"Why do you did that?"
He look me in the eyes, smiling, making my heart beat even faster. "Because I want to." He say in a low tone, winking before pointing the camera at me. "Now smile."
- 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐉𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫...
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☾𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛☽
Another night lost because of him.
I can't believe he kissed me!
Why? Why him?
That was my first kiss...
I want it back.
I sighed, looking at the city, the lights being open on the dark night, moon being on the black sky, full of stars.
My green tea has been cold cold for a while, and my toes and hand are frozen. I push my hair back, and I take my phone from the little table from beside my chair, yawning.
I scroll through my Instagram, appreciating some posts. But I stoped after some minutes, seeing so many happy people make me more sad than I already am.
Today I had my first kiss...with a man.
I just want to hit him, and tell him how much I hate him.
"Psst..Jimin"
"What?"
"Come back, mom opened the lights in the kitchen."
"Oh. Okay."
I put my phone in my pocket, taking my tea cup and get back into our apartment, going to my room.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Whit you? No chance child." I put the cup on my desk and he sit on my bed, following my moves.
"I was just asking."
"And what do you want to talk to you about? You don't know what I feel."
"You are so childish. Just tell me what happened."
"He kissed me." I whisper, siting on my desk chair.
"What?"
"He kissed me."
"He what?"
"He kissed me, for Gods sake! You can't hear?"
"Oh..."He say covering his mouth with his hand. "Oooh..."
"Say something! I feel weird."
"He kissed you?" I roll my eyes and he look at his hand. "So you are gay?"
"No!"
"Okay...but why did he kissed you?"
"I didn't know Jungkook, can you stop asking me stupid questions? I just told you I feel weird talking about this."
"Did you liked it?" He raise an eyebrow smirking.
"Absolutely not. Stop!"
I get up and run to him, taking a pillow from bed and hit him.
"How can you ask that? I told you I am not gay."
"Okay, okay. I was just asking."
I sit next to him, keeping the pillow on my lap.
"He is so..uh! I just want to hit him."
"Do it. What stops you?"
"Our mom and probably him. He is older and taller then me."
"Will you told this to mom? I think she would be very mad."
"She is already thinking I ashame her. I will not talk about that, instead I will just say that I don't want the painting lessons anymore. What she will do? Force me to go?"
