I hate everything about you (why do I love you?) ; ym

1. learning to hate you

The only reason why Jimin and Yoongi ever met was because Jimin was late.

Jimin was never late. Usually, he was one of the first students to enter the classroom, and by the time the teacher would arrive, he had already taken out all of his stuff and repeated what they had done the last lesson.
Jimin was a flagship student, he always did his homework, aced his tests, knew about everything he needed to know. He was great at sports, students and teachers liked him. Wherever help was needed, Jimin wasn't far. He was an excellent student with aspirations for a successful future, and there wasn't anything to criticize about him.

But that day, he was late, and that fact would have a bigger influence on his life than any of his achievements in his entire school career.

He ran down the hallway – it was forbidden to run inside the school buildings – towards his locker where he still had his math book he would need right now. He couldn't risk being late and without his materials.
With shaking hands, he managed to open his locker and grabbed his book, then he continued his murderous sprint.

He wouldn't have been late if it hadn't been for his cat that had peed on his bed this morning while Jimin himself had been in the bathroom.
When Jimin had returned to his room, he had to clean it all up just to realize that his cat had also peed on the floor in the living room. There was definitely something wrong with that poor thing, Jimin would have to go to the veterinarian with him; but now, he had to hurry to get to class, because he was already ten minutes late, and –

His fast pace up the stairs was stopped by something hitting his chest, followed by a wet feeling on his chest.
Jimin gasped, his eyes widening. He looked down at his shirt, his originally white uniform, now brown and see-through.
No.
"Oh my God," someone said, and Jimin looked up, "I'm so sorry, fuck – "
There was a boy in front of him, a black haired boy, holding a cup of what was presumably coffee. Or had been, as Jimin's shirt was now soaked in the dark liquid.
"I'm really sorry," the boy apologized again. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a tissue, a crumpled one, it could've already been used, Jimin wouldn't know, and started to wipe Jimin's chest with it.
"It'll be alright, I swear, just don't be mad – "
"Stop that!" Jimin swatted his hand away, "Stop rubbing my chest, God, you're only making it worse..."
Jimin looked down at the huge brown stain. Crap, okay, what could he do now? He needed to go to class, but there was no way he could go there looking like this – did he have any other chance, though?

"I'm sorry," the boy said once more. Jimin glanced at him. He knew him – his name was Min Yoongi, he was two years older than him, but only one grade further. He had to repeat eleventh grade.
"Great," Jimin spat as he continued walking upstairs, "Doesn't help me much now."
Yoongi stood there and stared after him.
"I could lend you my shirt instead," he offered, and while Jimin would've probably appreciated that in any other situation, it only added fuel to the fire now.
"Just drop it, will you?" Jimin said without so much as looking at him. Yoongi stayed quiet until Jimin disappeared around the next corner.

When Jimin entered the classroom, he was already 15 minutes late. Immediately, he could feel the judging gazes of his classmates drilling his body. With flushed cheeks, he turned to the teacher who eyed him judgmentally, and bowed his head.
"I'm very sorry for being late," he said, "I promise it won't happen again."
"What happened to your shirt?" the teacher asked.
"I ran into someone," Jimin replied truthfully, "They accidentally spilled their coffee on my shirt."
Someone snickered. Jimin pretended it didn't bother him.
The teacher raised an eyebrow.
"I hope you don't take school as a joke, Jimin," she said, "It's important to have a respectable air, you know that."
"I know, Ma'am," Jimin replied and bowed his head again, "I'm sorry."
"Sit down."
He did, and the lesson continued, but Jimin had a hard time focusing. He felt like everyone was still staring at him – Park Jimin, the excellent student, late and with a dirty shirt? That was as rare as hen's teeth.