jimin❜ ⊹ ✧ 𓏲

The gym is full of noise: bouncing balls, laughter, friends shouting at each other. You're leaning against the back wall, watching the scrimmage end.

You're laughing at something one of the players—a boy in your class—just said to you. It's not a big deal, a silly joke about how badly you throw a ball, but your smile doesn't go unnoticed.

On the court, Jimin is looking at you.

When the game ends, you barely give him time to approach. He walks straight toward you, his shirt stuck to his body with sweat and his brow slightly furrowed.

"Did you have fun?" he asks, trying to sound casual, but his voice trembles just a little.

—What? —blinks, surprised.

—With him —he adds, surreptitiously pointing at the boy who is still laughing with his friends.

You laugh, confused, but Jimin doesn't. He crosses his arms over his chest, uncomfortable, biting his lower lip in that gesture you only see when something's really bothering him.

—Jimin... —you approach, gently touching his arm—. Are you jealous?

He looks down, as if he finds it hard to admit, but he doesn't deny anything.

—It's not that, —mumbles—. It's just... I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm the one who needs this the most. You.

His words, so sincere, take your breath away for a second.

"You don't have to be like that," you whisper. "You're the only one I want."

Jimin looks up, his eyes bright and vulnerable. He moves closer, his fingers brushing your waist, and he rests his forehead on your shoulder.

—I know... I'm just afraid of losing you —he confesses, his voice barely a murmur against your skin.

...