Butterfly

7. The Empty Pool

When I get home, the apartment is empty, a note from Sandra saying that she's at the courthouse picking up documents. I crumple it, dropping it in the trash, and I grab a pear and my backpack, heading out again. The path to the roof is automatic by now, and the tight feeling in my chest disperses when I inhale the fresh air, letting the door close behind me.

I turn toward the edge of the roof where I sat with Jimin, but I hesitate, instead walking over to the empty hole in the ground, jumping down and walking to the deepest part. I stand there for a minute, then sit down, taking a bite of the pear, pulling my backpack into my lap and getting out one of my many homework assignments.

It's not half an hour when a soft thump makes me look up, and Jimin's standing there, his hair ruffled, having just jumped in. He raises an eyebrow and I stare at him, realizing how weird I look.

"Well, this is awkward." He speaks after a minute, a slight smirk on his lips as he tilts his head at me. "Tell me, do you always do your homework in empty rooftop pools?"

My eyes drop to his uniform shirt, completely unbuttoned, his bare chest and six pack on full display. I pull my eyes away, swallowing. "Funny."

He grins, sitting down, leaning on the opposite side of the pool lazily, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Mind if I smoke?"

"Yes."

He shrugs, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket anyway, lighting it and raising it to his lips, inhaling deeply. He closes his eyes, his muscles relaxing as he leans his head back, the smoke trailing from his lips.

I tilt my head, noting how much more relaxed he seems, and he opens his eyes, seeing me watching him. Jimin smirks slightly, brushing his hair back from his face with his hand, leaving it messy. "Problem?"

"I asked you not to smoke."

"Some addictions are just hard to beat, sweetheart." He takes a long drag, exhaling slowly in my direction. "Even when you know they won't end well."

I nod slightly, acknowledging that he's right, and we're both quiet for a minute.

"What's an ex-swimmer like you doing at the bottom of a pool?"

I look away. "Not funny."

"I know." He exhales slowly. "Why did you quit swimming?"

My stomach tightens and I set down my homework, not looking at him. "Everyone has a secret, you said."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't talk about it." He takes a drag of his cigarette. "Some things are better let out. Bottle it up, you go insane."

I tilt my head at him, not entirely sure what's going on. He's so much more real, right now, than he's been in the time I've known him.

"Yeah, well some things shouldn't be talked about," I reply slightly bitterly, the scent of his cigarette wrapping around me, the smoky tendrils sweet and repulsive all at once.

Jimin tilts his head slightly, giving that to me. "Well, what will you talk about?"

"Not much." I raise an eyebrow, challenging, and he smirks, letting out a breath of smoke.

"I assume the sister thing is off limits."

"Sister thing," I repeat, not sure what he's saying, and he tilts his head, pulling his cigarette away from his lips, between his pointer and middle fingers, tapping it on his knee. Orangey ash falls to the bottom of the pool, glowing among the dirt, and he crushes the light with his foot.

"Why you live with your sister."

"Why do you live alone?"

The corners of his lips turn up and he brings the cigarette to his lips again, holding it between them. "Touché."