Late Night Radio || Yoonmin #Wattys2018

♪Auburn♪

Jimin Focus

Sunday mornings were absolutely bullshit. Jimin had learned- as soon as he entered high school actually- that he he very truly and passionately hated Sunday's.

Sure, it was the weekend, but the anxiety of Monday always hit the small boy as soon as he woke up; always just a little too early and unable to fall back asleep. His limbs would be kicking, twisting and body'd be tweaked uncomfortably under his pancake stack of blankets.

However, he'd have to dismiss this default dislike for Sunday's just this once, being that he and Yoongi would be hanging out at his place until the older had to head to the station. They'd talked over the phone until midnight the night before and Jimin felt a tug in his muscles and under his ribs- itching to see the older boy again.

Jimin huffed out an eager sigh with thoughts in his head. Both small hands of his stretched up over his head before falling to tangle his fingers all in his brunet bedhead. His shoulders quivered as a morning shiver tickled his sides and under his knees; they shook.

He'd been staying at Tae's house since the incident with his father... it'd been a couple weeks since the date. Of all the horrible that'd come from that night, all he could seem to stress his mind to remember was how Yoongi's hair had looked in the pitch black. How a few shines of the color would go up in sparks as the tumbled under almost after lamppost. How his hand remained unshaken, even with bloodied and bruised knuckles, Yoongi was solid and right there for him.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes again, his feet spun out of the sheets and fell softly onto a carpeted floor. He dragged Tae's comforter along with him as he stood up; cape tied around his shoulders and falling in elegant swoops down his back, to his feet.

He rolled his neck and commenced his trek to the kitchen, stopping to squish the coffee-cream colored carpet in the living room between his toes.

"Morning~" Tae gurgled warmly from his slumped spot at the kitchen table; the boys honey-face near drowning in his soggy, barely touched bowl of cocoa oat cereal.

Probably added too much sugar... Jimin swept the thought, opening up the fridge in search of Mr. Kim's whole grain waffles and syrup- not bothering to even warm one up as he drank a sip of the sap and bit a cold one.

"Tae." Jimin yawned, flapping his cape to the side, kicking the leg of the table. The dream drunken boy snapped up, reflexively checking his phone before huffing. "Waiting for a good morning?"

"He's late..." Tae pouted.

"He might just be tired and slept in. It's the weekend." Jimin shrugged.

"I guess." The younger sighed.

"You copped yet?"

"I wish." The athlete groaned. "He said he wanted to show me something important but never specified when and what."

Looking outside the boys swam in the push and pull of energy in the dark morning sky.
It was expected to rain again; Jimin hoped it'd be the sort of day where hot chocolate steamed on the table, the sun poured drips of ichor through the small falls in the filter of precipitation, the TV filled up voids of silence and animosity as heaters pumped blood through the houses all around the city.