"Let's talk sex."
He was a spark, a wildfire of flames that intended to set her heart ablaze, and she was merely another doll-faced student who was too easy to mess with.
EXAGUSTD, 2021
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It is Monday as Jimin and I are walking into class. He has been talking about staying up and developing a few films for his assignment and I've been doing everything to focus on the context of his words. The studio part of our class is still half-empty as a few students walk in after us but I am too focused on the seat behind mine to take note of the silent waves of chatter. It's barren and I breathe, pointing my feet to a different path from my usual. I don't want to sit there now - not after ruining my image for eternity.
I wasn't under the impression that I would sit my class through today, owing to how I have been lacking in my language and computer classes. I have a tonne of homework to thaw of off the mountain of studying that stands over my shoulders and it's only a matter of minutes before I collapsed.
"Rae?" Jimin puzzles when I detach away from him.
He gestures a hand to the array of seats and I flounder for an excuse to feed his confusion with. When I don't come up with any, my anxiety commences the shake in my head and I end up randomly telling him that our original place isn't one of my luckiest spots.
"You're stressed," he notes, smiling cheaply.
I shift nervously, "is it showing?"
My friend cocks his head to the side, smirk swapping wider, "Have sex."
"Stop." I hiss.
He drops his bag beside his stool, dragging the chair noisily before flopping onto his seat and adjusting his feet over the desk with his back slumped. I follow suit, apathetic to his comeback.
"Everyone does it, Mary," Jimin shrugs nonchalantly, "it's just sex."
My face shrivels in distress and I slap a hand over his arm to deal with the violent trembling in my hands. "Stop saying that, someone might -" I lower my voice, looking around, "someone might overhear us."
The guy deadpans, angling his arms up so his elbows are pointed and the back of his head is cradled in his hands. I grimace at him when his lips pull up to pout and he sends me a peck through the air. After one look of disbelief my way, he takes to unleash himself from the position and inclines closer.
"Do you want to try it, Mary?" he leans into my ear, my contempt dissolving in his words, "first hand, room 269 - oh wait - what did he call you?"
"Jimin!" I shove him off, palming my hand around his shoulder in slight aggression.
He laughs, pointing at my cheeks fattening with red as I start to recall the same words spoken to me in a slur in the darkroom. I can't remember half of what had happened in there - the picture fades into a reservoir of memories, but I know I had woken up in cold sweat to shew the voice away. He did call me a word that I can't swirl in my tongue. Taehyung with his voice sounding all sensuous and low after just hitting it off with his girlfriend over the phone - I'm going crazy and it is starting to reflect on my sleepless riot.
