finding jupiter ° taekook

three

CHAPTER THREE

"What's this?" Yoongi, blocking all of the sunlight permeating through the window, asks. He stands in the middle of the room, his shadow suffocating all the light. He grates the surface of the crimson rock, ruby snow falling on his fingernail.

"Stop touching that," I say, shading the achromatic rock Taehyung gave to me yesterday. Fifteen different versions take up my sketchbook, each one more detailed than the other.

"Since when did you start drawing?" His shadow nears me, jamming the daylight out until the cream page has adapted a grey tinge.

"Since yesterday."

"Why are you drawing so many rocks?"

I don't answer him. Instead, my hand has become gelatinous, numbingly shading rock #16. Maybe this one is the one I'll show to Taehyung.

"Why are you being so abrasive?" I snip and the red rock Yoongi holds is thrown at my head. Ow. The spot at the top of my head tingles in pain and I'm certain I've gained a bald spot.

"I'm getting my car fixed today, want to come?" He asks, sweetly, as if he didn't toss a meteorite at my skull. I check my phone, the time a little past noon reminding me I have to meet Taehyung soon.

"Can't. Already have plans." I say, more to my notebook than Yoongi himself.

°

The silence in the spacious room almost breaks my ears off. Taehyung is quiet, positioned on the floor in front of me, flipping page after page of all the eighteen rocks I've drawn. Though we're both on the same plane of elevation, he sits taller, crouching over me.

With each still and drawing nanosecond, the art room is closings its perimeter. Light floods in tides from the windows, immersing both of us, making Taehyung glimmer, his hair, which is shielding all of his features, glistening.

"These are all so cool, Jeongguk," he finally says, snapping the iridescent air in half. There's no hint of sarcasm in his voice. I am smiling to him, I can't see it but I know I am. He's smiling back too. A two-person mirror. "I think it's the first time I've seen you smile. It's very charming."

He winks.

My whole body roars with fire; I swear I blacked out for mere seconds.

"Can I keep one of these?" Taehyung-- who is drowned in light, asks. You can keep all of them, I think but don't say, only nod. He carefully rips the page out, inch by inch, cautious not to damage the rest of the notebook. He then takes the page and folds it neatly on his thigh, before putting it in the back pocket of his jeans. Taehyung reaches next to him, into his bag, and pulls out a red cap. All of the golden hue on his head is covered as he puts it on.

"Do you want to go back to my dorm?" The first few words I've said to him today, and they are so uncool. He's probably thinking I'm a con-artist. But if he is, it's not apparent on his face; instead Taehyung's face is tinged ruby and he smiles, nodding.

We are walking side by side with the clouds, Taehyung stopping occasionally to collect stones and put them in his bag. We lumber across campus, bumping shoulders, elbows, hands. Each time, I'm tingling to grab his hand and hold it in mine. Once we are in front of my door, he breaks the silence,

"You don't stay that far from my dorm." I walk into the room once opened and he follows. "Who do you room with?"

"Yoongi."

I see his eyes enlarge and he takes a step away from Yoongi's side of the bed and inches closer to where I'm standing. We're almost chest to chest, whatever boundary we had between us disappearing.

"My roommate totally has a crush on him," Taehyung whispers in my ear and laughs, "don't tell anyone that though, he'd kill me."

"Who's your roommate?"

"Jung Hoseok."

I scoff breathlessly. Taehyung nods his head, like we both know something the rest of the world doesn't.

I feel like a time-ticking bomb as we both sit on my bed. Five, four. Taehyung looks around the room, the empty white walls leaving the impression of a prison more than a dorm room. Three, two. He looks ahead to Yoongi's side of the room, which is left messier than mine, a mine field of unwashed t-shirts, unfinished assignments, and books that have never been open.

One.

"You know," I start, an unstoppable railroad train, "I do actually talk. A lot. You're just very...weird." My heartbeat is hammering in my ears. "You and those dumb exploded stars, what's up with that anyway? They look very ordinary to me. I don't understand what is so special about them." I huff. I've already run out of words and the boy next to me only laughs as a response. He almost bumps his head into my shoulder; I'm worried he might laugh himself into oblivion.

"I don't have many friends around here," Taehyung speaks after having calmed down, "but by far, you're my favorite. I like you more than Hoseok sometimes, he talks a lot. But you--you are," he pauses, "I'd say a meteorite yourself." Taehyung pokes his elbow into my ribcage, then cracks up.

Laughter takes over the us, until our words are a repeating mantra of him calling me a meteorite. The bed below us is lightweight, both of us sitting on a cloud. Blood is gushing to my face and head, I might explode from laughter. Although, I'd rather die like this than any other way. I infer that Taehyung likes to laugh, a lot. It totally takes over him and knocks him out of his equilibrium, until he bumps his head on the bed frame, the wall, my shoulder.

After we catch our breaths, he brings his legs up and sits cross-legged.

"Although, I like being your friend, projects or not."

Are we friends? I never thought of it as such. I thought I was weird but he might be even stranger. He called me a meteorite! In an empty prison dorm room! I wish the rest of the universe had heard it. I like us being friends too.

—

me,, thinking about writing the smut for this book :O ° rion.
(also,, this might be the worst thing I've ever written, i apologize, but I am so sleep deprived I might die ((probably not tho I'm just being dramatic lol)))