"Drinks for the cute couple?" the barista smiled down at you, holding up a tray carrying two drinks. The girl was probably not much older than you and Jimin.
"We're just friends," Jimin laughed, glancing up briefly from his phone as the barista set the drinks in front of you. "But thanks."
You and Jimin sat on the patio of a small café, basking in the warm rays of the summer sun. Slowly, you began to nurse your iced coffee, the condensation from the glass dripping onto your hands. Jimin sat in front of you, iced cappuccino on the table, untouched, while he texted on his phone.
Jimin had been on his phone since you had arrived at the café, a huge smile on his face as he stared at the screen. You stared at him while you drank, and he noticed nothing.
You and Jimin had been good friends for several years, ever since you met during freshman year of high school. Your friendship was strong, and hardly anything came between you two.
But you did have your secrets.
Something you intended to hide from Jimin indefinitely was the fact that you were in love with him-you had been for years now. He was an overwhelmingly kind and considerate person, and you were one of the lucky few that got to experience his affection, both emotional and physical. But there were boundaries in your friendship, and you didn't want to ruin the fragile balance you had worked so hard to create.
Jimin had hidden something from you for years, too. Ever since you met Jimin, he would disappear onto his phone. He was always texting somebody, grinning softly as he did so. In the earlier years of your friendship, you had asked him who he was always talking to. Jimin never failed to avoid the question, and in the years you had known him, you never even learned the name of the person who constantly occupied Jimin's thoughts.
"Jimin," you called softly, unable to hide the frustration seeping into your voice, "if you're going to be on your phone the entire time, why'd you ask me to hang out?"
"Sorry, Y/N," Jimin said, not sounding very apologetic. He glanced up at you and offered you a small smile, which was nothing compared to the grin he wore when he texted. "It's just something important. I'll put my phone away soon."
You nodded, trying to ignore the irrational pang of jealousy you felt. Jimin had always treated you well, and you were in no position to demand more from him.
After a few more minutes of silence, save for the sound of Jimin's fingers tapping away, he finally set his phone onto the table and turned his attention to you. Jimin grabbed his drink and sipped loudly.
"So me and the guys were thinking about going to the cottage for the weekend," Jimin began, speaking around his straw. "Do you have any weekends off? Or can you schedule any time off?"
"I can always get someone to cover my Saturday shift," you thought aloud, staring into what remained of your drink. "I don't work on-"
Jimin's ringtone blared, cutting you off mid-sentence. Jimin jumped, surprised, and checked the display of his phone.
"Sorry, I have to take this," Jimin said, standing up. "I'll just be a minute, I promise."
You glanced away from him, but Jimin didn't wait for your answer. He walked to an emptier section of the patio, his tone bright as he spoke. The bright sound of his laughter drifted through he air, but it only made you sadder.
A storm of negative emotions bombarded you-you felt jealous, insecure, and worthless. You were more upset at yourself than at Jimin. He could keep whatever secrets he wanted from you. It was your fault for falling in love with him, and that's why everything he did made you hurt so much.
Your eyes stung with unshed tears, in part because of your pathetic crush. And also because whoever Jimin was talking to would always be more important than you.
Quietly, you stood up. Jimin had his back facing you, chattering excitedly away on the phone. He was far enough away that you couldn't make out what he was saying, which, you supposed, was the point.
With a heavy heart, you turned away and walked home.
That evening, you had a midnight shift at the department store you worked at. As the seconds slowly ticked by, you felt tiredness seeping into our bones. You kept your mind blank as you paced behind the cash register. The story was completely empty, and there was little to do that would entertain you.
Absentmindedly, you hummed along to the song playing softly on the radio. The final minutes of your shift finally came to an end, and the next cashier arrived to relieve you.
You offered the older woman a smile and a brief greeting, which she returned just as unenthusiastically. The employee room was located in the back of the store. You rushed into the room, quickly changing out of your uniform. Even though it was summer, the night air was cold. You slipped on a light sweater.
There was a back exit to the building that connected with the employee room. You pushed open the heavy door and let it shut behind you. You pulled your hood over your head, dreading the long journey home-you hated walking alone at night-and began walking.
