"Kim Namjoon, I hate you more than life itself."

His friend was the one conjuring up enough dirty tissues to fill twelve large trash cans, and yet Yoongi somehow possessed enough bitterness so that Namjoon didn't have to open his mouth even once to complain. It wasn't his fault. But Yoongi blamed him anyway. Yoongi blamed his best friend for getting sick. Because he just needed some way to vent his anxiety, and in the form of anger seemed to be the best and easiest way for him. In all honesty, he did feel sorry for him. The phone call the two shared mere moments ago consisted solely of a quiet 'get better, you loser' followed by a plethora of hideous coughs that sounded to have been forced out of the depths of Namjoon's stomach.

As Yoongi stood at the entrance to the school building, a part of him wished he could be in his friend's place. Not a shred of his being wanted to be here. Not alone. Not without Namjoon. He legitimately considered turning back and heading home. What difference would it make? Missing one day, maybe two, depending on how long it took for Namjoon to recover. It wouldn't be such a big deal. And if Namjoon asked, he could simply tell him he was feeling under the weather too.

No...no, he could never bring himself to lie to his only friend. Not after everything he had done for him.

Recalling their conversation from the previous day, Yoongi mustered up enough courage to take that daring step into the building. He was immediately greeted by the regrettably familiar rush of hyperactive teenagers chasing one another down the halls, the deafening sounds of laughter and clusters of voices which were all a bit too cheerful for him to handle. He tried his best to resist the urge of covering his ears. But truly, they were rejecting everything at this point. "It's too early for this," he muttered to himself, transforming into a stick so that he could safely slip past people without making any physical contact. All he needed to do was figure out what classroom he was in, and he would go there straightaway, find a seat at the very back, and sleep until the first class began.

Unfortunately, however, Yoongi couldn't really be assured that would work out well. People always did act a bit bolder on the first day of school, and if one happened to notice the mint-haired loner with his guard down, they might actually approach him and do something terrible. Like say hello. And this time, Namjoon wouldn't be here to politely ask them to go away.

It seemed like an hour had passed before Yoongi managed to even reach the name listings. His eyes, still heavy and tired from only having received around three hours of sleep the previous night, lazily scanned the students' names in search of his and Namjoon's, and he fully expected them to be on the same list. But they weren't. No, as if things couldn't go any worse for him that morning, Yoongi discovered that his best friend had been placed in a class separate from his own. He felt a prick in his chest. "Well, it's not like I wanted to survive the school year anyway." Yoongi heaved a great sigh and lowered his head, basking in a moment of self-pity. Maybe if he waited long enough, the listings would change, and whatever demon had done this would realize his mistake and move Namjoon back to where he belonged.

"Jungkook, it's not funny anymore! Give it back!!"

Yoongi clenched his fists and pressed his eyelids tightly together as additional loud voices attempted to crawl into his ears. They would pass by him soon. Whatever idiots were running through the halls would pass by him soon enough, so he would wait until they were gone before raising his head again. However his little plan turned out to be a huge failure when one of the "idiots" brushed by him a touch too quickly, causing Yoongi's head to smash against the listings board with a bit more force than he would have liked. He fell immediately to his knees and placed his hands atop the newly acquired bruise. Whoever was responsible would pay. Yoongi swore he would kill them. He would kill them with death.

"Holy crap, I am so freakin' sorry. Are you okay?"

He wasn't expecting such a soft voice. Nonetheless, such a thing was not enough to soothe Yoongi's bubbling rage, and he lifted his eyes suddenly, an intense scowl crowning his pale face.

"Is your head bleeding? I really didn't mean to bump into you, I'm so sorry."

Wide, concerned eyes of a dark brown stared back at Yoongi, pressing the same question the boy's full lips had just asked. Amber orange hair hung neatly over his forehead, and his cheeks were quite round, soft-looking, too.

"Hello?"

He was too distracted by this strange state of constant eye contact to notice the boy's hand was outstretched. Yoongi squinted at him, hoping to make himself appear threatening and scare him away, but the boy didn't budge.

"I must've hit you harder than I thought." He sighed and scratched his cheek, resolving to taking Yoongi's wrist to lift him up off the floor.

"Did Namjoon send you?"

"Who?"

Yoongi lowered his gaze to stare at his feet. "Nothing."

"I'm Park Jimin-"

"I didn't ask for your name."

He felt intimidated. Not only was this boy being incredibly friendly, but he was attractive, too, unfairly attractive from the crown of his orange head down to the soles of his small feet. And right now, his hand was still latched on tenderly to Yoongi's wrist. And Yoongi couldn't bring himself to move.

"I'll take you to the nurse's office."

Yoongi touched his head where he had collided with the board. "Don't need to go," he mumbled. "I'm fine."

But Jimin felt guilty. Immensely guilty, and the longer Yoongi kept his hand pressed against his bruised head, the stronger that guilt became. "I'll make it up to you," Jimin blurted without thinking.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

"Ooh! How about lunch? I'll make you lunch tomorrow. Sound good? Great! Listen, I gotta go catch Jungkook before he decides to take this prank too far, but I'll see you later, okay? What's your name?"

