#I so clearly used this prompt as an excuse to just fuck around in photoshop and try some different effects lmao

[guardian-angle22]

Tarlos Wedding Celebration Event [Week 4] -> favourite quote(s) -> season 1

[taeguboi]

Taehyung x Reader Angst / Fluff

Request 1: ‘ Hi! Taehyung Imagine where he finds out that you're self conscious about your body because other people always made fun of you because of certain things like hair and stretch marks? He overhears you saying things like "Why do you have to look like this again today?" To yourself.. sorry if it's too angsty! Can you make it a little longer and the end fluffy? thanks~ ‘

Request 2: ‘ Hi 👋 I just found your tumblr and it's the best thing❤️❤️ Can I please request a scenario with taehyung based on doddie clarck song 6/10 ?’

I combined these requests because the 2nd one I found to be a good prompt to continue and complete the 1st... It’s like over 6k words -- longer than I expected, but I think that’s because I put quite a bit of myself into this one... It actually helped alleviate some stuff on my mind, and express my annoyances with the past, so this time in particular, I find myself thanking you guys rather than the other way round!

UNEASY

Summary: Chaning your point of view proves to be a lot tricker than you thought

Warning: Self hate, quite angsty

Today I’m trying something different.

This is bound to get him.

As I point a foot into the scrunched up material and slide the delicate fabric up my leg, an aura of confidence fills me. He has to notice me this time and realize I’m the most important thing about his day. Don’t many guys spend most of their teen years looking for this content online just wishing they could experience it for real?

I attach the stockings to the suspender belt and stand up to take in my appearance through the mirror. The reflection gives me a promising image as I sport my new blue underwear with a lacy black net layered on top. The bra is actually both the cutest and sexiest thing I have ever bought for myself, really supporting my boobs and giving the eye something to admire, and the belt really changes my look up from just the sad two piece attempt at seducing this guy!... Maybe I should buy more like this and wear them underneath my clothes daily… Confident people always have a secret to give them that edge, right?

Sure, my figure isn’t flawless, 100% toned with a sunkissed glow, but honestly, who in reality actually looks like that? Even models get photoshopped of their cellulite and stretch marks and skin tones… But the store was right; the garments really do know how to flatter and enhance what is there.

I look good.

Better than good.

“Go get ‘em.”

Okay. So it’s like this a lot lately, but I’m determined to make a change today. Sometimes he, and I say this with sarcasm, will be considerate enough to take the time to stare at a screen with me in his arms, but more often than that, he remains slumped on that goddamn computer chair while I lay here looking pretty. The amount of books I’ve managed to read in this room, seriously…

Young love was such a fine thing at the beginning. He, grand and handsome with his bronzed skin, short brown lustrous hair, such a charming personality and that smile… turned into a painfully lazy slob, hair lacklustre in need a of trip to the hairdresser - but chance would be a fine thing; he never steps foot outside the house!

Why do you think I’m sat here in this dive of a room, smudgy, groggy, with clothes strewn all over the floor?

The bedsheets are just about bearable.

I bring myself to my knees on the bed behind the desk at which he sits, the only light illuminating his face being that of the same old screen. I unbutton the top of my red tartan shirt with anticipation, followed by the next, just to give a good enough view, yet leaving plenty to the imagination, for now.

“Hey hun…” I mumble suggestively, checking last minute that everything is in place, pushing up my rather plentiful looking bosom… If I do say so myself…

“Hmm?” is the disinterested response.

“How about…” I begin, leaning over to tap him on the shoulder to catch his attention. “You finish talking and gaming with those online friends for a friend that is… more real… one that you can…. Hmm, I don’t know… feel?”

I don’t believe this. His eyes don’t even leave the screen through any of my words, nor his that follow “Maybe in a minute, sweet. This level is important.”

“More important than…” Time to undo some more buttons… “Little ol’ me?”

Silence.

For a solid five seconds.

“You know what?”

Huh, now he turns around to look at me, as I’m furiously fastening my shirt back up to rid him of the view he clearly doesn’t deserve or need to see.

“Fuck this” I snap, almost literally jumping off the bed as I grab my bag in a hurry. “Go live in your fucking fantasy world and go find one of the chick sprites on there to have an imaginary fuck with.”

