𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐝 ● 𝐉𝐉𝐊

• 2 • te désirant

The blushing girl couldn't help it. It was impossible to push aside those feelings at the moment.

●●●

You quietly hide behind your canvas so he doesn't see you. And Mr. Brown as well, because you won't be able to bear even looking at the hot guy. Let alone speak something. You're sure you'll start hiccuping due to the pressure.

You peek from above the canvas. Just your eyes in level with the edge of the canvas, so you can see what's happening in the class and enough to not get noticed.

Mr. Brown gives your new teacher an encouraging pat on the shoulders and a sentimental smile which makes the side of his eyes crinkle. Probably remembering how he started young himself.

He takes a bow infront of the class for the last time. As the class, surprisingly, behaves good for once and wishes your old teacher a farewell. You whisper a light 'bye' into the air as you see Mr. Brown go away.

He knew that the class took arts just to fill the subject requirement, but you took it because it meant everything to you. And he had been a very nice help to you.

"Art." His voice fills your ears once again. Blessing your soul but ruining the holiness out of you little by little.

"It's so boring, right?"
Mr. Jeon husked. Rich Seoul accent covering his words. His one eyebrow arches, making his eyebrow piercing shine.

You bite your lip hard, to keep yourself from realising any embarrassing sound as he purses his veiny hands together, making them look like a hot mess.

He looks around the class with a knowing gaze, as you catch the unending flair his eyes make way to.

No, art's not boring.

You don't say it. And your class which is agreeing in its silence, slumps your heart. You want to speak out and tell him. That it means so much.

But it's like a rule that you don't speak. Ever in class. And you are pretty sure no one has even heard your voice.

"Fine then, let's make this class fun. Kids, take out your sketch books." He rests his hands on the desk behind him. And his veins bulge out aggressively. He looks around the class rummaging through their bags, still that glow of superiority persisting. You suck in a breath at his attitude, he makes it hard to question his superiority in unknown ways.

Kids? He thinks we are kids? Well, we are younger but that doesn't mean we are kids. Does that mean he sees you as a kid?

A wave of sadness washes over you as you take out a 100 page thick sketch book. The light coming from the window makes your canvas' shadow fall on your desk. Keeping your sketch book hidden in darkness.

Your teacher extends a hand, pulling one of the sleeve of his shirt up, folding it. Exposing the array of black swirls printed on his arm, brandishing his perpetual charisma. Bobbing his tongue in the inner part of his cheek, adding more hotness for you to cope up with. And he rakes his hand through his ebony hair, pushing them back, preventing them from coming in his eyes, giving you a glimpse of his forehead. His cheeks hollow as he flips all his hair back carelessly.

Also, carelessly burning your body up like fire. The way your body is working, you give up trying to cope with it. Cause it's worthless trying to, it's already burning. Your face, a blushing havoc.

You can hear the light murmurs raising in the class. Definitely talking about him, and how hot he is.

Jeon Jungkook is magnetic.