seduction in literature | p.jm + m.yg

05 | sandwich

Jimin groggily lifts his head as he feels someone shaking his arm. The vision of Yoongi staring at him gradually comes into view, and Jimin blushes almost instantly, glad that the warm glow from the street lamps helps to hide the reddened apples of his cheeks.

"We're here," Yoongi mutters as he stares out of the driver's window, his eyes observing the littlest details of his student's apartment.

The studio apartment is quaint, with small potted flowers and mini cactuses peeking out from behind window panes, and the exterior of the house is painted in streaks of deep royal blue. Jimin lives on the second storey, the building consisting of only three floors. Yoongi finds the picturesque, sweet-looking home absolutely perfect for Jimin, and for a moment, he doesn't know why he's even thinking of that.

Jimin notices that the rain has died down to a slow drizzle, and as he unbuckles his seatbelt, he wonders how to thank his teacher without making things weird. He did drive you home after all, Jimin, the pink-haired boy frets. Oh god, is it normal for teachers to drop off their students?

"Thank you for the ride... uh, home, Mr Min," Jimin whispers quietly, wincing in horror as he realises how wrong his sentence sounds. He bites his lip nervously.

"You're welcome," Yoongi doesn't seem to notice, and he proceeds to give his student a small nod, and Jimin smiles bashfully before reaching to open the door.

All of a sudden, a hand reaches out to block him from getting out of the door, and Jimin freezes in his spot, his face flushed from the close proximity. Jimin tries his very best to ignore the foreign feeling of his teacher's arm against his chest, but the rapid thumping of his heart against his ribcage serves as a clear indicator that the boy was anything but calm.

"Wait." Jimin hears a soft mutter, and then he sees his teacher fumbling to grab the umbrella lying beside the driver's seat. Jimin can only stare in quiet awe as Yoongi exits the car with an umbrella over his head, coolly making his way to the passenger's side. Within seconds, the car door opened, and Jimin is frozen in his place as he gawks at Yoongi and that towering black umbrella.

"It's still raining," Yoongi coughs, and Jimin instantly dashes out of his seat, almost knocking his teacher over if not for the arm that reaches out to steady him. Trying his best to ignore just how close he's snuggled against Yoongi's chest, Jimin feebly stumbles alongside him, and the two gradually make their way to the main gate. All Jimin can hear is the faint pitter patter of rain against the umbrella, and all of a sudden, it feels as if they're trapped in their very own bubble, their very own space — a space that Jimin is sure that only he is aware of.

The pair comes to a halt soon enough, and there seems to be a lingering tension in the air despite the silence. Jimin notices that Yoongi is uncomfortable, and Jimin notices a lot of things. The man's knuckles are turning white from the tightening grip on his umbrella, and his legs fidget unconsciously, the balls of his feet not planted firm on the ground.

Mr Min doesn't seem to be a fidgety person, Jimin ponders. And he doesn't look nervous either. What is it?

"I'll get going now," Yoongi murmurs, his eyes staring deep into Jimin's. The boy nods, embarrassment and disappointment filling his gut. It would be weird to invite my teacher in, wouldn't it?

"Okay," Jimin says quietly, and then he sees it. He sees the look in Yoongi's eyes — a dull pain, one that is fleeting and brief, and Jimin unconsciously takes a step back, wondering if he's seeing things right.

"Goodnight." The man's voice is hoarse, hurried, and if anything, guilt-stricken.

"Goodnight," Jimin replies, confusion etched across his features.