seduction in literature | p.jm + m.yg

08 | inbox

At home, Jimin sits on his chair, his hands shaking as he drafts an email. The email.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Jimin gets up from his chair and stretches. He doesn't quite know what to do with the laptop, the words on its screen glaring at him even when he's pacing around in a nervous trance. It's just an email, it's literally just an email...

Finally, the boy hardens his resolve. He decides to swallow any form of possible embarrassment, to disregard the consequences (if there were even any in the first place),  and of course, to work up the immense courage needed to direct his cursor to the intimidating 'Send' button. He had spent a good thirty minutes deciding on either 'Dear' or 'Hi' to address his beloved teacher, not that there was much of a difference anyway, but the boy liked to overthink. In the end, he settled with a good old trustworthy 'Dear', which he made sure was not mistyped as Dead or any other word of similar resemblance.

"Dear Mr Min,

Please refer to the attached timetable for my weekly schedule! Thank you.

Regards,
Jimin"

Simple and formal. Such is Jimin over email when he spends more time thinking of how his words are perceived on the receiving end than drafting the actual thing.

He looks away, closes his eyes, and goes in for the kill. Done. There is no going back now.

With a squeal, Jimin hurls himself onto his bed. He starts to wonder why he has to overreact every single time, and then it isn't long before one thought leads to another, 'another' being the recent onslaught of his unknown, yet distinct, feelings. You're in trouble, Jimin. What would it be other than trouble? Curiosity? Admiration? Lust? Love?

"Feelings are troublesome," Jimin sighs out loud before smothering a pillow on his face, until he hears the chime of a notification from his table.

He stills, but squeals into the pillow once again. Scrambling out of bed, his eyes latch onto the sender's name. Yoon Gi Min.

With shaky hands, he opens the email. He's almost too scared to even read past the greeting, but he eventually does it anyway.

"Dear Jimin,

Noted. I realised that I am free on Friday afternoon, so let's stick to that time slot you and Taehyung previously settled on in class. Our lessons will still take place in my lecture hall. This starts tomorrow.

About what happened earlier, it was never my intention to make you upset. I always want the best for my students. You're not an exception.

See you in class."

Jimin feels mentally and emotionally exhausted. Tomorrow. All of it starts tomorrow.

And so he drops everything and decides to climb into bed. He turns off the lights, pulls his snuggly covers up till his chin, and falls into a deep slumber. Because to everyone, well, sleep is never an exception.

* * *

It's Friday. It means that 1.5 hours of literature await Jimin, but all he wants to do is sleep.

The boy manages to power through the lesson that dreadfully started at 10am, and he makes his way to the front of the lecture theatre at 11.40am. He silently waits for the girl in front of him to clarify whatever she needs, before he sidles up to the teacher's desk.

"Jimin."

There goes his heart.

"Yes, uh, Mr Min. I was wondering what time will our lesson begin?"