Speeding Into Trouble || Taekook

4

In the cafeteria, Taehyung sat across from Jimin, furiously stabbing his fork into the helpless salad like it had personally wronged him.

Lettuce flew off the plate in protest, but Taehyung didn’t care. He wasn’t eating; he was waging war.

Jimin, who had been scrolling through his phone, finally looked up, eyebrows raised. “Uh, Tae? I think the salad’s dead. You can stop now.”

Taehyung’s death glare could have frozen hell over. Jimin gulped but decided to press on carefully.

“Umm… I didn’t know you and Jeongguk knew each other? Okay!.”

The fork in Taehyung’s hand stilled mid-stab. His grip tightened like he was about to snap it in half, and his eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know him, okay? We just… exchanged a few words outside the school building. That’s it. Nothing more.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, sensing the volcanic eruption brewing beneath Taehyung’s words.

“Okay… sure. No need to go full dramatic mode. Just relax. You won’t have to see him again, anyway.”

Taehyung scoffed so loudly that half the cafeteria turned to look. He shoved his plate away with enough force to send it skidding a few inches.

“Good! Because I don’t want to see him again. That arrogant, cocky asshole! He’s so full of himself, it’s nauseating! Walking around like he’s some kind of Greek god on a shiny bike.”

Jimin bit back a laugh, but Taehyung wasn’t done. If anything, he was just warming up.

“And the way he smirks!” Taehyung threw his hands up dramatically.

“Like he just invented breathing or something. ‘Oh, look at me, I’m Jeon Jeongguk, master of all existence with my stupid hair and my stupid tattoos.’”

Jimin was now fully invested, leaning on his elbows as Taehyung ranted. “Uh-huh, yeah. Sounds awful. Keep going.”

Taehyung pointed his fork at Jimin like it was a weapon. “Awful? He’s the worst! The way he talks to people, like he’s some kind of king and we’re all peasants groveling at his feet. I swear, I’ve never met anyone so…”

He paused, searching for the right word before throwing his hands up. “Infuriating!”

Jimin nodded sagely, as if he were a therapist listening to the world’s most unhinged client. “Sounds rough, buddy. But, uh… maybe take a breath?”

“Breath?” Taehyung looked scandalized.

“How am I supposed to breathe when he exists? The man is a walking migraine! I just—ugh!” He threw himself back in his chair, crossing his arms like a grumpy child denied dessert.

Jimin tried to hide his amusement behind a cough. “Look, Tae, it’s over. You don’t have to see him again. Problem solved.”

Taehyung sat up, eyes blazing. “You’re damn right I don’t! If I ever see that overgrown ego on legs again, I might actually commit a felony. I swear, if his stupid face crosses my path one more time…”

He gestured vaguely, looking like he was ready to rip Jeongguk apart with his bare hands.

Jimin gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm. “Don’t worry, Tae. The universe wouldn’t be cruel enough to put you two in the same room again.”

Taehyung let out a long, dramatic sigh, finally leaning back in his chair, though his glare could still melt steel. “Good. Because if I do, I might actually lose it.”