Techni-Color | YoonMin

Chapter 5

I make my way through the halls, my color slowly fading to gray as I leave Jimin behind me. I try not to let myself dwell on the loss of color. I need to get over it. I never had it before and I didn't need it now. I didn't need colors, or the boy who brought them to me, to live a happy life.

Pushing the doors open, I make my way outside, looking for Namjoon. Spotting him sitting on a bench, I walk over to him, tapping on his shoulder.

"Come on," I said, walking towards my house, knowing he'd follow me, "Let's go. I'm starving."

Namjoon easily caught up to my short stride. I saw him look down at me, searching for any clues as to what had just happened between me and Jimin on my face. Getting no clues from my expression, he must have just decided to ask me what happened.

"Soooo," he said, trying to sound nonchalant about it, "What just happened?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Nothing much. He just misunderstood something, I cleared it up."

By the look on his face, I knew that answer didn't satisfy him. Namjoon was the kind of person that was always curious, always wanted to know more. Usually I found his love for knowledge impressive, but right now it was just annoying. I would tell him eventually, but honestly I didn't feel like opening that conversation right now.

"What do you want for lunch," I ask, steering the conversation to a different topic.

At the mention of food, Namjoon's ears perked up.

"I want meat," he said, not exactly giving me anything to work with.

"I'll make hamburgers then, okay?"

Nodding, he follows me into my building. Climbing the stairs to my floor, I start to wonder why I didn't move into a building with an elevator. I hate exercise or anything like that, so why did I have to choose a place where I had to climb 3 flights of stairs just to get to my apartment?

Once we finally reach my floor, I open my door and Namjoon pushes past me, making himself right at home. He plops down on my couch, turning the TV on and putting on some kind of documentary. Ignoring him, I go straight to the kitchen to start making lunch.

As I get to work cooking, I let my mind wander to a small pink-haired boy.

I wonder if he's okay. I may have been a bit harsh before. Maybe I should have let him down gently.

Shaking my head, I push the thoughts from my head. It was better this way after all. It's not like I lied to him. I really didn't want a boyfriend. Maybe some part of me, deep deep down, wanted one, but I refused to give in to my family's expectations of me.

They expected me to find my soulmate and start living my life with them right away. Why would I do that? What sane person jumps into a relationship with someone they don't even know?

I hadn't even known Jimin for a full 24 hours. Supposed "soulmate" or not, that wasn't enough time to decide if a romantic relationship was a good route to take. Hell, that wasn't even enough time to decide if I wanted to be friends with him or not.

Once again pushing my Jimin thoughts aside, I place the food on plates. Walking to the kitchen, I hand Namjoon his. He moved to the floor, setting his plate down on my coffee table. I sat beside him, leaning my back against the front of the couch.

"Don't drop anything. And please, please, don't break my plate."

He nodded, returning his attention to the TV in front of him.

We sat in silence, eating our meals. I ate slowly, Namjoon finishing long before me. When I had finally finished, Namjoon took our plates to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water. I watched as he sat down, trying not to spill anything on my carpet.