Touch | k.t | Editing!!!!

0.4

"beating and beating. my heart beats for you"

With sweaty palms and a heavy backpack, I head into my art class, the heels of my boots thudding against the cement of the building.

My eyes stare at my empty seat and then I see Gayeon and my racing heartbeat slows down. I let my feet take me to her, my sweating hands nestled in the comfort of my pockets. 

"Gayeon! Hey." I plant a smile on my face, and as she looks up from her phone, I take a seat. 

Like always, Gayeon looks stunning. Wearing a plaid skirt that matches her loose white blouse and the white beret on her head. Gayeon has a thing for berets, a thing for Paris really. I never really understood-- her desire to want to leave Korea forever and move to France to work in a bakery or something. It seemed like too much of a dream. 

Her pink lips part as her soft, melodic, voice slips out from between her teeth, "Sorry I didn't come to the last class. I was working on this stupid assignment for my art history class." 

I didn't say anything. I had nothing to say. But it didn't matter because Gayeon liked talking, so she kept talking while I sat there, completely transfixed. 

Gayeon was one of those girls that could be speaking about nothing and yet make 'nothing' sound interesting. Her mind moved faster than her brain, so fast, her mouth didn't have time to catch up on occasion. She was just energetic, artistic, and one of the prettiest girls I've ever met. 

"I was in class and this new student walked in. She sat next to my friend Ahyeon-- anyway. It was weird because like, it was this dude, right? But he was pretty. Not handsome or anything... pretty. It's like the whole room just stopped. Do you think he'll show up today? I mean, he's in my visual arts class. He'll show up, right? Maybe? Oh my god, you've got to see him." 

I sit and laugh, watching as the thoughts fall out of her mouth one by one. I've never really spoken to Gayeon about boys. Once, Jungkook stopped by so we could go out for ice cream and Gayeon said he was cute, and then he mentioned he was gay and she just pouted and sighed. But since then, there's been no mention of boys. 

I turned back around, my hands digging for my stuff inside my canvas bag. The class was about to start and I still hadn't set up. 

Just as my hands were placing my sketchbook, Taehyung walked in. He was wearing gray sweatpants and the school's hoodie, his feet hugged by his ratty Nike's. Still, despite his outfit, and the bags under his eyes, his skin glowed under the dim light of the studio. His semi-curly hair bounced with every step-- Taehyung was pretty. The prettiest. 

"Oh my god," Gayeon's voice filled my right ear, "That's him." 

I froze. I turned to face her, eyes widening both with shock and fear. She just gave me a look I couldn't recognize or read. 

Taehyung, like the pain in the ass he is, decided to take a seat beside me because why not? He's Kim Taehyung. He thrives off of making people nervous around him, loves it when people stop functioning because of him. 

"'Sup." His voice rang through both my ears suddenly. He hadn't been loud, and still, it's like he held a megaphone up to my ear. 

Gayeon's mouth opened wide, "You know him?" 

I don't say anything. I can't say anything. Taehyung chuckles and I keep myself from punching him in the gut. Asshole. 

I turn my head so that I'm facing the center of the room, where Madame Areum was setting up our object for the day.