"Y/N," a voice called out in the darkness.
You squeaked, heart skipping a beat, and spun on your heel to locate the source of the voice.
Jimin stood behind you, not properly dressed for the cold night. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his shorts, and he kicked at the ground with his sneakers.
"Let me walk you home," Jimin said, catching up to you but refusing to meet your eyes.
"It's okay," you replied quietly, hating that your voice sounded so uncertain.
"We need to talk, anyway," Jimin insisted, staring in front of him resolutely. That is exactly what you were dreading.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" you sighed, pressing the palms of your hands against your tired eyes. "I overreacted and that was my fault. I'm sorry I left without saying anything."
"No, I'm sorry, too," Jimin said with a sad laugh. He grabbed your arm and forced you to stop walking. He pulled your hands away from your face. "It was rude of me to ignore you like that. I know I take you-wait, Y/N, are you crying!?"
You lifted your hands to your face in surprise. Indeed, your cheeks were stained with warm tears. Blushing, you wiped them away furiously, but your eyes wouldn't stop watering.
"I'm fine," you answered in a steady voice that did not match your tears. "I don't know why I'm crying, but don't worry."
"Y/N, please," Jimin begged, grabbing your hands once again. "Please, just talk to me. I know I've been a shitty friend lately, and I'm even making you cry now. I don't want us to be like this anymore."
"Trust me, Jimin," you laughed bitterly, "it's not your fault. You haven't done anything wrong, I'm just overthinking things like always, okay?"
"Can you just tell me what you're thinking?"
You sighed, and a heavy silence fell between the two of you. In the cold, quiet night, Jimin was warm and bright, staring at you with worry and affection. Taking a deep breath, you figured that, for once, you may as well tell him the truth.
"I just feel like shit sometimes," you admitted, looking away from Jimin's unwavering gaze. "You're my best friend-my only close friend, if I'm being honest. I just don't feel like I'm as important to you as you are to me."
Jimin pulled you into a tight hug, the breath rushing out of you as you collided with his chest. "That's not true!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "You're my best friend, Y/N. You're so important to me."
You began to cry for real this time, sobs raking through your body. You pulled away from Jimin's embrace to wipe your tears away. "You never seem happy with me," you continued shakily. "At least compared to when you're on your phone. I know you have other friends, Jimin. But we've been friends for so long, and you still won't tell me who she is."
"Y/N, I can't tell you who she is," Jimin sighed, turning to look away from you. "It's not my choice-I'd tell you if I could. She's a childhood friend, and our friendship is really important to me, too."
"Yeah, I got that," you snorted.
"I don't know why that's upsetting you," Jimin cried, pulling at his hair in frustration. You jumped in surprise at Jimin's sudden outburst. "She's one of my oldest friends. I know it's wrong for me to ignore you when I'm talking to her, but I don't know why you're acting so jealous."
You flinched at Jimin's choice of words. "It's because I am," you whispered, beginning to walk away. "I'm sorry."
As you hurried down the dark alleyway, Jimin caught up to you and pulled to to a stop again. He turned you around so you were looking him in the eye. "Do you mean it?"
You nodded wordlessly, averting your gaze. In your chest, your heart was thundering wildly. Mostly, you were fearful, but a small part of you held onto the hope that maybe Jimin would return your feelings. "I thought you loved her," you mumbled.
"Would that matter to you?" Jimin asked, peering into your eyes as if they held the answers. "Talk to me, Y/N."
"Yes, okay!?" you exclaimed, hiding your face in your hands. "It would. I like you Jimin, and I have for so long."
"Do you mean it?" Jimin asked after a few moments passed, his voice serious. You peeked up at him through the gaps in your fingers. His face was carefully blank, but you could see him gnawing at his bottom lip. "You really like me?"
"Yes."
Suddenly Jimin laughed, and your hands dropped in shock. He had the brightest smile you had seen on his face in a long time. His eyes turned into tiny crescents as he beamed at you.
"Good, because I like you, too."