“Babe? I --”

“You barely even have any energy to get out of your chair and stop me. So this is me. Walking out. Of your room. And your life. You clearly don’t need me for as long as you have that computer so I clearly don’t need a sad sack like you.”

“Where is this --”

“Go put your dick in your fucking xbox or something because you’re never getting a view like this again.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry I’ll --”

“No. Don’t call me.”

Upon storming out of his bedroom with haste, I bump into his brother

“Hey what the --”

“Sorry, I’m outta here” I explain, a little too politely for my liking but I can’t say any of this is or was his fault. But I can afford to be polite. I’m not running away to hide the crying this time. There isn’t even a hint of a sting to my eyes.

I run down the stairs like thunder and I have no idea if I’m being followed because of the noise of my own footsteps, but I’m gonna take an educated guess that he fucking isn’t and has probably stopped to talk to his brother instead, using the timing of his appearance as a lame excuse in his own mind not to fight for me.

I race down the corridor of the hallway and waste no time, simply picking up my shoes and not even bothering to put them on. It’s a good thing (for the family) that it’s a warm day and the door is already open; I feel so empowered right now that had that door been shut, I could have the strength to walk right through it!

Too much?

I close - slam - the gate behind me for the last fucking time.

And I run.

I’m doing it! I’m storming out! And walking away! -- figuratively! (You know, because I am in fact running)

And look! I don’t even care! This isn’t a mask or denial, either; I can’t find it in myself to care!

I! DON’T! CARE!

I don’t care.

Wait; I don’t care....

...When did I stop caring?

I fell out of love…

Well, why and how can I love something that doesn’t give back? For months, it has been like talking to a brick wall, or having that one teddy bear you loved as a child and told all your secrets to but grew out of and just chuck clean clothes on top of because there’s nowhere else to dump them.

The metaphorical teddy bear, clothes, and the room they were in have all been left behind now.

Maybe this has all been a game of my own… A challenge to change a guy, with different difficulty levels on unfreezing the target from the spinning chair of death, to earn XP points and level up on the sad meter.

Turns out I can level up by quitting the game for good.

I have no idea where I’m running to, and I’m probably not even gonna go home just yet, and the soles of my feet are gonna hate me for this, but I can’t stop!

Freedom!

I think uni life is going to suit me just fine. My own place in the town, an already great social life, my circle which can only expand, and I’ve been accepted onto a course in something I’m confident about.

Wanna take any guesses to what I’ve chosen to study?

A mixture of recommended works as well as texts from my own personal reading list, I unload a handful of a pile of books from the trolley - yes, as in a shopping trolley - that I’ve wheeled into here. Okay, I said a place of my own, but it’s a shared house. But I’m sure they won’t mind though, right?

I’ve developed quite a strong mind for literature so there’s quite a big load here… I might just need to buy myself a set of shelves at this rate; knee high piles across one wall, I really could use something more efficient to store them with…

“Hey, what’s with the trolley?” a deep voice questions.

Oh crap, act normal!

“Oh, um hi there! I’m one of the new house mates! I er… I was just unpacking some books and er…. It’ll be gone soon…�� I stutter as I lift myself from the floor where I was just peacefully sorting my books and look up at the person addressing me.

Oh, wow. Is this guy one of my house mates? He’s handsome… probably too handsome for the likes of myself, but a girl can dream, right?

I watch him lean gently onto the trolley and I notice many a thing about him. He has a beautiful melanin glow, and very distinct features, each one of them perfect; fringe sweeping over wide chocolate eyes, and in-between those eyes rests his nose which has a cute little mole on the end, and beneath that nose are the fullest pink lips I’ve ever seen on a man… He’s actually tall, dark and handsome… Just my type… Wait, I say a girl can dream, but am I perhaps just dreaming up this fine specimen of a human being?

“No worries!” he grins, and I swear it elicits such a calming effect on me, and I already feel at home when his eyes turn into cute crescents that compliment the smile. The feeling I get is so warm that it’s almost like there isn’t a trolley between us...

Okay girl, snap out of it and just reply to him!

“I uh…”

“You know, we could take this thing for a ride later, if you want…” he interrupts.

I chuckle at this odd comment… It’s just a trolley... “You make it sound like there’s a sophisticated vehicle in front of us…”

“It doesn’t matter what you’ve got in front of you; what matters is how you make use of it” he replies. “I have to unpack a few more things myself, so I better carry on… See you around later though, yeah?”

