Puppetry - P.JM. [ON-HOLD]

Fifteen

I picked up a dish on the counter, heading over to the sink with it. I felt a slight smile on my face, feeling like I was floating on a cloud. The past couple weeks felt like I was in a dream, escaping the nightmare that had just taken place. I didn't really know what was real anymore, but I didn't seem to care. I was happy, and that's all that mattered.

I heard heels clack into the room, the wood floors echoing in the empty house. I ignored them, placing the dish into the sink basin, my hair slightly falling into my face as I did so. After placing it down, I reached up, tucking the strand of hair behind my ear gently. I wasn't used to having my hair down, but it felt nice in a way.

"What are you doing cleaning?"

I turned around, my dress turning with me, the skirt brushing against my ankles. I found Taehyung to be standing at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the wall as he watched me. He smirked a bit, his brown eyes sparkling. 

He wore a dark green button-up shirt, the buttons black, polished shells. The cuffs of the sleeves danced with a lighter green that you could only find in light. He wore black dress pants, black, shiny shoes on his feet. His red hair seemed to brighten the room from how intense the color was. I saw the patches of tattoos along his skin, seeming to be too familiar.

I smiled back a bit, feeling myself wanting to become shy. I pushed it away. There was no use for being scared in life. "I thought I would help the cleaning process."

He laughed a bit at me, not as some sort of mockery or of being mean, but it was as if he found myself to be funny. I didn't find it threatening. It seemed as if he thought I was cute or innocent. "That's for the puppets to do. You don't have to do anything."

I rolled my eyes, fixing the waist of my dress. I wasn't used to anything hugging me. Just looking down at the dress, it was a darker blue, almost becoming a purple. Little pearls and black gems lined the belt around my waist that squeezed against me. The fabric was a smooth silk, the top exposing my upper chest, my arms in the open for once. I felt a bit revealing, but compared to other dresses that were at the party, I was the least exposed.

"Do you like the dress?" Taehyung said. I looked up, seeing him starting to approach me, his hands in his pockets. He smiled, not seeming to see me as a prize or an object. He looked at me like I was a normal human being, finding someone attractive yet giving personal space. I think that was the most enjoyable trait of him. 

"I mean, sure," I said with a small laugh. I reached up with a hand, running my fingertips over my left clavicle. It felt so weird. "It's very pretty but . . . "

"But what?"

I looked up, finding Taehyung standing seams away. He was staring down at me curiously, his head tilted to the side a bit. His eyes still sparkled, but no smile was left on his face. I bit down on my lip for a second, trying to collect my thoughts and to stop my racing heart.

"When would I wear it? Plus, I don't even think I look that great in it," I said gently, my voice coming out quietly. My fingers were still touching my clavicle, feeling the bones that held me together. I was finding my body to be foreign more and more. 

Taehyung's hand reached out, grabbing onto my hand that was against my skin and bone. He laced his fingers with mine, pulling me closer to him. As I took a step, his other hand landed on my waist on top of the belt. His hand brought mine against his chest, it holding it there as he stared down at me.

"Why would you ever think that?" he asked me quietly. "Why would the most beautiful girl I have ever met in my life be so self conscious about herself?"