Jimin tries to run from the fact that his psychotic ex-boyfriend is back in town and harassing him.
But it doesn't help that he's constantly running into Officer Jeon with tears in his eyes.
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Jimin's phone rings incomplete for the fifth time in one minute as he stares out the window of his favourite cafe, his small fingers wrapped tightly around his cold cup of hot choclate. It's the same number all five times yet seeing as he doesn't recognize it, he chooses to ignore it. He even goes as far as to silence his device completely, needing a second to breathe. He pushes his mug into the center of the oak table and watches the animated streets of his quaint town as people walk in earnest.
A small sigh parts his lips and he averts his attention to the pile of ungraded tests sitting before him, mocking him to an endless degree. Lately, he hasn't been feeling himself and he's not entirely sure what's to blame for his recent peculiar sentiments. Perhaps it's these strange phone calls that he's been getting. Or the fact that he can't sit peacefully in his home without feeling like he's being monitored from outside; or, sometimes even from indoors.
His mental health has been deteriorating gradually and without a stable mindset, he's unable to teach his students as well as he knows he can. It doesn't help that some of them have noticed and pointed it out. Of course his excuses always consist of 'I didn't have my regular cup of coffee this morning,' or 'I was up late grading papers.' Evidently both of those are credible justifications; however, neither are the main causes of his adverse headspace. It irks him because he knows that he should trust them. But he's not even sure he can trust himself.
"Are you still drinking this?"
"Hm?" Jimin sounds, peering to his left.
"Your hot chocoloate, well... it's cold," one of the employees points out. "Do you want a new one?"
Jimin smiles. "No, it's okay," he says as he stands up, reaching into his wallet for a five dollar bill. He places it gently on the table, retrieving his stack of ungraded papers. "Keep the change."
The woman expresses her gratitude with shiny smile and the teacher does just the same before he exits the cafe. The light breeze whispers in his ears and tousles his blond locks. A small smile falls onto his lips and he's glad that the sun shines partially through the soft clouds hanging in the sky. He stuffs his phone into his pocket and without paying much attention to his lazy grip on the tests in his hand, the wind steals some of them away with it's unannounced heavy gust.
