"The meeting went unexpectedly smooth, even with you here," Jisoo said.
He squeezed her hand a bit and added, "My thoughts exactly. But the competitions won't be as smooth."
She dug her nails into his hand, too bad she had cut them recently. "Took t...
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Jisoo pov
I almost choked on air when I read his text. What was it anyway? "Hey, it's Taehyung. I just wanted to check if you're feeling better."
There's no way in hell I was going to believe that Taehyung, of all people, would send such sweet, nice, and honeyed words. No freaking way!
I almost texted my girls, but then I remembered Jennie, and I didn't want to bring up anything that might remind her of him. Instead, I sat there, debating whether to reply or just ignore it. Just as I opened my keyboard to type something back, the message vanished—he unsent it. For a few seconds, I watched the three dots bobbing on my screen, anticipating what would come next.
Then, a new message appeared: "Sorry, it was Jimin."
The audacity of this man!
"Oh, so you're not sorry for hitting me," I shot back, my fingers flying across the keyboard in a burst of anger.
"It was an accident!"
"There's something called a conscience, but I guess you sold it at a garage sale," I typed furiously.
"Why are you getting so agitated?!" he replied, the words popping up before I could even finish my tirade.
I paused, ready to unleash a paragraph on why I was so quote agitated, but his next message stopped me in my tracks.
"It was not intentional. I genuinely didn't want to hurt you. I wanted to apologize there, but you just ran off after throwing a ball at me and calling me a 'Jerk'."
I stared at the screen, my anger wavering.
"You deserved it," I texted back
"Let's not have this conversation right now. I am trying to apologize here, not argue."
"Debatable 🤷♀️. I see no apology text," I replied, smirking.
"I am getting there!! If you let me talk!"
I couldn't help but giggle.
"Don't screenshot it."
I laughed out loud. How did he know I was considering it?
"Okay then, save me the effort and give me a written apology."
"Don't push your luck. This apology is all you get."
"Unacceptable. I could have had brain damage—possible concussion, skull damage, and so on. You're a nerd, so you should know the possible outcomes." I tried guilt-trapping him.
"Okay, now you're stretching it."
"Written apology or nothing."
I turned off my phone as it buzzed with his incoming messages. Honestly, I would've accepted his apology in the text, but the idea of making him sweat a little with the demand for a written apology was too good to pass up. I knew there was no way he'd actually write one, but the thought of annoying him was worth it. Now I know I'll have a good night's sleep.
