mischief || kth [✓]

Pt.15

"How can someone possibly be this dumb." You ask yourself, sighing as your cheek rests on the textbook, resisting the urge to bang your head against the table repeatedly in hope that some of the words will magically transfer to your memory.

It's been quite a while since you had woken up from a reasonably normal day, Jin's car already taken away by said man (though he didn't leave without a hit upside the head for the scheme him and the guys planned by leaving you with Taehyung) and you were currently trying to, hopefully, understand the homework that was given. Though it was quite a chore, with all the words jumbled in your brain as you could barely register what was on the book at all.

Oh, and Taehyung's music blasting from all the way downstairs.

From what you could guess, he was trying to play a saxophone or something and, in all honesty, it sounded like a ship's horn of some sort and it was driving you insane. He became sober a long time ago and yet he still acted as if he came back from drinking again, just what was up with his personality?!

The only thing that was stopping you from physically beating him up was the fact that you, comically, couldn't face him. Every time you looked at him your gaze couldn't help but flicker to his stupidly kissable lips and remember the exact details of yesterday. It was childish, yes, especially since he most likely didn't even remember it, and even if he did it would mean nothing to him. Nothing.

You've been successfully ignoring him since you last left him; when he passed out on his bed the night of the party. You weren't about to look at him again, not yet.

Well, that's what you thought until you heard him suddenly stop completely, not even giving you a second to register your short-lived relief before he blasted the volume impossibly higher, almost as if he wanted to annoy you, and it broke the last piece of patience, or better yet, sanity, left in you.

You were gritting your teeth as you open your door harshly, stomping out and spotting him being ridiculously immersed in what he's doing, spinning around the couch with his saxophone making sounds that you couldn't even consider music anymore, only sounding as if he wanted to make as much noise as possible and it pissed you off to the point of considering murder.

"Stop!" He made a dramatic pose by bending backwards with his saxophone lifted higher before standing straight, spinning one more time before positioning himself properly, glancing at you through half lidded eyes with a cocked brow as if he's amused by you. You almost thought he listened to you when you watched him stop, releasing a groan of annoyance when he inhaled deeply and continued playing in front of you, still spinning stupidly.

You click your tongue when you spot a speaker in the corner of your peripheral vision, sitting innocently on the counter as it made the sound even louder than it actually was. You hurriedly unplug it and furrow your brows when you see that it didn't make much of a difference to the volume, turning around and seeing three other speakers plugged into different corners of the spacious living room. Damn him.

You walk up to him- having to back away first to avoid him accidentally swinging his saxophone at you- before roughly flicking his forehead, the male immediately whining and gently laying the instrument on the couch before rubbing the sore spot.

"What was that for?" And yet he still had the audacity to ask such a thing.

"Are you serious-? You freaking-..." You release a noise of irritation and lightly punch his stomach, the man clutching the spot exaggeratedly as you roll your eyes.

"How else was I going to call your attention?" He asks, pouting, "You've been avoiding me since this morning!"

"Um," Shit, he noticed, "was I?" You laugh nervously as he stared, a blank expression on his features.