Annie
Days on trial: 7
"Didn't fuckin' work," Jungkook slumped into the chair opposite me with a face like thunder, shoulders dropped in defeat.
The cafe was, once again, a myriad of loud characters and quiet observers. Behind Jungkook were an elderly pair of friends, reminiscing over their well-lived lives. Towards the counter were two dark haired women, with a similar button nose and an identical laugh, so I assumed they were sisters. Out of everyone in the cafe that day, Jungkook and I seemed to be the least well acquainted with one another, and yet the way he strolled in so casually, it felt like he'd known me for years.
He looked up at me jaw tense, brows furrowed in annoyance. His arm rested on the table, fingers instantly curling around the ceramic mug of coffee I had preemptively ordered for him.
"Sorry," he sighed, finally meeting my slightly stunned gaze. The dark sweatshirt he was sporting almost swallowed him up. I'd never seen another human look so delectably cosy. "Excuse my language."
"No, no you're fine," I dismissed his apology, not bothered in the slightest by his language. For a boy with a curious case of mono, his vocabulary sure was colourful. "So it hasn't fuckin' worked?" I teased slightly, imitating him, before taking a sip of my own coffee.
He narrowed his eyes imperceptibly, as if he wanted to challenge my mocking of him, but instead, he answered me. "Nope. Still mono."
Instinctively, my fingers went to reach for the pen that was rested on top of my trusty reporter's pad, but I found myself hesitating. Somewhere between his frustration and foul mouth, I found myself wanting to talk to him on a human level; on a friendly level. Not as a reporter.
"It's only been a week," I sighed, electing to doodle on my pad instead. Little swirls and stars erupted from my ballpoint biro, trailing down the edges of the paper. "What did the doctor say?"
He remained silent for a moment, I assumed recounting what had been discussed. His fingers tapped gently on the table, strumming a pattern I couldn't quite recognise. He opened his mouth to talk, yet cut himself off, closing his lips sharply.
"So?" I pushed curiously.
Jungkook sighed. There was a sheepish grin on his face, as if he'd been caught stealing cookies from a cookie jar.
"He told me not to expect results for another three weeks."
The boy was an idiot and he knew it.
"I just thought it would work sooner!" He defended as I laughed at him, my shoulders rocking vigorously. I made no attempt to stifle the volume of my giggling. The ladies sat behind us were already looking at me, but I could only focus on him and the childish look of defeat on his playful face. "The doctor said because I'm already in love, it would probably happen sooner for me," he whined. "So I kind of expected it to happen within a day or two."
When my laughter didn't ease up, he began to laugh too.
"Shut up, Annie," he smiled softly, drawing his coffee to his lips, giving me the chance to regain my breath.
His hair was ruffled today, as if he'd rushed out of bed and chucked his baggy sweatshirt over his head while he was running out of the door. The chaotic casual look suited him. I was almost positive that, like me, he was in all black.
"Is your girlfriend excited for you to see colour?" I found myself asking before I'd actually considered the question. He seemed not to notice the look of surprise on my face, gazing out the window, contemplating.
"I haven't told Tiff that I started the trial," He admitted. "I wanted to surprise her."
"You haven't told her?!" My mouth once again spoke without my head permitting it first.