“Sure” I smile back, watching in admiration the back view of him as he walks away. Even his walk is cool…

I really need to stop letting myself get so carried away; he’s someone I’m going to have to be living with for the next year at the very minimum… He’s also someone who probably already is in a relationship… They usually all are every time.

I internally sigh as I continue unloading the books.

I thank myself for saving so much dollar over the summer.

Freshers week!

Time to probably forget everything about dieting and healthy living…. Actually, time to probably just forget everything, and drink! This is the new beginning I am determined to get right this time. I’ve been wise with money, begun self improvement, lost a few pounds on the way to make up for eating I'm gonna be doing after boozing (which is something I most definitely do; I’m quite the hungry drunk)... Okay, the weight probably needed to go anyway, but that’s another story… And I’m going to step out into that big wide world and fake the confidence until I no longer need to pretend!

So I’ve not been to every single event that’s come to my awareness, but I’m doing pretty good, if I do say so myself. I’ve socialized well, only having stayed in one night this week, I've partied hard and drunk even harder.

This is going to be such a good year, and I’m so hyped for tonight!

As lame as it seems, I don’t get a head start on getting ready, but on my work instead, finishing some research just an hour before leaving the house.

I’m not the best at makeup, but I make do and take advantage of the dim lighting that exists in most of the places I’ve been to so far… Also, just a flick of eyeliner and a dash of lipstick is going to do when everything gets ruined anyways.

The night-life here is already amazing, and this sense of detachment and freedom is exactly what I’ve been looking for. I’m finally ready to put aside all my insecurities and embrace the person I am!

“Hey, you ready?” I hear someone asking me. I managed to click with one of the girls living here almost instantly, so we chose each other to go on these nights out with. It’s easy to make friends when you go out partying and drinking, but it’s even easier with a wing man… er, woman… You get all the extra special benefits when you have a buddy too; the free drinks came to me way more on the second night than they did on the first, alone.

“Almost!” I call back, slipping my feet into my shoes, then giving myself one last look over in the mirror before setting off down the hallway to meet her.

I’m not quite sure why, but a bunch of us ended up out back of this place, playing spin the bottle instead… I think it was deader than expected back there… but my mind is a little unclear at the moment… but it’s nice. I feel so at ease and relaxed and…

“Hey there guys! Can we join?”

Oh no.

No.

No.

NO.

This has got to be a piss take, right? Why the fuck is he here?... Is this on purpose?

I’ve never sobered up faster.

This has to be on purpose. He never so much as steps foot outdoors unless his mum forces him to go shopping or something, but now here he is, at freshers? This has got to be some really bad joke…

“Sure!” one of the people sat around the bottle responds, making room for, ugh, my ex and his friend…

I’m not sure I can do this.

“Uh, I’m gonna go back inside, if that’s okay with you guys… I’m a little cold”

“Are you sure?” asks my house mate

“Stay! I can give you my jacket” offers the guy sat next to me, but I decline and bring myself to my feet.

“Oh good, I just realized it was you…” he retorts… he, because I don’t even wanna speak his name. “But don’t think I’m coming to chase after you, who’d wanna kiss you anyway?”

“Man, please! I’m the one that left you, so you can shut your fat butt up right now!”

That’s it, I’m fucking right off.

But he chases me anyway as I storm back inside, ready to find myself another drink… Perhaps three more drinks.

“Why are you following me?!” I bellow out, scanning the room for a source of drink.

Shots. All lined up on the table. Probably not for me, but, perfect.

“I guess I feel bad after not following through with your little act last time… Do you feel better now that I’ve followed you?... Come on babe, come back to me… It’s not like you’re gonna get anyone else…”

One shot. Picking it up. Downed.

“You want me to come back to you! Just admit it! You’re just some sad sack who knows he can’t do any better and is trying to turn it on me and lower my self-esteem!”

Second shot.

“Well not today, and not ever again! Now get out of here before I do something drastic!”

Third.

“Drastic, yeah?” he questions with a cocky smirk. “Something drastic like kissing me?”

“I think it’s best we leave it there, and you should leave mate” I hear a familiar voice say. I look to see the handsome housemate, whose name, I learned, is Taehyung. I didn’t realize he would be here tonight as well… Perfectly feasible then again; when we left the house earlier, we left it completely empty.

