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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"Hey, you're not even dressed for a wedding."
Winter pales their skin and their noses are numb, tinted with a light shade of pink as the two were sat on a bench to the side of the payphone.
"Huh?" Jimin snaps out of a momentarily daze, glancing to the violinist cluelessly, "Wedding?" He repeats out loud to himself, before he is reminded, "Oh, right— no, it's a reception actually."
"Okay then," Kyara's tone rises a notch excitedly as she pushes herself off the coldness of the seat, "let's get you to your reception."
"Actually," Jimin remains stationary, his eyes trace the cracks in between the pavement, illuminated by a lamppost that shines eerily overhead, he never thought that a simple reunion would be so conflicting in his mind, "I don't think it matters anymore, how about we just keep walking around?"
"It can't be that bad, can it? I've noticed you've been timid about it since we met." She nibbles on the corner of his lip, hesitant to continue, "Does it have something to do with the ex-something?— Does she have a name?"
A heartbeat passes before the dancer lifts his head, gazing into the girl's brown orbs with a layer of gloss he's quick to blink away before clearing his throat,
"Hyuna."
"Well," Kyara sighs, attempting once more to lift her friend's gravity-drawn shoulders and slumped form, being the least she could do after all his help, "I'm happy to offer my services. I've got nowhere to go, and all I'm dressed up."
She opens her trench coat, glancing down at herself and Jimin follows, seeing as he was right in assuming earlier that she was in fact wearing a dress, dark maroon in colour and quite simple in style. A shiver runs up the violinist and she quickly buttons her front again, balling her hands into her pocket.
"It's okay," He casts his head downwards, "listen, it's late— "
"I think you're underestimating me," Kyara pushes on, "I really would make a great bodyguard—"
"She's with someone else." Jimin interupts her with a heavy sigh as his brain asks for more time to process his emotions, although he knows very well that with every minute passing, bits and bits of the pretense mask he wears chips off, revealing his anxiousness and vulnerability, only making it worse.
"Well look, you helped me, you saved my ass tonight and that kinda makes you..."
"A hero." As the boy remembers his promise, a faint smile creeps over his pursed lips which doesn't go unnoticed by Kyara.
"And heroes are not afraid to face their ex's," She pauses as a group of friends, huddled closely together, approach the front of the sidewalk, their laughs diminishing as they pass by. She continues watching, particularly at the couple who lingers behind the group as they walk on, and she gets an idea, "I could pretend and we'll be girlfriend and boyfriend," she peels her eyes away and back to Jimin, "That'll make her jealous."
