DIRTY LAUNDRY .
TAEHYUNG .A kaleidoscope of colour comes alive through the glass of the mechanism before me. Reds, violets and aspects of vibrance infuse immaculately, creating a cognate imitation of unity. Water seeps through every crevice of cloth, lavender inundating the threads, the materials combining in the intense slush of soap.
Of course, such observations of a washing machine can only be conjured up by a mind infested by sheer boredom.
It's quite sad, really, that a student with a "promising future" is now sat in an empty laundrette because he can't afford a washing machine. It's also rather tragic that I'm having to mooch off of my childhood friends because I dropped out of high school and can't even get a job. Thus why I'm working at the pizza takeaway.
I run a weary hand across my thigh, fatuously tracing my fingertips across the creases of my jeans. An obstinate chill collects in the room, to spite the sun radiating outside. I pull my hoodie further around my body, scraping the sleeves down so they hang low, passed my hands.
It's due to this state of frosty solitude, that my senses are enhanced and I'm able to turn exactly as the door opens and somebody enters.
He lets through a brandish of sun-kissed air and it seeps through the minuscule gap between the door and the door frame, immersing itself within the room. I'm unsure whether it's the warmth from outside or whether his being is just a glorious beacon of heat - either way, it creates a wave of comfort within me.
At first, he doesn't notice me, limply making his way toward the machine in the corner and emptying an entire bag of clothes into it. Though I'm staring at the back of his head, I feel a strange sense of familiarity emanating from him. It's as I catch a glimpse of his glistening skin, that I recognise the indisputable pulchritude of his being and recall the sound of his gentle voice.
I think it kind of funny how small this town is.
Without hesitating, I make my presence known by reciting his bizarre pizza order, "anchovies, pineapple and jalapeños."
I observe as he flinches, his shoulders shrinking further into his oversized denim jacket. Slowly, he cranes his neck, transfixing his light brown hues onto my figure. I watch as his pupils dilate and he nervously draws his fingers across his palm.
"P-pardon?" He questions quietly, exhaling a sharp and trembling breath.
A wry smile tugs at my lips as I peer up at him, "your pizza order last week."
"Yeah...I-I know, but you remembered it?"
"Course, I payed for it, after all." I jeer with a subtle, yet flirtatious, wink.
"Ah, yeah..I can pay you back, you know, I-"
I can't help but chuckle at his flustered form, which is the wrong thing to do as it makes him tense up even more, "don't worry about it, I bet you it made your day."
"Well... yeah, I suppose."
"Ah, I love seeing how small gestures can make such an impact."
He smiles at this, his previously shy demeanour evaporating momentarily, so I can see true beauty that comes in the form of a smile. As I truly look at that smile, I take note of how attractive he is, even behind a shroud of trepidation, this man undeniably gorgeous. The fact he's eccentrically shy, only makes the idea of him more appealing to me; shy boys are always the most fun to ruin.
"So, what's your name?" I question after a moment.
His voice is laced with a joyous shyness as he replies, "Jimin."
"Jimin?" I grin, taking note of the tincture of red that pathetically engulfs his features.
"Park Jimin."
"Nice to formerly meet you, Park Jimin, I'm Kim Taehyung."
His body seizes up at my words, as if they spark some contortion of bad memory within him.
"Something wrong?"
He twists his body 'round and shakes his head, "no, it's just.. your name sounds familiar."
I quite literally bite my tongue, choking down my feelings of despair at the prospect of him knowing who I am: it's too early for that, "that so?" And, in that moment, I curse the beep of the washing machine, as it symbolises the end of my wash and the end of our conversation. "I guess that's me." I tell him quietly, "I'm going to have to go, but," erratically, I scramble through my pockets, pulling my phone from one and handing it to him confidently.
He scrunches up his nose cutely and gives me an odd, sideways glance, "what's this?"
"A phone, silly. It's my half-assed, insecure way of asking for your number."
A euphoric giggle slips through his peach, plump lips as he complies with my request - his surprisingly small fingers typing away.
As he does this, I kneel down to reach my washing and attempt to take it out, only to find each and every straggle of material tainted a glorious shade of red; all the whites now shaded over with intense pinks.
"What the.."
Jimin leans over my shoulder, dropping my phone into my lap. He chuckles nervously, his breath tickling my neck as he softly says, "don't you know to separate reds from whites, Kim Taehyung?"
//
the 'love yourself tear' trailer just came out & i literally have tears in my eyes holy fuck ,,!!,!
YOU ARE READING
VMIN / INDULGE
Fanfiction"I'd just like to be yours and I guess I want you to be mine." "Sweetheart, that's not weird. It's cute." ・゚:* jimin is a sad ballerina, who falls for the lies of taehyung, a mysterious photographer who is nothing but trouble. ( complete )