“Whatever. She’ll come crawling back to me” he replies. “She always does!” he shouts as another guy drags him away.

“Are you okay?” asks Taehyung with concern as I feel my knees giving way, and I can’t tell if I’m really nervous as well as angry, or if the shots are kicking in already.

“There always is something to ruin a new start… I’m fine thank you, I just… need to lay down for a moment” I tell him, feeling drowsy all of a sudden, wobbling slightly.

“Well this isn’t exactly the best place to be doing that, so… Jimin, I’ll be back soon, yeah? I’m taking her home”

“Taehyung! I’ll be fine!” I insist. I don’t want to leave so soon after that commotion, no. I can’t have him thinking I left just because he turned up.

He does not control my life.

I can’t sleep.

I hate the fact that he turned up. It’s triggered every thought I used to over-think, highlighted every regret I hold about the past, stirred up all the anguish to blend with all the positivity I’ve been conjuring up lately.

Of course, I gave in to Taehyung’s proposition that he walk me home… I couldn’t say no to him; he was being dead nice to me. But now that I’ve left the party and I sit here solitary, it allows me to think and focus on everything I could have otherwise put off.

Can I even face those people again now that that’s happened? I may have been getting to the point that I could have been off my face, but there were so many faces I recognised from over the past week in lectures and other fresher events… They’re all gonna think I’m weak.

I can pick this back up. I have to. Any time I haven’t spent out tonight means more money left over. Yeah, I’m gonna treat myself and have some retail therapy tomorrow.

You deserve it.

*

“Hey hun! How do I look?” I asked him, giving him a twirl in my new dress, well proud of the job I did of my hair.

“Sweetheart, you look cute! Especially in that dress; it really makes your tummy pop” he comments with a grin, poking the slightly fatty area of my body.

Yeah, I’ve been meaning to do something about that…

Laying out the pretty undergarments across the bed, I struggle to choose what to wear tonight; the final night of the first week. I lock my bedroom door and close the curtains, allowing my towel to slip off my body. There’s only one way to decide this, and that’s to try them all on.

I don’t know why I bought another blue two piece… too many bad memories of that day I got overlooked, ignored… I guess I shopped with an optimistic mind earlier, thinking that it wouldn’t matter because it is quite cute.. Plus, I ruined the other one with all that running I did -- let’s just say that is not the right kind of bra to be exercising in.... The bra here is simple without detail and accentuates my cleavage, but.... The matching underwear really does no favours in hiding my stretch marks along my thighs… Ugh.

Maybe I could go for the red one… The colour of passion with its bold tone… Nah, I’m not quite feeling it. It’s too raunchy for my mood… I want everything I wear to speak for itself and myself. Why wear something bold when you’re feeling just a tad… quite… unsexy…

I can’t go wrong with black, surely? Okay, nope, I was wrong. You can go wrong. I thought black was supposed to be a slimming colour! But instead it shows off those fucking marks on my breasts as well as my thighs! And my hips!

White. Come on, white. It’s not even any ‘special’ underwear, merely a training bra I bought for my exercise, but it’s better… the light material of the matching panties doesn’t draw attention to the things I don’t like about myself...

I don’t know why I get like this sometimes, but let’s lift myself up from that slight downer and focus on hair. Yeah, let’s make more of an effort tonight.

I half-heartedly smile at myself in the full length mirror as I continue to work on my look for tonight. Every day, or every time, I look in the mirror, I try to tell myself what is good. It’s just one of the many things I picked up after walking away from that imbecile.

“I suppose my eyes do have an extra sparkle to them today” I mutter, combing my hair out of my face, ready to style. But it just won’t go right! Damn you frizz! Come on, you can do this!

Right. Makeup. Good makeup can make any look better, even if I’ve messed up the good hair thing slightly… but goodness, it’s gotten muggy in here, I must open a window or something.

Okay, focus… is what I try to do, but it then turns into a bunch of arguments with myself as I get angrier at my bad co-ordination and certain aspects of my natural features.

“Fuck’s sake! Why don’t my eyes look even!”

“Stupid unsymmetrical face!”

“Ugh, stupid!”

It’ll have to do.

I’m not gonna lie; I do feel kinda plain tonight in comparison to all these pretty girls I can see around here. I guess throughout the week, I hadn’t really been paying attention to anyone other than myself…

… and that’s because I don’t need to! Come on! I know I keep repeating those words, but come on!

