VMIN / THE GUTTER

14

Their final exam for the week takes place with an obnoxiously loud clock ticking away over them. Jimin's hunched over his desk, fully submerging himself in chemistry and trying his best to ignore the irritating, grating sound of clock hands, as they dance around in gentle pivots, all across the face of time.

As if the pressure in his heart doesn't already equate to a ticking time bomb, the clock only worsens the throbbing in the saturated lump of matter in his skull. Fingers gripping at his pencil, he deftly attempts to sprawl his answers across his paper, and yet, as he does, even in his heated concentration, he feels eyes on him.

It's nearing the end of the exam, he can tell because the clock seems to be getting louder, more daunting, and he can just about justify his actions, as his eyes press upward and swivel around the exam hall, desperately seeking the owner of the eyes. He sees nothing, and something indelicately terrified shocks through him. Everyone's heads are either buried in their papers or staring at endless nothings across the wall, and Jimin suddenly realises who it is that must be staring at him.

A ghost.

Something unsettling rifles through him, jostling his organs, and leaving him a sweaty heap of bones, as he unsteadily attempts to regain focus.

Through the corner of his eye, he catches sight of Taehyung's bright blue hair, and, even from a distance, he can see how relaxed the younger seems — he's leant back in his seat, reclining, as he leisurely looks toward the ceiling, a closed test paper in front of him.

With a slight frown, Jimin carries on scribbling, and his hands shake and clam up with how much pressure starts to build across his shoulders. God, he can't wait to exercise this ghost.

As soon as the bell chimes and their time is up, they're dismissed from their rows, and they all fall apart once they're out the doors, giggling and groaning and dispersing into a fizzled out slew of deterred bodies.

Jimin, still unsettled, waits just out the doors of the hall, and watches as the endless lines of students stream past him. Then, as soon as he catches sight of that blue hair, he springs to action, wrapping his hands around his wrist, seeing him jolt in surprise, as he yanks him back, into the changing rooms.

Taehyung stumbles through the door, but the action of it is subtle, as he disappears from the crowd with no one any the wiser, falling into a succinct rhythm of slotting into the room beside Jimin.

"What the fuck?" He groans, as Jimin tosses him into the room and uses his foot to press the door closed — Taehyung almost gulps as he watches the effortless action.

With a quick glance around the empty space, Jimin quickly hisses into asking, "was he in there?"

A little dazed from the explosive manner at which he'd been pushed around and melded into a puppet, by which Park Jimin operated the strings, Taehyung fails to truly comprehend the question. "Who?" He asks, softly, stupidly. He can't help but think Jimin was getting a little too comfortable moving him around and demanding things out of him, and, while it was a positive change from the stink eyes and snarky comments, Taehyung wasn't sure how to feel about it.

He sees the black-haired boy's back teeth grit, jaw clenching, his eyes going a little wide, as if to ask are you an idiot? Jimin has a way of styling his hair so as to ensure it's both sleek and soft — the black curls pull up, pull back, flitter around, in a formation that's almost formidable. It's an attractive hairstyle, and it shows off his elegant features, makes them almost tantalising. He certainly manages to capture the attentions of anyone who looked at him; he was so charming to most everyone and Taehyung wonders if anyone else has seen this harsh, almost bitter side to him.