occasional stalker // jjk

the one with the stalker

"Look, Y/N is now not the first," someone commented in a surprised tone. You moved closer to the stand where students' rating hung and as usual looked at the first line where your name was originally written for three years straight, but for the first time, you didn't see it there. You weren't upset or anything, you were confused.

"Jeon Jungkook..." you repeated to yourself already heading to leave the school, because you just had your last class.

How that boy managed to take your place? In school, there even was a joke like, "the list starts from the second number". From now on you were the second.

After circulating those thoughts in your mind few more times, you eventually became annoyed by practically nothing. Not a single word came out of your mouth but strangers on the street could feel your concealed wistfulness by just looking at the gloomy expression on your face. Evidently, that fact of being the second wasn't that idle as you first thought it would be.

Sun was glimmering through the leaves which only started to turn orange on the edges, and shadows were dancing on your hair as you were strolling sluggishly with your head down, not even bothering yourself with looking around. The street around was noisy but you abstracted yourself deep into your thoughts.

"That guy," you muttered to yourself, annoyed. "Again!"

When you approached the crossroad and had to wait for the green on the traffic light, you noticed that you were followed by a strange guy again. When it was a day, you weren't scared, but when mom send you to the grocery store and the sun was quivering on the horizon, you weren't that confident.

Stopped by the gates, you waited for the guy to approach you on the safe distance and turned his attention by a really shrill "hey". The guy stopped momentarily and looked at you, surprised.

"I'm asking you not to follow me all the way to my house for whatever reason you stalk me," you said calmly, forcing your voice not to crack into yelling. "It's been 10 months, how long will you do this? I bet you haven't seen anything interesting, have you?"

"I-I'm not stalking you," guy stuttered as he was caught off guard by your sudden statement. Your face changed emotions between confusion and embarrassment, but you took yourself under control, managing to mumble short "what".

"I live next to you," he continued a bit more relaxed.

This was as unexpected as snow in the middle of the summer, you were totally zoned out for a minute before gasping soundly and murmuring "sorry" apologetically.

"No big deal," he shrugged his shoulders and smiled slightly, leaving you standing next to your gates and feeling extremely embarrassed.

You traced your gaze after him and opened your mouth in awe when saw how he entered the house next to yours. A handsome neighbor was the vain dream of all girls and, of course, yours too, however, that guy seemed to be too familiar but you couldn't remember where you met him.

"Probably school, yes, he might attend the same one," you whispered and opened your gates not leaving your eyes off the closed door.

You had two hours to prepare yourself for the tennis training and get to the court thus you hastily gathered your uniform and packed it into the school bag. Not paying attention to any distractions. like unwashed dishes in the sink or undone from the morning rush bed, you took a quick refreshing shower and, with your hair ends streaming with water on your shoulders, took your bag and the racket, and went to the bus stop.

To your own surprise, you found the neighbor guy waiting for the bus. He threw a glance at you, holding you silent, but then peremptorily called for you by your name. He evidently noticed that this was a bit too unexpected even for him as he saw you jolted and looked at him with rounded eyes.

"You know my name?" you inquired cautiously, leaning forward a little.

"Is it such a secret? The whole school knows it," he flashed his brows at you and looked away for the bus.

You felt the urgency to save this dying conversation since you still felt a bit stiff about the incident earlier. Quickly analyzing the situation, you found a really decent question which probably could lead the discussion somewhere.

"We didn't meet before, you know, isn't that strange?" you started while nervously fidgeting the string of your bag. The guy, on the other hand, was relaxed and confident, without any doubt you could call him a playboy. His plain white t-shirt was fluttering as the wind was crawling under it, but the guy seemed completely fine with it, standing with his hands stuffed into jeans pockets. He looked at you and gave you that one-sided smile that people usually refer to haughtiness, but, despite that smirk, his eyes were glimmering with kindness.

"My name is Jeon Jungkook, you should know me," he shoved you his hand and you gently shook it, comprehending his statement. The moment after you felt how a sort of astonished utter arose to your lips but you gulped it down. This exhibition of self-sufficiency drew a stunned reaction from you. "Kinda sorry for taking your place," he laughed, and you remembered that you saw his name on the rating.

"Ah-" you gasped, looking around and trying to find something to say. The conversation just turned out to be a real challenge. "Don't be, I'm completely fine with it."

"That's cool! Now sorry again, that's my bus," he rashly ended this awkward from all sides dialog and pointed his finger at the arrived bus. You turned your head and managed to yell short "wait" before it drove away. You dashed from your place and jumped inside.

You apologetically bowed to the driver and paid for the drive, going inside. A hand rose from the back seat and beckoned you. Awkwardly smiling to Jungkook, you sat next to him placing your bag on your lap and trying to avoid any kind of contact with him.

"Where are you going?" he asked in that friendly manner as if he knew you for the good part of his life, unlike he just got acquainted with you few minutes earlier.

"Um, to the training, and you?"

"Same."

Your gaze traveled from his protrusile collar bones that t-shirt revealed rakishly to his pale hands with the mole a little above elbow bend which he held onto his black sport bag you noticed only now. But what took your whole attention was the white and blue racket edge, sticking out of his bag. The racket which seemed to be played with really often since the paint erased on some parts and revealed gray metallic shine.

Connecting all parts of the puzzle together you got a full picture, which you didn't like at first...