Piano Boy

8

• Jimin •

"What do you think about this?"

Yoongi glances up from his phone, his dark eyes skimming over my outfit, and I give him a smile, turning from side to side, showing off the leather jacket and ripped black jeans.

He nods after a moment, and I wait for him to say something but he doesn't, his eyes wandering away from me, over the other shoppers in the store. I slip off the leather jacket, straightening the striped turtleneck underneath, slinging the jacket over my arm as I mess with my hair. "I'll change back into my stuff, then how about we call it quits and grab food?"

Yoongi glances at me again. "You don't have to hurry."

"I know, I'm hungry." I grin at him, messing with my bangs, annoyed at the way they're flopping into my eyes. "You still up for frozen yogurt?"

He nods, and I slip into the changing room again, pulling the turtleneck over my head as I reach for my t-shirt.

Yoongi's interesting. I thought, at first, that he was just shy, or maybe uncomfortable around new people, but I'm starting to realize that he might just be a quiet person, much more contemplative than conversational. It's intriguing, the contrast in his personality with mine, and while we've been browsing clothing, I'm beginning to see how his every move is purposeful, planned, careful and precise. He chooses his words carefully; he thinks through his actions before carrying them out; and I like watching him.

I sling my jacket over my shoulder, picking up the few shirts and jeans that Yoongi gave a small smile at, the way his cheeks slowly turned pink serving as encouragement to purchase them. When I emerge from the dressing room Yoongi is across the store, examining something, and I walk to the register, half watching him as the cashier rings up my clothing.

"That'll be fifty-one seventy-five."

I hand over my card absentmindedly, accepting the bag, then slowly making my way over to where the dark-haired boy is running his fingers over the material of a silky black T-shirt.

"Hey, you ready?"

He startles slightly, turning as if surprised I'm here, and I can't help my smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Yoongi nods, and he falls into step beside me as we exit the store, walking back toward the food court.

"What do you think Hoseok and Taehyung are up to right now?" I glance at Yoongi, and he cracks a slight smile, shaking his head.

"Forgetting about us."

"What do you bet they'll leave us here," I grin and Yoongi shrugs slightly, glancing away, his eyes skimming over the thickening crowd of people, and his smile grows smaller, shrinking in on itself as his shoulders tighten, eyes warily glancing over the people around us. I watch him carefully, noting the way his entire body stiffens as people brush past us, and I recall the night at the bar, when he was pale after having to go through the small crowds to reach a seat.

"Hey," I reach out, my fingers grasping his elbow carefully, and he flinches at my touch. Squeezing his arm gently, I tug him toward the food court, through the people, and he's silent, following me, and when we reach the frozen yogurt shop his shoulders grow slightly less tense, relaxing slightly as there are less people.

I release his arm, and he glances at my hand as I pull it away, then those grey eyes are on mine, unsure, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the spot on his arm that my fingers had closed around.

I clear my throat, looking away, around the small shop. "What kind do you think you're going to get?"

Yoongi seems to snap out of whatever mindset the crowd put him in, and his eyes meet mine again, clearing as his shoulders visibly relax. "I'm not sure."