Winrina Drabbles

(18) Always, Kind of

Anxious steps circled the semi-dark foyer, eyes darting now and then to the clock on the wall that struck eleven o'clock. At this hour, Jimin would be in bed, long passed out after a tedious day of classes and practice. She'd probably be curled up despite her sore shoulders and have drool running down the corner of her mouth, not restlessly waiting at her house's entryway near midnight, yet there she was, now seated at the bottom of the staircase.

The rain that seemed to fall endlessly did nothing but feed her apprehension; it was apparent in the constant locking and unlocking of her phone. Jimin didn't know why she still bothered for a text message about canceling the visit, fully aware that the bad weather was nothing compared to the stubbornness that would bust down the front door at any given moment, which she wished to happen already. She didn't want to be responsible for a certain somebody in case they got sick; she already had a lot on her plate.

After unlocking her phone for the fifth time, Jimin releases a sigh, but the act cuts short when it gets caught in the dryness of her throat. She realizes that barely ten minutes have passed since she has gotten off the phone call, yet it already felt like it was a lifetime ago. Well, the call did feel like it took a lifetime to end; it was her constant "don't you dare" and "you better not ring the doorbell" on loop when giggles and an "I'll see you soon" filters through the speaker, the last she hears before the call drops.

Jimin hoped that her final warning was taken seriously. The last thing she needed was her parents to think she was sneaking a boy into the house, which honestly, was her greatest nightmare—scratch that, second greatest nightmare. The first would be getting a cramp in the pool and—

The doorbell rings once, twice, thrice before it clicks in Jimin's head that holy crap, the doorbell was ringing!

Jimin gets on her feet, dropping her phone to the side to practically faceplant against her front door to unlock it. The brassy ringing stops when the cold air greets her face, and drizzles of rain sprinkle just above her eye. It doesn't stop her from glowering on the figure under the yellow raincoat, a smile that could instantly light up the tar-black sky peaks from under its hood, and Jimin tries not to let it affect her façade.

To do so, she pulls her evening intruder inside the house, the raincoat slipped off, and a drenched pair of Vans kicked to the side prior to dragging themselves further into the house and up the stairs. They tiptoe as they passed the master's bedroom; the rustle of a backpack and a fleeting laugh disrupts the sought-after silence when Jimin almost trips on her own feet. Upon their arrival to her bedroom, Jimin sits on the foot of her bed, arms crossed and eyes narrowing at her uninvited guest, who still retained her smile from earlier.

"I told you not to come over."

"That's not how you're supposed to be greeting your best friend," The younger girl pouts. "Here, I'll say it for you instead. I missed you, Minjeong-ah."

"I was serious! Anything could've happened to you out there!"

"But nothing happened, and I'm here now! Isn't that the important part?"

The bag slips off her shoulder, landing on the carpeted floor with a muffled thud, and a hand runs through her honey-hued locks that glow from the light of Jimin's bedside lamp. And from that moment, Jimin registers that she had been missing the puppyish face that she hasn't seen in over a week, but she wasn't going to let it show just yet.

"I also told you not to ring the doorbell, didn't I?"

Minjeong shrugs. "How else would I get you to open the door?"

"By sending a text?"

"It's dark and storming, and you still expect me to have time to pull my phone out?" Minjeong gestures to the ceiling just as thunder roared.