study with me ✎ m.yg x p.jm

서른다섯

*important a/n at the end*

i personally think that the progress is taking a bit longer than i thought sooo

time skip: 1 year (chill chill chill)

"i fucking hate finals." jimin huffs from my desk.

"trust me babe, everyone does." i hear my pencil snap. "god dammit!"

i get up from my place on my bed and go over to my bag, grabbing another pencil since i was too lazy to find a sharpener.

finals were coming up, and senior year has been the worst - academically speaking - year that most kids have ever had. most teachers ended up being removed from the school, quitting, or getting promotions to other schools so many times during the year that substitutes were always the ones teaching us. basically, we learned very close to nothing this year, and it would definitely bite some kids in the ass when they got the response letter from their dream college.

thankfully, the college i had dreamed of wasn't really going to look at my roughly b's, rather whatever i sent in with my application. i'd spent the last year packing down on my dreams and learning about music production, i even made a very shitty song in the mix. i found out that rapping suited me better than singing, and usually in my free time i'd even come up with lyrics for unmade songs. if i had free time, that is.

jimin just wanted to go to a performing arts college, which there were plenty of around, so i was worried. it didn't take long to go anywhere in this country, anyway. maybe 6 hours from top to bottom, but that didn't bother me really.

right now, we were studying. trying to, at least, with what little material we knew of.

"can't we be given like, an exception because the fucking school system broke down this year?" jimin moans from my chair.

"nope." i say, popping the p.

"...i don't wanna study... it's stupid." he stretches, getting up. i chuckle a little bit at his childish reasoning.

"yeah, but it helps. sometimes." i mumble the last part. jimin comes and takes a seat next to me on the bed, making it bounce a little.

"sometimes." he mumbles back, obviously having heard my comment.

i look up at him, making him look away from my binder. "jimin, you don't even have mr. nam at all, why are you trying to look at my notes?" i laugh.

"well, he's history, right? just because i have mrs. lee for history doesn't mean i have a different curriculum." it's a bit muffled when he says it, his palm being squished against his mouth, puffing out his lips.

i try to continue studying for the final exam, despite jimin being right next me, which was a pretty big distraction, to be honest. and i was doing well, too, until jimin sneakily placed his hand on my thigh, leaving it there casually.

i felt the heat rush to my face, but also rush somewhere else. i tried my absolute best to keep reading my notes, but i had to reread every bullet point about 3 times before i could even comprehend what i was reading. jimin suddenly squeezed my thigh before taking it off to close my notes, making me look at him.

he stood up, going to the foot of the bed. i couldn't take my eyes off him, but when could i ever?

"notes are boring." he states, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. in his eyes was one of my favorite looks he could give. he pulls off his shirt in one swift movement, exposing his clear, toned skin. even after a year, he still maintained his perfectly sculpted body that made me weak in the knees.