“Ha-ha-HA! How wasted am I?!” questions my housemate as she wobbles back over to me.

“Oh dear” I chuckle. Bless her; I must admit, she’s quite the drunk.

“So this is my friend… Uh, you guys should talk for a while… Gotta pee”

Oh. Okay, I guess the social part of tonight might have come to me. That’s alright, I guess.

“Hey there…” he says to me. He’s actually not that bad looking, and he has a kind face… “I’m Namjoon, and you?

Namjoon is a really cool guy. He seems very intelligent, and despite the drinking, he can maintain a steady and intelligent conversation with me… Turns out he’s minoring in Lit so we’ve managed to talk continually for an hour on just a couple of books alone! I feel much better now, almost unsure what my worries were even about earlier.

He smiles back at me with such sincerity and he’s interested in every word I have to say. I even catch him eyeing up different parts of my body when he thinks I’m not looking, which might be seen as perverted to some, but I just think it’s charming!

Honestly, if there was a night on which that bastard of an ex had to show up, I really wish it would have been one night later than when he did. Because right now, there’s something happening between me and this Namjoon, almost chemistry, you might say… enough to give him a strong message at least.

The minute he places a hand on my knee though, this perspective all changes. Suddenly, I find myself anxious at his touch, wishing I’d at least worn tights tonight to cover up the scar… I did it once by accident when shaving, so it’s not like there’s any emotionally painful memories attached to it, but I just don’t like it.

He must think I’m far from feminine right now… My skin was never in the best condition… I’m starting to think that perhaps I’ve been a bit too confident since I left him… Perhaps I need to back down a bit…He seems like a great guy...

You deserve it.

No, I don’t.

I place my shaky hands over the one that rests on my knee and ease it away.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry if that was too much…” he apologizes.

“Um, no it’s not that, sorry…” I apologize also. “It’s just… Look, you’re an extremely nice guy, but I think I’m trying to move on faster than I’m comfortable with, I’m really sorry if I’ve lead you on, I… I was with someone for a very long time, and I…”

...am not even wearing the right underwear,

...don’t have the right body,

...look too plain,

...aren’t good enough...

“...am sorry, I think I should go home.”

I throw my shoes across the corridor, careless about anyone that could potentially be around at this time. I force the bobble out of my hair and throw it in some other direction, probably never to be seen again. I literally rip my shirt off my useless body, tearing some of the sewing work and causing a few buttons to pop off, and I immediately substitute it for some old thing lying on the couch that I’m not even sure is mine.

I rush over to the mirror that stands in my room, and trying with every ounce of strength not to punch it or damage it in any way. Sometimes, when I see what’s in front of the mirror, I want to throw a punch at the glass so it shatters and I don’t have to see what I don’t like. But life isn’t like that; there’s no running away.

God knows I tried to have a more positive attitude. About life, myself, everything. That’s why instead of staying cooped up at home in despair, I moved out and started uni. That’s why instead of lashing out at my reflection, I would nurture it, tell it something nice. That’s why I decided to become a different person.

But people can’t just change that easily, it seems.

I remember when me and my school mates would rank people in the year group on their looks… Compliments and ratings out of 10 and all the rest...

“I mean, she’s cute, but what she really has is the personality, and that’s what counts.”

That one was about me. And we all know what it means when they highlight the personality… Doesn’t even always mean there is one there, but they feel bad, so they tell you that you’ve got one.

“Ugh, I should have drunken more so I could continue this stupid delusion I’ve been holding on myself!”

The skirt needs to come off. It’s not attractive. Not when I’m wearing it.

In the changing rooms, getting ready for the most dreaded lesson of all time. I hated sports with a passion. Not because of the game itself, no. It was the shared changing rooms.

“I’m actually really jealous of her; she has such full thighs, whereas little ol’ me here is stood with this gap…”

They’d always do it to get to us. They, the popular girls. We, the ‘uncool’ kids. They’d mask their insults as compliments so that if you brought it up with a teacher, they could ‘truthfully’ say they hadn’t provoked us.

But I know what sarcasm and ridicule is. And I know how much I wanted to pin that bitch up against the wall and throttle her.

“I really need to sort my thighs out…”

I mutter as a glance as my backside in the mirror while searching for some shorts… No, make that pyjama bottoms. And while I’m at it, I might as well go out and buy some ice cream down the road and cry at chick flicks. What other use do I have right now?

