Late Night Radio || Yoonmin #Wattys2018

♪Small♪

Jimin Focus

The rustling and extending of the sheets and springs brought Jimin out of his dozing. A small breeze shook the pink-tinted curtains as periwinkle and rose fell in the small flecks of dust streaming through the window.

Jimin turned to face the red eyes of his friend's side table clock.

6:30

"Fuck." He groaned, rolling over into the still-warm dip that proved Taehyung had just gotten up.
He could hear murmuring and the small beeping of the coffee machine out in. The kitchen before the croak of the front door Jimin had grown so familiar with over the years.

"Joon?" Tae's baritone voice bounced back to the bedroom.

"I need to talk to Jimin." Said boy went ram rod stiff. He looked out the window and saw the tangling weeds and thorns of the brush overgrown. It would be messy, but maybe he could jump out the window and make a hedgehogs gold and blue spin back to his home. There were a few slurs and mumbled for a while, the scratching of chairs and a small clatter of what might've been a mug until a choked,

"He's back there." Was heard from Tae.

Jimin waited, clenching the blankets in his tiny fists. His eyes trained on the door until it cracked open, he watch the clerk's brown-ish-red hair poke through the opening.
The older tripped on his way in and smiled- unbothered by his unceremonious, clumsy entrance.

"Hey, Jimin. How are you?" He asked.

"I'm okay." He blushed, tugging up the blanket so it went over his exposed thighs. "Is Yoon- is he alright?" Pain flared and constricted his vocal chords like a snake.
Namjoon pushed out his lower lip in thought, brows sinching together while looking over the bed-headed junior.

"He's been beating himself up something terrible, but I'm sure he'd really like to see you." The taller boy made his way over and sat down on the bed next to him. "Yoongi isn't very good at expressing his feelings- 'works better with music than he does with people."

That's not true. The brunet thought. He seemed perfectly comfortable with me before.

"It's too soon." Jimin shook his head. "If he wanted to see me he could've texted me." He picked up his phone and checked just in case. No calls. No texts. Only scrolls and scrolls of SoundCloud banners.

"He's been pretty quiet at the studio. Jin said he hasn't come home for a while- you know how much work he has. Finals are coming up since it's almost the end of the quarter too." Joon nodded.
Jimin felt weighted.

I hope he's sleeping enough- eating enough. His shoulders sagged and the distant, prolonged moan of a train horn fell into his ears. He acknowledged the railed beast and its forlornness as an equal in emotional numbness.

"I wish he would've-" Jimin sighed. "I wish I could've found out differently."

Taehyung walked into the room with a hand on his hip and a bright red and yellow chipped mug that looked way too small in his hands.
He leaned himself up against the doorframe, trying to look serious.
His facade probably worked wonders on Namjoon, but Jimin could very clearly see the wobbling smile hidden under his heart shaped lips.

"You two should come into the kitchen. I made coffee and Jimin needs to eat something. Hyung, you're welcome to anything in the fridge or pantry if you want it." He spoke slowly, taking a short, proper sip from his cup. Jimin nodded, finally looking up to the older.

"Sounds good. Thank you for you hospitality, Mr. Vante." He smirked, sending a wink to the athlete. Tae nodded, pushing away from the doorway as walking down the hall in casual, long strides.
Jimin would've been pretty impressed at how strongly his best friend carried out his acting, had he not made a strangled sound as soon as he was in the kitchen.