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Kim Taehyung - considered to be the idol of idols in the k-pop industry, the epitome of perfection, the object of envy for many, and the role model for every idol in the Korean music scene. He was the face of k-pop, the soulf...
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╔═━▒ ۞ ▒━═╗ JAMAIS VU ╚═━▒ ۞ ▒━═╝
Yi-Seo
Taehyung doesn’t bother about the embarrassment plastered on my face, and he proceeds to throw himself on my couch, manspreading his legs while I stand there wishing I had something to hide my whole self behind.
The atmosphere in the room is so silent and awkward, his eyes are stuck on me, and I could almost hear the creepy cricket noises inside my head. When a few more seconds pass by in complete weird silence between the two of us, he slowly tilts his head to one side, casting me a look that seems to be wordlessly asking me why I’ve been standing still like a tree for so long.
“Don’t worry, we all make choices like that sometimes, and this isn’t anything that I haven’t seen before,” he chuckles dryly, shaking his head a little as he looks away.
My jaw almost drops down in disbelief, and I feel as if I want to cry away all the shame and humiliation that I’m experiencing at the moment. I feel baffled by his wry humor, and there’s no way I’m buying his senseless justification.
“You can’t say that. Of course, you haven’t seen anything, it’s my body, and you don’t get to decide if you’ve seen it before or not,” I retaliate in a slightly shaky tone, and this makes Taehyung’s head snap in my direction.
His visage twists in confusion, and it is evidenced by how his dense eyebrows slowly come together, but his face relaxes shortly after.
“Body?” He casually raises an eyebrow, folding one leg on top of the couch and turning around to sit down facing me, and then he continues to speak in a slightly intrigued tone, “what body? I was talking about this hideous couch,” he points with his thumb to the backrest of the blazing red couch on which he is seated, and this time the ridiculousness of the situation is just too much to handle that I definitely need a shovel to dig the ground and bury my head inside the hole and never face the world ever again.
I slap a palm on my forehead and divert my eyes away from him in an attempt to conceal the flustered look on my face, but in vain. Taehyung chuckles softly, shaking his head, probably unable to believe the extent of my stupidity.
Granted, the couch is eye-stingingly bright and everything, but something tells me that he did not just mean the couch.
Turning around swiftly, I walk away into my kitchen to recover from the embarrassment, and to try and collect myself together and also probably make some coffee, which is why I brought him home in the first place.
I can’t believe I said something like that to him. Shit! Yi-Seo, you’re such an idiot!
Just as I stand there, using my hands to pacify myself by rubbing my cheeks and fixing my hair, I hear Taehyung’s baritone echoing in my kitchen from behind me.
