Strawberries and Cigarettes | jikook ✓

taught

i don't think i can ever imagine you being a bad guy.

"Five, six, seven, eight."

Jimin glided his feet along the floor as graceful as ever, his cloth shoes stuck to the skin beneath his feet. His arms moved about like the spread out wings of a robin, so effortless and calculated. He could feel the music resonate through every cell in his body. The burning of his feet egged him on further as he strived to make his movements as perfect as possible. Suddenly the music stopped and a familiar shrill voice boomed throughout the room. If the voice were any louder than it was at the moment, Jimin was sure the mirror stretching along the length of the wall would have shattered.

"Park Jimin! You're one of our top students. I expect more from you. Where is your energy?"

Jimin wiped the sweat off his eyebrows and looked at his feet. He hated himself the most right this instant. Dance was something that had been a part of him for as long as he could remember. And not being able to perfect that made him hate himself.

"I'm sorry. I'll try harder."

The teacher narrowed her eyes at him and started the music again, this time her hawk eyes concentrating only on Jimin rather than the other students in the room. "You better do well. You're on a scholarship here because we think you're good."

Jimin stared at his reflection in the mirror and started again. This time though he had hardly gotten through the first minute when the music stopped again.

"What's wrong with you today?" The teacher asked exasperatedly, causing all the other students to pause and look at Jimin with concerned eyes. "Stay here and practice for an hour. Understood? Others may disperse."

As people left the room one by one, Jimin closed his eyes and hugged himself. He didn't understand why the teacher was being so hard on him. His feet burned and complained, his hands ached, his head hurt from exerting himself more than his capacity would allow. Yet he continued, his steps not faltering, his resolve not weakening. He didn't keep track of time either. Just kept going until he felt his knees give out and fell to the floor. He looked up at the clock that hung on the wall and noticed it had been two hours. His body protested as he stood up and stumbled over to his bag to pack up his things. He would have to run otherwise he would be late for work. He sat down, slumped against the wall as he took off his cloth shoes. A pained whine left his mouth at the sight of irritated chipped skin and green bruises along his heel.

Jimin reached the café on time, thankfully, but his feet ached and threatened to give away with every little step he took. The cash register was back to work so Jimin had to go back to taking orders and wiping tables, which took every bit of his barely remaining energy away and left him drained to the bone.

The bell jingled as a boy with raven black hair walked in, keeping true to his word about coming to the café everyday. He took his seat on the same table as last time and looked around, eyes searching for Jimin and gleaming when they found the boy walking towards his table with a notepad in hand.

"Hey," Jungkook muttered, taking over Jimin's appearance. For some reason he looked worn out and tired, as if he would collapse if a sharp wind blew over. Jungkook also noticed he had been limping, or maybe it was just his imagination.

"Hello," a sweet voice greeted him back but Jungkook could hear the slight strain hidden behind it. "Same order as last time?"

Jungkook pretended to think for a moment before placing his hands on the table and connecting his intense gaze to Jimin's now wide eyes.

"What's your favourite drink here?"

"Um," Jimin scratched his head with the pen in his hand. "I- I like the strawberry caramel smoothie."