whipped. // yoonmin

3.

The next few weeks after that little encounter at the nurse's office were absolute hell. Jimin only ever saw Suga during class, and even then, he only ever looked straight at the teacher. He had a hard time believing that he was actually listening to the lesson, but he tried his best to act like he didn't care.

But God, did he care. He didn't know why after such a little time of knowing this boy, not talking to him made his heart ache, and not looking at him made him feel like his day was incomplete. Most of the time, Jimin spent his free time talking to Taehyung, who always managed to cheer him up, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't wish he were with Suga instead.

There would be times when he'd have a little extra time getting ready in the morning, so instead of going straight to school, he would make an extra lunch box for Suga, who never seemed to eat anything in the canteen. However, despite his kindness, he was only ever met with a blank stare. He never took the food. Nonetheless, Jimin kept trying.

What happened in the nurse's office? He was starting to open up, Jimin knew it. Why was he suddenly holding back?

Jimin's thoughts were interrupted by Suga turning to look at him, the boy trying his best not to meet his eyes. His mouth fell open slightly, trying to find the right words to say. "Y- yes?"

Suga raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you hear what the teacher said? She said to do the project with your partner, weirdo."

Without another word, he brought his chair towards Jimin's, so close that their arms brushed against each other whenever he moved. He did his best to try not to think about it, but with how warm he felt against him, it was hard not to. He focused on trying to explain everything their teacher had just told them, how they were supposed to make an essay talking about courage.

Though he tried to stay calm, Jimin's heartbeat quickened. This project meant they'd finally get to spend some time alone together, and that was more than he could ask for.

With a giddy smile on his face, he tried his best to listen to what Suga was saying, nodding when needed and answering him whenever he asked something. It went this way until the bell rang, and beads of sweat started to form on his forehead as he tapped Suga's shoulder.

"Hey, shouldn't we work on the project? We can... go to your house, maybe?"

Suga suddenly felt like throwing up. Bring Jimin to his home? Have him see just how fucked up his life was, show him how fucked up he was?

"Stop it, you're going to kill her."

Even as he was choking on his own blood, Suga still managed to keep up his calm façade, weakly trying to pull his father away from his mother's trembling form. This earned him a slap in the face, one so hard that he fell to the floor, back slamming into the side of their broken coffee table.

Suga allowed himself to drift into nothingness, nothing to listen to other than his mother's sobbing. Unbeknownst to him, a tear was sliding down his cheek.

What had he done to deserve this life?

Suga grunted, quickly shaking his head. "We go to your house. Here's my number," he paused to quickly scribble his number onto Jimin's arm, "text me your address. I'll be there at four."

He ignored the spark he felt run through his fingertips as soon as they touched, instead grabbing his back and walking away in a hurry as the bell rang.

Jimin spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning his room, making sure everything was in pristine condition. He put his stuffed toys in his cabinet, not wanting Suga to have another reason to make fun of him. He stood still for a moment before deciding to put away his makeup, shoving it in a small box that he kept under his bed.