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lost stars | jjk
« kim minjoo »
Never in my life would I have expected myself to end up succumbed into a situation such as this one; situated outside the main gates of the shopping mall, waiting on a rusting metal bench for a guy whom I only properly interacted with just yesterday.
Jungkook stopped replying a long while ago, leaving me with an unapologetic seen in the chatbox we shared.
I got to my feet and sauntered through the automatic sliding doors of the mall.
Waiting for a guy? Not something my pride could take any longer.
"Kim Minjoo."
Speak of the devil. I huffed at the amusement evident in his voice, my pace immediately speeding up in annoyance. I could only imagine the cocky smirk of his lips as his boots prodded against the marble flooring, catching up effortlessly thanks to his longer legs.
"What's the hurry? Excited, are you?"
"Die."
I shot him a look, unimpressed.
Jungkook's eyes gleamed as soft chuckle left his lips.
+
"What about this?"
"That's nice."
Another piece of clothing flew into the overfilled basket at our feet.
"I'm surprised, Kim Minjoo."
I paused, "Why?"
"Your sense of fashion isn't as bad as I thought it was."
"Is that a compliment?"
"If you want it to be."
I scoffed, "Thanks, then."
Out of the corner of my eye, I cast a glance at the back of Jungkook's head as he rummaged through the clearance pile situated not far from where I stood. A puzzling thought ran through my brain; what on Earth we were doing? And what for?
This whole thing felt almost abnormal; striking up a ridiculous deal, meeting at a mall to shop for clothes just to "impress" his friend whom I wasn't even sure I would like when we eventually meet—let alone fall in love with—just so I could experience the exhilaration of being in love.
Any sane person would think this was strange and maybe even crazy. But we lived in a world where lines appeared on our wrists to signify the presence of devotion and intimacy for another, a world where it seemed like those lines had minds of their own; appearing, changing colours... and scarring, all at the occurrence of specific events we undergo. It really doesn't get any stranger than that.
Despite his never-ending supply of confidence he displayed, Jungkook's company was actually unexpectedly more tolerable than I had envisioned. He wasn't a man of many words. But when he wanted to speak, he spoke, with no hint of reluctance and definitely unsparing when it came to the cocky, sarcastic remarks.
To look in a different perspective, the star student's role of playing matchmaker could simply be an excuse for me to indulge in a long-overdue (and much deserved) shopping spree. Of which, the many pieces of clothing I accumulated from within the shop reflected with no sense of hesitation.
My fingers ran across the clothing suspended on a metal bar from the ceiling, eyes trailing over each jacket slung neatly on the hangers. I pushed aside the jerseys I already deemed as poor taste, revealing a maroon coloured bomber jacket.
I pulled it out, "Jungkook."
His body underwent a 180, turning away from a rack of coloured T-shirts to face me.
"Come here."
He walked over wordlessly, gaze landing on the jersey in my hands. I held it against his chest and he took no time in peeling his grey hoodie off to try it on.
His toned arms slid smoothly into the sleeves, the dark fabric resting perfectly on his torso. I, with no self restraint in the moment, admired the way the jacket hugged his frame; the way the fabric hid the defined build of his, yet emphasised the broadness of his shoulders.
"Take a photo. It'll last longer."
I would be lying if I said I was surprised he used such a generic line in response to my staring.
I tore my eyes away from Jungkook's body, unable to suppress the tingle of embarrassment growing on my cheeks.
I coughed, feeling an unwanted warmth rise up the sides of my neck, "Well, I picked it out. I gotta make sure it doesn't look horrendous."
Jungkook rolled his eyes, "It's okay. We're here shopping for you. I don't need this."
The jacket smacked me in the face, blinding me for a split second before I untangled the zip from my hair and pried it off. I frowned, watching Jungkook put his hoodie back on.
"But it looks good." I mumbled, the tone of my voice tainted with dejection.
"I make everything look good." He remarked with a smirk, reaching down to pick up the full basket of clothes we collected throughout the store, "Come on, we've got more shopping to do. You haven't forgotten the reason we're here, have you?"
"No," I sighed, watching Jungkook saunter further away from earshot without a bother to listen to what I had to say. The bomber jacket found itself back in its original place as my footsteps trailed slowly after him.
"—but the amount of trouble this will put me through just to see the lines on your wrist makes me wish I kept my mouth shut and walked past you that night."
