Autumn Leaves / Park Jimin fanfiction

6. Call Me Sometime

Orphic
Mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding.

-

The familiar scent of paint fills my nose as I sit in my seat at the art studio. I find myself daydreaming as the other students fill the empty chairs that stood in long rows down the room. I was known to many as a daydreamer, constantly being told that I had an overactive imagination and that it would eventually lead to insanity. They weren't wrong.

I notice Jimin as soon as he walks into the studio, his hair covered by a black beanie that emphasised his sharp features. I give him a smile as we lock eyes, hoping I could redeem myself from the embarrassment of yesterday. Still maintaining eye contact, he redirects himself to the empty seat beside me before slumping heavily in the metal chair. "Hey," he grins, flashing his teeth. It was a simple welcoming, but it sent my heart in to a wild frenzy. "Hi," I respond, falling further down into my chair so I could no longer see over the top of the canvas situated in front of me.

"Are you going on the art trip?" He questions as he bends down to his bag, pulling out a large sketch pad and pencil. "Mr Kang said we needed to buddy up and I don't have a partner yet, I was wondering if you wanted to be mine? It's fine if you already have one," he continues, his voice becoming quieter as if scared of being rejected. I feel my heart skip a beat and it takes all my energy not to jump up and do a little dance. "I'd love to be your partner," I beam, but I immediately panic as the words leave my mouth. Was that too much? Jimin's face lights up and his entire body seems to relax.

"That's great, maybe we could meet up tomorrow to discuss the project?" I feel my smile falter. Tomorrow was Yoongi's birthday, I couldn't miss it, not even for the world. We didn't have anything planned, per say, but that didn't make the day any less special. "Sorry, I'm going to be really busy tomorrow, but I'm free on Saturday?" Sending an apologetic look Jimin's way, I silently hope and pray that he doesn't call off being partners altogether.

"It's a date then," he smiles with a small nod of his head, before leaning down to take out another charcoal pencil from his bag. I freeze on the spot, blinking rapidly, almost believing I'd just entered another daydream. "A date?" I squeak out, struggling to think straight. He turns to look at me, laughing quietly under his breath, "It's just a figure of speech."

"Oh I see." I try to hide the smile that creeps up, onto my face. I give him a nod of acknowledgement before picking up the pencil which laid beside me on my desk. The rest of the lecture flies by, although I was finding it difficult to keep focused. I was particularly conscious of Jimin, who was sat so close to me I could feel the gravitational pull of his body to mine. Jimin wasn't the typical kind of guy I fantasied about. He's a brunette and I've always preferred blondes. It reminded me of the time I first met Taehyung. He'd been blonde, hiding his real hazelnut toned hair under the golden highlights.

The students around me begin to pack away their belongings, signalling the end of the lecture. I stand to my feet, flattening down the deep wrinkles that had formed in my skirt. A warm hand brushes down my arm, slightly tugging me down with it, so I was at face level with Jimin. I panic instantly, trying to squirm away from him, but his hand kept me lightly in place. The world around me stops spinning as he leans in, and my eyes subconsciously travel down to his lips. My stomach somersaults as his gentle eyes connect with mine, his endearing voice falling from his lips.

"Could I have my pencil back?"

I look down at the pencil in my hand, not realising I had picked up his and not mine. Embarrassment crawled into my lungs making it difficult to breathe; a feeling I knew all too well. I inaudibly hand back his pencil as time seemed to stand still. "I'll see you on Saturday then." Jimin gives me an enthusiastic wave, before leaving with his pencil in his hand, as I stood there paralysed watching him leave. He turned slowly to face me again, a mischievous grin on his face.

"There's a small slip of paper in your bag with my phone number on it, feel free to call me anytime," he winks, pushing his tongue into the inside of his cheek. My legs feel weak at the sight as he leaves without another word.