Here's My Number

60

It's been weeks since the whole incident regarding Gavin. Since then, Gavin has never touched, spoken, or texted you save for two times. The first time was a week after. He asked for forgiveness.

You told him to leave you alone.

You even blocked his number.

He left you alone for a while.

Yesterday was the second time.

He does this every time he makes you mad. He backs off, slowly crawls back to you as if nothing happened after a while, and each and every time, you get annoyed but let it slide.

Not this time.

Gavin still sits across from you in Spanish. He asked for help on the paper yesterday and left you alone when you ignored him. This morning he DMed you on Instagram to ask how you slept.

You left him on seen.

Jimin's coming over today. It's The first Saturday of December. You have no idea what to get him for Christmas. He says he's never really celebrated the holiday due to obvious reasons, so you have to make this one the best for him.

But you have no idea what to get as a gift.

Even worse, he says he already has an idea for you.

Why am I such a horrible human being? You think. I don't know what to get.

You sit at the bar counter sipping hot chocolate, staring out the window. The trees are bare and shivering in the wind. The grass is a dull, pale green, covered in sparkly frost that reflects the sunlight. What a Pretty morning.

You wish you were asleep. It's eight am. Jimin's the one that woke you up. He texted and called you repeatedly saying that he needed to get out of the house. Just couldn't stand being there and wanted to see you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and snaps you out of your thoughts.

Chim🥰😌💖

I'm hereeeeee

You smile and take another sip out of your mug.

If you say "mom I'm home" today I'm going to start locking the door every morning

The sound of the door opening echoes through the living room and Jimin's pretty voice reaches your ears.

"Mooom, I'm hoooome," he says in sing-song voice. You sigh and sip your hot chocolate. Mom, who is washing the dishes in front of you, turns off the water faucet and slings her towel over her shoulder.

"Is that my favorite child?" She calls, sending you a wink. You give her a look. Jimin slides into the room on his socks, coat hanging off his shoulders, smoothing his hair back attractively for his dramatic entrance.

"It is I," Jimin says, flashing his charismatic smile at your mom. "The favorite."

You roll your eyes and turn back to your phone. "Mom's not allowed to have the same favorite as me," you say bitterly, and you take another sip of cocoa. "But that might not be a problem soon, because you will no longer be my favorite."

Jimin hangs his coat on the back of the chair next to you and leans over to kiss your cheek. "Just woke up I'm guessing?" He says. He's not wrong. You bat his face away with your hand. "No. No kisses." Jimin pouts and puts his chin on your shoulder, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.