"Min...Yoongi," Yoongi said softly. He didn't really know why he answered. Perhaps he had been swept up in Jimin's pace without realizing it.

"Yoongi, huh?" He scanned the listings board briefly. "Well, would you look at that. We're in the same class, Yoongi." Then Jimin disappeared, racing down the hall after the boy who was probably long gone by now, but not before leaving with Yoongi a sweet smile. The sweetest he had ever seen. Still fazed by what had just happened, Yoongi placed a hand over his chest.

Did my heart just skip a beat?

-----

Thankfully, even with that slight interruption Yoongi was able to get the seat that he wanted, but what he wasn't counting on was the seat directly in front of him being empty when Park Jimin happened to enter the room. The door slid open suddenly, and Yoongi's eyes darted up from his phone and over to the two boys who just walked in--the one, of course, being Jimin, and the other being a slightly taller boy with chestnut brown hair and eyes shielded by a pair of black-rimmed gucci sunglasses. His arm was around Jimin's shoulder, a grin stretched across both of their faces. Yoongi turned away to look at his phone again.

Just ignore them. If you do that, maybe they'll leave you alone.

"Ah, Tae! There! There's the person I ran into earlier this morning!"

Curses. My cover is blown.

Even still, Yoongi refused to lift his head again, and so he continued to text Namjoon as though he didn't hear Jimin calling his name.

Yoongi: Namjoon save me

Joonie: sorry i cant hear u over the sound of me being sick

Yoongi: joonie this is a text messaging convo u dont need to hear anythin stop bein a turd

Joonie: ur words wound me yoongs

"Yoongi!"

Groaning audibly, Yoongi finally set down his phone and answered Jimin's incessant calling by making eye contact. He was startled to discover Jimin's face inches from his own, and he threw himself backward, causing the boy beside Jimin to erupt with laughter. Yoongi regained his composure in the blink of an eye so that he could glare at him.

"How's your head?" Jimin asked. Yoongi shifted the glare over to him.

"Fine," he grumbled, glancing towards the window. "And you can just drop it already, ya know. I'm not gonna hold a grudge."

"I still feel really bad, though-"

"Hey, Jiminie."

Jimin's friend started to repeatedly poke his shoulder, taking off his sunglasses as he gestured at two empty seats towards the front of the classroom. He quirked an eyebrow, as if to say, how 'bout we sit there, huh? Yoongi silently prayed Jimin would agree, and the two boys would finally let him be. But alas, just as Jimin had craned his neck to see what his friend was pointing at, some other student claimed one of the seats, drawing a loud, irritated groan from the taller boy's mouth.

"It's alright, Tae." Jimin patted his shoulder encouragingly. "I know you like sitting near the front, so I'll sit back here with Yoongi."

"Absolutely not," the boy called Tae refuted, crossing his arms in a stubborn manner. "I won't be separated from my beloved Chim Chim." He then seized his friend by the shoulders and spun him so that the two were face and to face. "Jiminie, you will sit on my lap."

"Taehyung."

"What? If we tell the teach we're soulmates, I'm sure they'll be cool with it."

Yoongi bit his tongue to refrain from barking at them. Why do they have to be having this conversation right next to my desk? He thought bitterly. If Namjoon were here he would do something about this. Curse you, Namjoon. Curse you to death.

"Go, Tae." Jimin gave Taehyung a gentle push. "We're still in the same class, so it's fine."

"Fine..." Tae pouted, offering a number of pitiful glances to the orange haired boy before backing away tentatively. Jimin, clearly amused by Taehyung's dramatics, simply smiled at his friend, and he waved to him as he sat down in his own chair. Meanwhile Yoongi had just begun to type up another SOS.

Yoongi: namjoon im not kidding help

Joonie: mum just brought me noodle soup cant talk bye

Yoongi: what are u four

Yoongi: i literally hate you

"It's okay if I sit here, right?"

Yoongi pursed his lips at the question. "I really don't care," he said, "and you kinda don't have a choice now. Class is about to start."

Jimin gave a shy smile. "Ah, right."

There was a brief stretch of silence. Jimin's back was turned to Yoongi. But then he spun around yet again, thus convincing the other that his body was made up of a number of uncontrollable spring mechanisms.

"Just curious, which do you like better: gimbap or bulgogi?"

The mint-haired boy made a face at him, hesitating to reply with a soft, "Gimbap, I guess."

"Gimbap?" Jimin repeated. "Okay, gimbap. I'll make a note of that."

What's he asking that for? He wasn't serious about making me lunch, was he? What kind of a person would do that?

"Oh, and by the way, I really like your hair, Yoongi. It's super cool."

At that moment the bell for the start of first period sounded, and Yoongi was left to suffer that strange sensation of his heart faltering. He didn't like it. It was unfamiliar and made him uncomfortable. This kind, attractive boy made him uncomfortable.

Namjoon you better get well soon. I need you here to protect me.

—

this book is old and cheesy i'm sorry lmao