone.

He looks up, a curious smile on his face, "heya, Taehyung." Finishing whatever he was doing on his phone, he slips it into the pocket of his blazer and focuses all his attention on the younger boy.

"What are you doing here?" Taehyung queries and it's a lot harsher than intended.

"I was looking at your photos." Hoseok says, pointing towards the door that led to the darkroom, where an array of developing photos were. Taehyung had a huge plethora of them to use for when he was in a jam, and he left them all around the darkroom. It's not like anyone else ever used it. They weren't exactly the most aesthetically pleasing of pictures, but they were good for dull articles he didn't particularly care about.

For that reason, he didn't doubt Hoseok was lying, "why are you really here?" he asks again, not really in the mood for whatever the guy was going to say, wanting to eat his lunch in peace now that the prospect of the PJs showing up was slim-to-none.

"Gosh, you're in a mood today." The boy gnaws at his lip ring and a jolly expression floods his features, making him look uncharacteristically soft and gentile. Taehyung doesn't say anything, and Hoseok crosses one leg over another, a chilling sense of macabre overtaking him, "you remember that conversation we had the other week?"