noc·tu·ary
(n.) a journal of nocturnal incidents
• a park jimin au •
in which a violinist misses the last train out of the city, so reluctantly seeks help from a dancer, after which the two strangers embark on a peculiar nighttime sojourn in Ne...
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So he follows her.
Jimin walks hastily until he pauses in front of the wide alleyway where he sees the girl wandering down, away from the well lit street and into the gloom. The path is quaint, with litter dumped on the ground, the wind is stronger and the air more crisp.
Ahead of her, noisy clatters and a loud clang catches Jimin's attention. A group of three drunk men, walk unsteadily, like weakly spun spinning tops that gyrate to and fro. One of them stops for a moment, before he lurches himself and stumbles against another rubbish bin by the road, causing the trio to break into hysterical laughs.
This seems to frighten the violinist, as it should, her shoulders slightly slump and she moves out of the way, closer to the cobbled wall, keeping her head cast downward. The three begin to notice her, foul smirks play across their intoxicated faces, and just as they begin to approach her, Jimin's pace quickens from behind, jogging a few steps until he stands next to her.
"Hey honey, sorry I'm late." He announces loud enough, latching his arm across the girl's back, holding onto her shoulder and pulling her body close by his side.
Jimin hears her let a breathe out in relief.
"When that happens," he says quieter, for her to hear, as the men walk— more like sway— past them and resume slurring out chuckles, "just stare straight ahead, keep walking strong."
After a few seconds, when Jimin is sure a fair amount of distance has been placed between them and the booze heads, he glances over his shoulder and releases his firm grip, though lets his arm hang around the girl as they continue walking.
"Thank you," She says genuinely, he catches her flickering her gaze to him so he nods, "I'm sorry about back there," she moves away from Jimin's side now, taking a step forward to stand in front of him, "I was rude, I shouldn't have been."
As she clasps her hands in front of her, Jimin retracts his own into his pockets once again, ignoring the slight void of warmth he feels against his body.
"It's okay," Shrugging, he offers her a smile, "I get it, shitty nights all around," then a sigh escapes him, "believe it or not, last afternoon— well, just a few hours ago, I actually had a working credit card."
She nods in understanding.
Jimin notices her eyes soften as they fall down to his feet, trailing over his figure clothed in casual attire; plain jeans with a turtleneck sweater under a steel grey liner jacket. Suddenly self conscious under the girl's gaze, he fumbles the strap of his bandouliere, scolding himself for dressing in monochrome, just as sombre as the weather.
Though the moment gives him a chance to observe the girl too. She was dressed more formally, a trench coat worn over what seemingly looked like a dress, with a beige scarf draped loosely over her neck.
Her eyes lock with Jimin's once again, making him clear his throat as they both look away. The girl starts to shifts her weight from her heel to her toes, swinging slightly back and forth while Jimin seeks the air for words of what to say next.