His eyes weren’t on me. Not on a screen either actually. We were out, at a restaurant, supposedly on a date.

It didn’t feel like it though.

But I stuck it out.

I had to, right?

She had an astonishing figure, curves in all the right places. I could understand him glancing away from me every now and then. But what he probably couldn’t understand is how I felt about it. About every incident like this one.

Finally finding some pyjama trousers, I put them on, barely registering my presence in the mirror as I pull them up. I look so out of shape, like one big useless blob. Not particularly fat, but just shapeless.

“Why do you have to look like this?”

“Why do you have to talk to yourself like this?”

Huh?

I didn’t realize I had company… I thought I had the house to myself. Fuck, snap out of it!!

“Taehyung… What are you doing here?... I… I thought you were out tonight…”

“I was.” he tells me, leaning against the doorframe of my room. “At the same place you were, actually.”

“So why did you leave?...”

“You seemed to really be hitting it off with that guy. He seemed… not bad looking, and you looked like you were happy… Why did you leave?”

“I was tired” I bluntly lie, knowing that’s probably not gonna cut it. If he saw me leave, then I’m pretty sure he saw I was lively enough to basically brisk walk out of the room… Whether he saw me run home is a different thing, but that was an awful lie. I’m just doing awfully right now. I can’t tell this to a housemate though; I can’t be a burden.

I should continue talking so that maybe he won’t call me out on it. “And I have a lecture tomorrow so…”

“Hmm” he hums. “If you say so… but are you sure it wasn’t anything to do with that little conversation you were having with yourself just then?”

Why does he have to make me sound like a crazy person on top of all these other flaws that are coming to one big nasty ugly head?

“You know, it’s okay not to keep up appearances every single day… If there’s something the matter, please tell me. I know I’m just someone that lives here, but… I can be here to listen”

Wow. Why is he being so nice to me? Probably the usual reason people are nice to me. People are briefly kind to plain people, and then they get uneasy by the anxiety. I just don’t know what to say right now.

The truth is hard. The truth sucks. The truth needs to be covered.

“Do you know what I feel like when I look over there?” I rhetorically ask, my mouth racing way ahead of my thoughts. “A 6.”

“A 6?”

“Yeah, a 6… as in, out of 10. Average. In the middle. Plain Jane. Nothing special. That girl that people don’t take a look at twice because she’s not stunning enough and she doesn’t have any particularly amazing features about her…”

“I looked at you twice.”

“That girl that always gets the odd guy that takes pity on her so he says something nice one time, hoping she doesn’t become too attached…”

“I looked at you more than twice” he interrupts again. I don’t know where he’s going with this… but I want to listen.

“You know… we never did take that trolley out for a ride….” he continues. “How about we go cause some mischief so you can tell me all about it?”

“Tae… I’m in my pyjamas now…”

“Technically, you’re only half in your pyjamas… I was wondering where that shirt I left on the sofa went…”

Oh damn, of course. It’d have to be the shirt of the first person that comes back home.

“Oh damn, I’m sorry, I just had a moment where I…”

“Keep it on… You look… You look cute” he smiles at me.

I could kick myself for the rush of red I feel sweep across my face at his comment. I can’t lie. I’m quite a defensive person nowadays. I don’t need him to know how that comment just made me feel. Fuck you body and your obvious reactions…

For some reason, I remain in my pyjamas as Taehyung pushes me in the trolley which I still left outside the door down the run-down street, illuminated only by the few lights that have managed to keep running through the neglection of this area. I kind like it though. It feels comfortable. They don’t light up my presence completely and they probably feel as lonely as I do in this state of mind.

“So can I ask why you told the guy back there that you hadn’t moved on? Because from what I could see last night, your relationship with him can’t have been a happy one.”

Alright, he doesn’t beat around the bush, does he? Straight to the point… What can I say? There’s something about Taehyung that I already trust, but I don’t want to be so hasty as to tell him everything.

Where Taehyung is fast to get to the point, I don’t quite cut to the chase, instead getting some of the angst off my chest about the less recent past.

