𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐍

jungkook + hoseok - request

LOVE TRIANGLE

- in which jungkook, his whole being about as pretty as the stars, and hoseok, all round ray of sunshine, both fall in love with you; requested by ruthyyall

You tighten your hands around the straps of your backpack, keeping your head low as you clumsily navigate yourself around the crowded hallways. You vaguely remember the directions to the office that you were told a few weeks ago when being given a tour of your new school. Sighing, you decide to lift your head up ever so slightly and read the signs that extend from the walls, hoping at least one of them will read office before your first class starts.

Thankfully, the students have decided to take their matters elsewhere, leaving the hallways reasonably empty. You roll your shoulders to relieve some of the tension and glance around, wanting to get a good feel of the school you'll be spending the next three or so years of your life at.

To your left is a history classroom, your mind recalling the tour guide taking you and your parents past this exact room to head to the front office. Confirming that you're heading in the right direction, you glance over to your right side, frowning when your gaze lands on a drinking fountain. The outside of the drinking fountain has three, almost claw like, slashes down it's side, the ridges of those slashes painted a dark red to represent blood.

You smirk at the creativity and continue down the hall, certain that you know exactly where you're going now.

Finally, you end up at the front office, grunting as you push open the door, flashing the lady behind the desk a sweet smile. She waves you in, grinning happily as you approach her shyly.

"Hi, sweetheart. So lovely to see you again," she greets, her voice light and calming. You nod your head, shuffling in your spot as you ask about the principal, your voice soft.

"Don't worry, dear. He's just dealing with some stuff so he'll be done shortly. How about you take a seat?" She explains, motioning towards the chairs placed to the side, a boy arrogantly occupying one of the seats with a toothpick in between his teeth, his almost dark gaze on you.

Nervously, you nod, avoiding eye contact with the boy as you subconsciously take the seat beside him, your cheeks heating up at the realisation. You can feel that his eyes are still trained on you but you don't want to look to confirm it. Instead, you fidget with your hands, patiently waiting for the principal to come and get you.

"Hi," the boy beside you starts, smirking when you slowly turn your head to acknowledge his presence. Your eyes naturally flick up to meet his, the air filling your lungs being whisked away the minute you make eye contact.

His eyes are a hickory as rich as the earth's soil; stained with the colour of hot chocolate on a cold, winter night that wraps around you like a blanket; engulfs you in its warmth and makes you feel at home. Its size gives it a sense of innocence and purity. This is the part where you can see all the buried kindness eclipsed behind the saturated colour of fine, exquisite oud.
Those deep pools of dark-cinnamon swirls seize the depth and heaviness of one thousand untold stories, which imprison the sweetness of saccharine chocolate and the bitterness of strong coffee. They consist of raw emotion and if you observe closely, they reveal to you the exact thought that crosses the marvels of his ominous mind.

On the other side of all that, his brown-mahogany orbs scintillate with a mischievous glint that can be noticed next to the umber that rims his iris. They glow with humor and a playfulness that never seem to escape his eyes, his smile reflecting the look in his eyes, his perfectly plump lips stretching out into a cocky grin.