social media ― taekook

0.29 - Jungkook

he sat stunned at the message for a few seconds before typing the only response he could piece together.

"oh"

by now, his smile was growing. he mashed his left hand onto his face, as if it would suck up the redness that was rising into his cheeks. his right hand dropped onto his lap, along with the phone in it. he adopted a dazed look as the same thought repeated over and over in his head.

"he wants to go to dinner with me."

before he knew it the smile was larger than before and he didn't even try to stop it anymore. he let the giddiness take over and plopped his back onto the bed, his feet dangling off the edge. he kicked out of excitement as he continued to think about the message he had just received.

"okay, okay. focus."

this was his attempt at calming himself down. the redness completely enveloped his ears and face. now there was a different smile plastered on his face. the middle of his lips straightened while the corners still held his excitement. you could tell he was trying to hold everything in.

he took a deep breath.

inhale.

exhale.

"it's just a text, jungkook. why are you acting like this over a text?"

he was coming back to his senses and thinking he may have overreacted. his face rested as he lifted his phone. he cleared his throat in an effort to ground himself before typing.

his fingers moved quickly. several 'sent' notification sounds went off as he typed. most of his words were in all caps. some of the messages didn't include words at all. just jungkook's "overreaction" in the form of random letters— he was keyboard mashing.

after about 12 messages he stopped.

"ahem."

he impatiently waited for a reply from the only individual who could decipher the nonsense he had sent out. his best friend, jimin.

after 5 minutes, he stood up, still staring at the screen filled with message bubbles. his legs moved towards the door, swiftly turned 180 degrees, then headed back to the bed. he turned again and went back to the door. then to the bed again.

he paced waiting for a response.

the space he moved in was neither big nor small. his bed sat in the middle of the room. a full sized mattress on a thick black wooden frame. his blankets, once neatly made, were now wrinkled and out of place due to his elation a couple minutes before.

on the left side of the bed there was a short dresser with a few items on it. an alarm clock that never woke him up. two bottles of water; one completely empty, the other halfway there. a few shirts and a pair of boxer briefs that have yet to be organized. or washed, for that matter. the same goes for the clothes sprawled here and there on the wood floor.

the closet resided in the wall across from the dresser. one of the sliding doors laid open, exposing the, surprisingly tidy, interior. the bulk of his clothes were organized in a simple manner. from left to right; shirts then pants then any other article of clothing that fit neither category.

a wide black desk sat in one of the corners of the room with the same fate of the dresser. only this time, a laptop was there. and instead of dirty clothes, there was paper. a few crumbled, wrinkled, or completely torn. most included research about poses and facial expressions. small things like "put head at 3/4 angle" followed by, "BUT NEVER TILT FORWARD!!!!" and other modeling tips. there were a few yellow sticky notes as well. although almost all of them contained random words and thoughts that had no meaning without context. under the messy desk sat a small black trash can and a comfortable looking black gaming chair.