ScriblesFromHeart
Nisa's eyes didn't wander across the whole crowd. They anchored, with an intentionality she kept strictly hidden behind her eyes, on one person.
Jimin.
He was laughing at something Hoseok had said, his eyes crinkling into small, brilliant crescents. He wore a loose-fitting, soft pastel sweater that looked almost as comfortable as Nisa's cardigan, matching his reputation perfectly. Jimin was kind. He was the sort of person who picked up dropped pens for strangers, who held doors open with a genuine smile, and who seemed to carry an innate, radiating warmth that drew people toward him like moths to a porch light. He was soft to the entire world.
Except, it seemed, when it came to her.