Hate With Benefits | Jikook

Chapter Eighteen • What The Heart Wants

He felt as if his heart was about to burst from his breast. He'd envisioned this scenario in his head multiple times before, had all the little details planned out.

Yet, nothing could prepare Jimin for the reality of facing Jungkook again so soon.

When he meets him at the public library that is nearest to Hyosan High, Jimin is struck with a strange feeling of nervousness. His hands clutch the straps of his bag like there's an extra heavy weight inside, pulling him down, his pulse quickening fast.

He spots Jungkook sitting not too far away, quietly embedded in the books he's got scattered all over the table, his brows drawing a single dark line. There was a lack of natural light in the library, and a dim yellowish glow was seeping out from a nearby lamp, casting dramatic shadows over Jungkook's features.

The place was sparsely populated, most of the reading and study spots unoccupied. It was late, after all; it was sure to close in less than two hours.

As Jimin made his way across the room, floorboards slightly creaking under his feet, his eyes raked over the boy's figure. He was dressed simply, nothing over the top that would gather too much attention – although his natural beauty was evidently enough to turn a pair of eyes or two in his direction.

He takes a final step, brings a closed fist to his mouth and coughs lightly into it.

Jungkook shifts in his chair, his eyes swinging to him in surprise, momentarily started by his presence. It was as if the sight of him made his stomach twist; his eyes immediately turned away, a single sound of acknowledgement letting Jimin know just how professional this session was going to be. No flitting eye contact, no words that would deviate from the subject at hand, no friendly smiles.

Jimin found that he hated this more than the blazing remarks and fiery gazes. He couldn't read the other's expression. That steel-made wall, that inhuman blankness that stared back at him was infinitely worse than fury would have been. Jungkook was always a tough one to crack, but like this, he was even more difficult to read.

With a tired sigh, Jimin takes the seat across from him. He considered taking the chair sitting next to him, but decided he wasn't ready to close that distance just yet.

"I've been using the book you lent me," Jungkook says, cutting through the awkward silence. "For the exercises."

Jimin stares at him for a second too long, a bit surprised by the thought that quickly passes through him, a strange Oh, I haven't heard that voice in a while, like the sound of it is suddenly foreign to his ears, like it's been decades or centuries since he's had Jungkook's words slip through the air between them.

When he gives no response, Jungkook looks up from his notebook, a raised eyebrow in question.

Jimin composes himself. "That's great. I'm glad it's being helpful," he says in a replica of the boy's earlier tone; not impolite, but also far from casual.

The younger's eyes rake over his expression. "...Yeah," he mutters, and focuses back on his notes. "I'm just finishing up some homework, by the way." He slides a different book across the table towards Jimin. "I got those done last week, if you wanna give them a look."

He gives the younger a quick nod. "Yeah, sure."

Pushing back a few long strands of hair out of his vision, Jimin takes the thin blue-covered book into his hands. He opens it and starts skimming through the pencil writing, checking the exercises for any mistakes. He notes, quietly to himself, that Jungkook has surprisingly beautiful handwriting; the curves of his numbers are soft and pleasantly round, and his words, just the same.