A Jikook Fanfic;
Jungkook is a new university student studying art and multimedia who is also struggling with his social anxiety when he meets a group of older guys in his school who refuse to leave him alone. A boy with peach colored hair, Jimin, i...
The last day of the weekend flew past, and mom and I take turns hugging Jung-hyun as we say our goodbyes. He has a flight to catch to Japan since he's filming another movie.
"Remember what I said, little brother," he says to me, focusing a look onto my face.
I give him my biggest smile, "Yes, hyung, I'll remember."
He ruffles my hair before turning to mom, and they exchange their warm words as I turn back into the house. Tomorrow will be here quickly, how am I supposed to just casually talk to the boy I've been dreaming about for years?
I feel a crease form between my brows, and sweat starts to collect in my palms. I sigh before wiping my hands on my jeans: ten. I mean, he doesn't realize I've seen him before, and he doesn't have to know.
That's right! He doesn't have to know!
I smile, and clench my fist; I can do it. It'll be okay. I'll just be nice, and it'll be fresh! He never has to know that I feel like I already know him. He doesn't need to know any of it.
My smile starts to fade, but I shake my head. It'll be fine, I try to repeat to myself.
"Jungkook," my mom calls from the kitchen.
"Yes?"
"Dinner will be finished in 20 minutes, so make sure you're ready to eat then."
"I will! I won't shower long," I assure her.
"We'll see about that," she teases.
"Mom! My gosh," I chuckle as I shut the door behind me.
I feel a smile surface again, and I find myself going through the dance moves that I watched Taehyung's friend do from his performance; I feel silly but, as quiet as possible, I go through the motions he made to convey the action of being hit, and I throw my head to the side. I rub the nape of my neck as I look at my reflection, feeling ridiculous. A sigh builds in my chest, but my smile doesn't falter; he is so powerful to watch. I wish I remembered his name from when Taehyung told it to me, I think to myself.
With thoughts about the dancer floating through my mind, I undress and start the water. Without thinking, I start humming a tune that has been plaguing me, but I never gave body to it before. Words come to mind, and they are clumsy; I string them together anyways. I put my head under the water as I start to softly sing aloud, following the silent melody in my head.
I go through the motions of showering—shampoo, rinse, conditioner, rinse, scrub body, rinse—but my mind is elsewhere, a place where I haven't been able to go for a long time: the place where music lives inside me. The shower seems to pass quickly which is unusual for me, but I find myself wanting to write down what I remember of the tune and the words that follow it. I step out and quickly towel dry my hair before wrapping the towel around my waist; I peek down the hall to see if the coast is clear, and it is. I quietly dash around the corner to my room, and I don't bother with clothes. I sit at my desk, my towel protecting my bum from the chilly leather, and I write.
I hum along as I pen down the tentative lyrics, and I find myself singing softly, "You are the cause of my euphoria."
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I set the pen down, and I lean back in my chair, hands folded in my lap. I play the sentence over in my mind, and I feel a smile slide over my face. I'm grinning when I hear my mom call for me, and a close my eyes to nod to myself. I think that fits him.
I get up to open the door, and I poke my head out, "I'll be there in a second, mom!"
I make my way back to my desk, and I tuck the paper into a secret cubby I carved out of the underside of the wood. I hum the tune again as I dress myself, finding that I like it the more I think about it. Euphoria.
I exit my room and fall into my chair at the table, smiling. I'll definitely talk to him tomorrow.
