finding jupiter ° taekook

one

CHAPTER ONE

With the sun shooting arrows of light at my eyes, I peeked behind the protection of the bench at a boy, belly flopped on the muddy ground as if it was his bed. He held a bigger-than-my-own-hand magnifying glass to the tip of his nose, leaning closer, so close he could break his whole head through the glass and examined a charcoal colored rock. Fascinated by it, he reached out his hand slowly and placed the rock on his back, accompanying other charcoal colored stones on his spine. I wanted to slowly tell him that he wouldn't be able to get up that way without unleashing a meteor shower upon the Earth but the only movement he achieved was the blinking of his eyes. Using his elbows and his long, noodle body, the chestnut haired boy dragged himself further across the courtyard, moving the magnifying glass away from his face to examine the ground.

"Nope, that's just a snail's shell," he concluded quietly to himself after mere minutes of laying on his belly. He sighed, his gigantic body looking as though it released an air bubble that could reach the moon. Equivalent to a worm, he moved his body to get up, with all the pieces of Earth falling off his back. He slowly picked each one of them back in his hands, placing them in his hoodie pocket, now sagging with weight.

His eyes and features covered by hair and more hair, suddenly looked up at me. I realized how absolutely weird I looked, crouched on my knees behind a bench.

"Oh." His eyes greeted. "Hello." He smiled a box smile, which took over his whole face. I imagined a pigeon landing on his head, then another on his shoulder, more on his arms, until he had an aura of pigeons. And I would draw him like that, standing there with a family of pigeons at his welcome. Instead, I raised my hand slightly above my figure in greeting.

The sun was surely to set now, and the trees would bow down in slumber soon. He probably sleeps in the trees. His grey hoodie was stroked with mud, along with his jeans, but I don't think he seemed to mind.

"I haven't seen you around here before," he exclaimed loud enough for me to hear. "I'm Taehyung," he waived his hand, the imaginary pigeons on his left arm now flying away. I slowly rose to my feet, my knees burning in pain of the cement I crouched on. Picking up my bag and placing it around my shoulder, I took steps away from my creeping bench. I felt his heavy footsteps catch up with me, we were walking shoulder to shoulder and the trees slowly slumped over.

"I could start guessing if you want me to." Taehyung said. "You look like a—"

"Jeongguk. I am Jeongguk."

He nodded his head, though it looked more like a bobble head​ nod. We were in front of the University now, and I slowly concluded that he might not want to be seen with me. He was an exoplanet with its own moons, while I was Pluto — not even making one trip around the sun. We had made it to the dorms, the stars were visible and I suddenly remembered that we can see the stars even in the daytime.

"You draw?" I hear from beside me, but I'm looking down at the sketchbook in my left arm and slowly nod my head. "Can I see?"

The air is sizzling. Why is it so hot at night? I look up at Taehyung's nose bridge, because glancing at his eyes feels too harsh, especially when he's staring so hard, waiting for me to speak.

But I don't. Instead I stop and lean by a tree because this is what James Dean does right? I slowly hand him my sketchbook. He flips and flips and flips the pages without saying a single word. But his eyes speak in tides. This all sucks. It's terrible they say.

"This is so awesome." He stops at a specific sketch, I can't see which one. He stares so hard at the page it might as well come alive and slap him in the face.