“It was… complicated. I really did love him, at the start. I thought I’d found my soulmate, in fact… I know that seems pretty pathetic,”

“Not at all”

“...but I suppose I was young - much younger than now - and I still believed in fairy tale endings, and I believed in getting married and having kids, and… I could have gotten out of it sooner, I must admit…”

“I heard you earlier at the mirror”

I swear if I were the one pushing this trolley, I would have stopped in my tracks. I know for a fact that’s exactly what my heart just seemed to do. Does he mean what I think he means? Ugh, why do I have this stupid tendency to speak my thoughts out loud?! He heard me before going out too, didn’t he?

“‘It doesn’t matter what you have in front of you; what matters is how you make use of it’...” I divert slightly. “I remember you telling me that no so long ago when I was moving in… Well sometimes Tae, it’s hard to make good use of what’s in front of you.”

The trolley actually stops in its tracks this time and I sense Taehyung moving from behind the trolley to come and face me… Probably to give me some bullshit lecture about loving yourself just to shut me up so he doesn’t have to do this again.

“Do you also remember when I told you I looked at you more than twice?”

“Um, yeah…?...”

“That’s because what was in front of me mesmerized me; she didn’t need changing” he tells me, trying to also climb into the trolley, causing me to quietly exclaim his name as he struggles, but succeeds in joining me.

It’s a little cramped in here, but I can’t say I mind as his legs dangle over the sides, surrounding my small mere presence that still huddles into a ball.

“Why are you being so nice to me? Did you need something in the kitchen that was mine?” I coldly ask. I can’t help it. I’m convinced that he can’t mean what he’s saying.

“What? No!” he responds in an offended tone. “Look, I know a lot of things are scary and can really make your life just feel like one big downer… I was scared at the beginning of this week too, you know.”

“Scared?” I question, extending my legs and allowing them to rest over his.

“Well, I’m your housemate now… How am I supposed to not make it awkward if I were to tell you that I think you’re perfect? I barely know you, but I’m drawn to you. I want to get to know you more. I want to be the one who makes you feel good about yourself. You deserve it.”

“Taehyung, there’s no such thing as perfect…”

“You’re pretty close, in that case then…” he replies, taking a strand of my messy hair and playing with it through his slender fingers. “See, I’m stringing out a bunch of cliches right now, but I don’t care! However long it took you to leave that guy, whatever he put you through, it’s brought you here. To me.”

“Forgive me if I’m sounding rude, but what’s that supposed to mean?” I enquire, trying not to get lost in the feeling of Taehyung playing with my hair; it’s not a direct bodily touch, but I can still feel it, and a shiver emits down my spine.

“Someone to remind you of how awesome you are… I may not ever be able to take you out on a date because we live together, but it’ll be enough for me if I can be the one to make you smile.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re saying Taehyung? You hardly even know me…” I remind him as he begins to create a small plait with the section of hair he was previously playing with

“I don’t just let anyone wear my clothes, you know…” he informs. He then lets go of the strange little plait so he can look up at me. “Please, can you stop being so defensive for at least a few minutes?”

“It’s not that easy… Not when you look and feel like this…” I shrug, keeping my head down to the ground, the detail of which I can just about make out through the limited view that the basket offers.

“So you have a few stretch marks on your skin, and maybe your hair doesn’t always go the way you perceive to be right… So what? We all have our hang ups! In fact, mine are like yours… I don’t like these silver lines I have around my arms, and I reckon I could lose a few pounds or….”

“No you don’t need to” I tell him. He’s definitely just saying all these things to make me feel better; he’s continued to talk too much now for me not be suspicious that this isn’t real… and how is a boy like this one able to point out so many negativities about himself? Seriously…

“Alright, enough of the self-loathing talks… Here’s an idea. Let’s tell each other one thing we like about the other… Do you want to start?”

I might as well… give him some extra time to come up with something for me… So I look up away from the ground finally and find myself playing along with this game. His intentions, I am unsure of, and the outcome, I’m more unknowing of.

“Alright then” I half smile to him, taking in his handsome features, already knowing my favourite. “That freckle you have on your nose. It’s cute.”

“Really? You think it’s cute?” he grins. “I quite like it to… So do you wanna know my thing?”

“Sure.”

“The thing I like best about you is that you’re here. That you moved in to the same house as me and that you’re odd enough to be sat in a trolley with me right now in the middle of the night and the middle of the street… Bonus feature: and you’re wearing my shirt”

I do really like this old shirt.

5 - 10 requests and I’ll create a part 2 since I do have a few ideas running in my mind as to what could happen next...