the blue notebook | jikook

pretty

jimin wanders inside the class with a panicked look, approaching his bench in a pragmatic way.

but even before he could sit down and think, there stood, in all his glory, jeon jungkook, in front of him.

"can we talk outside, jimin?"

jungkook knows his name?

jimin looks down on the floor, clearing his throat to not make it seem like he's having a difficult time constructing simple sentences.

"okay," comes out, barely though.

it's just as jimin imagined and it's driving him to insanity.

jungkook does smell like apple cinnamon and that becomes clearer when the taller has him caged to the wall, or that's what jimin wishes happens right now.

but none of his wishes are met.

"huh?" jimin realizes that there's a familiar diary in jungkook's hands, something which the taller retracted from his own bag.

it takes a while for jimin to know.

"is that. . . . my diary?"

"yes," jungkook replies, "it is. i found it on the ground last week."

"did you read it?" jimin's cheeks glow red, hands itching for a warm and reassuring touch.

jungkook wants to hold them, or even say anything comforting.

"yes," yet jeon jungkook doesn't know how to lie.

"i see."

and then just like that, the diary is snatched away from jungkook's hold. and as jimin walked away inside the class, perhaps jungkook saw a glint of disappointment splashing behind jimin's deep oblong orbs.

yoongi was right.

jungkook does suck at making friends.