Obsession | JJK ft. PJM

02 Baby Pink

"Believe nothing you hear and only one half that you see."

- Edgar Allen Poe (The System of Dr. Tarr and Prof. Fether)

Sitting on the edge of your bed, your legs swing back and forth as droplets of water run down your spine, clad in a baby pink bathrobe. You stare at his photo. His silver hair parted; his plump lips formed in a cutesy pout – he smiled like an angel. You scroll past that post and find him at a club, an old-fashioned whiskey glass gripped loosely in his hand as he looked at the camera. He had a devilish grin on his face.

Six months, fourteen days, and twenty-two hours ago was the last time you had sex which was breakup sex with your long-term boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend – Park Jimin. You had been dating him ever since high school, your friends even called you the 'ideal couple'. Everyone around you, though very happy to see you two together, was jealous of how they didn't have what you lovebirds had. What they didn't know was that with time your liaison had lost the spark. The physical aspect of the relationship was evergreen but the emotional half of it had slimmed down to the point you two sat together one day and decided that it's better to part ways. It was a mutual agreement.

It took you some time to move on but somehow it was easier than you thought. Maybe it was because you had it coming even before the breakup. But now because of your ever-so-growing libido, you couldn't resist wanting to see him again. You had tried online dating, and even going on blind dates but none could par with Jimin. He was like the human version of Aphrodite. You can never resist him. And you feel guilty as charged for constantly communicating with him in the past few weeks.

What started as a casual post-breakup conversation on social media has now bloomed into "yes, I want to fuck you... no, I want to get fucked by you both physically and emotionally." Pfft, you didn't say that to him in real life, it was just a thought you possessed in the back of your sexually frustrated mind. You had decided today to phone him and to talk.

"Hello?" His soft voice makes a smile creep up on your face when he picks up after the third ring.

"Hi Jimin," you sigh contently.

"_ _ _, ah how are you?" Jimin straightens his posture as he realises it's you.

"I am- I am doing great actually," you lie. You're anything but great. You want to lunge on him and rip his clothes off but that would be an odd conversation starter. "How have you been?"

"Just a little tired, it's going to be midnight here in America."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you chuckle embarrassingly. "I didn't realise it'd be so late there. I can call you some other time then."

"No no no no." You hear his velvety laughter. "It's the perfect time to talk..." He hesitates. "I kind of miss you."

Your heart skips a beat. Pulling your phone away from your face, you internally scream. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. What are you supposed to reply with?

"I guess I feel the same way, hence, the phone call." You sound like you're uncertain rather than returning his heartfelt confession. You mentally face-palm yourself for acting like a fourteen-year-old teenage girl talking to her crush.

You imagine him shrugging on the other side, a stupid smile flaunting on his face – which turns out to be true. You know him so well. "What are you doing?"

"I just took a shower." You answer as you fiddle with the string of your bathrobe.

He asks with mischief laced in his tone. "And what are you wearing?"