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savathewolf · 7 years ago

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Hold Me Tight/Can You Trust Me?

Chapter List: (1.) (2.) (3.) (4.) (5.) (6.) (7.) (8.A) (8.B) (8.A.T.) (8.B.T.)

Chapter Three: The Morning That Won’t Change

It’s close to one in the morning when you pull back the sheets, sliding into bed with intense fatigue. After everyone had finished making their purchases, the four of you parted ways at your respective cars. The scene of Taehyung looking back over his shoulder as he climbed into the driver’s seat plays over and over again in your mind: the midnight sky alight with thousands of stars; Taehyung’s eyes reflecting the street lamps; skin glowing softly under the moonlight. He smiles shyly at you, waving goodbye. He drives away.

You’re quite sure you’ve channeled your inner tomato from the heat rising in your face, and you burrow deep into your pillow, giving a small groan. That was not how this night was supposed to go. You toss and turn, trying to get the image of his bright shining eyes out of your mind. You wonder why his eyes lit up like that when they seemed so lifeless before. You don’t remember anything particularly interesting happening. Frustrated with your never-ending train of thought, you tell yourself that there is no point in dwelling on him, that you’ll never see him again, and that’s that.

And yet, the last thing you see before you drift off to sleep is the first real smile he gave only to you.

Your alarm comes much too early in the morning. As is tradition, you flop out of bed and reluctantly begin your morning routine. Soon you’re on your way to the cafe, the warm spring air brushing your skin as you step onto the bus. You feel surprisingly invigorated when you arrive, pushing open the doors with a skip in your step. As usual, Jimin is waiting to serve you, calling out a suggestion the moment you walk through the door. “Caramel mocha?” You nod happily.

Taking out your notebook, you sit down at your spot by the window. Sunlight bathes the pages and makes them feel fresher, more inviting. Still, the words never come easily. You chew the edge of your pencil, closing your eyes. It seems like you’re always wandering down those long blank hallways.

Ding-ding. The door rings in a customer.

“Just a regular cappuccino, a little cream?”

You feel the smallest tap on your shoulder, and you look up to see Taehyung. His expression is as flat as ever.

“May I sit here? I won’t bother you.”

“Sure,” you say, watching him settle down in front of you. He stares out the window while the two of you wait for your drinks.

“So...when’s your next date with Jule?” you ask casually.

“I don’t think she liked me very much,” he says matter of factly, still looking out the window.

“Oh… I’m sorry, that’s too bad.” Stupid, why did I ask that?

He shrugs. “I’m used to it. I’m not what people are expecting.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. Jimin comes over with your respective coffees, and you both awkwardly take a sip. You wonder why he came and sat over here. You start writing again; even if it’s meaningless, at least it’s at least something to look at other than the curve of Taehyung’s jaw and his deep, intense eyes. A few minutes pass.

“What are you writing?” he asks, tilting his head in attempt to read what you’re jotting down. You snap the book shut, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

“It’s nothing really. I...I like to write poetry,” you mumble. You’re channeling your inner tomato again. “I’m not very good. It’s just...something to open up to, somewhere to sort out my thoughts.”

Taehyung holds out his hand. “Can I read a little?” he asks.

You look at him, curious. He is completely unreadable. It’s several seconds before you wordlessly hand your notebook over. The moment you let go, you want to snatch it back, but he’s already turning the pages, his eyes intensely moving back and forth over your handwriting. He reads carefully, drinking in every word, slowly making his way through your entire book.

“You would make a good songwriter,” he says after a while. “I really like this one: The wind whispers softly my destiny. I see no horizon, only endless sky. Follow me, follow me. I’m going where my heart takes me.” You grab your book back quickly, completely mortified.

“That’s enough looking. It’s too embarrassing listening to you read it,” you say, burying your face in your hands. Taehyung laughs, and your heart skips a beat.

“I mean it though. You’re very talented.” He looks at you fondly. Moments later, he resumes his blank expression. Confused, you stop smiling, taking a hasty sip of your drink, which has started to go cold. He feels impossible to read. A few awkward moments pass in silence. Your alarm goes off, and you start at the sound.

“Oh, I have to go to work now,” you say.

He nods, and you turn to head out the door, your cold drink clutched in hand. Something like disappointment creeps over you. A hand gently touches your shoulder, and you spin around to see Taehyung standing close behind you. Much, much too close. He backs up, looking even more surprised than you feel.

“Ah...I was wondering...could...could I get your number?”

He holds a pen out to you, hand trembling slightly.

“Yeah, sure. Here, let me rip some paper out for you,” you reply, doing your best not to act as wildly flustered as you feel. You open your notebook. He stops you abruptly.

“You shouldn’t sacrifice part of your book. Here, just write it on my hand.” He holds his palm out to you. You take it, writing your number carefully on his soft skin. He closes his hand around your trace, a small smile touching his coral pink lips.

“Ah...thank you.” He looks at you, eyes shining for a moment like they did last night. Nodding, you turn heel and bolt out across the road, slamming the door of the bookstore behind you and sprinting into the bathroom. You hear a small knock.

“Uh...what was that?” Hoseok asks through the restroom door.

“Nothing! I just...uh…” you stammer, not really sure how to explain what just happened. You sigh, trying to pull yourself together. “If I tell you something, promise you won’t laugh, okay?”

You hear a snort from the outside. “Sure thing. I will be one hundred percent serious. No laughing at all,” he giggles. You peek through the door, looking up at him with a sheepish expression.

“A guy just asked me for my number.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen, his mouth hanging open.

“No way!” he gasps dramatically. You roll your eyes, slamming the door in his face.

“Hey, I didn’t laugh though!” he protests. “Come on, tell me who it is!”

You peek through the door again.

“Remember that guy from last night—?”

You’re cut off by Hobi’s excited yelling. “I didn’t realize when I asked you to do me a favor it was really the other way around!” he chortles, pinching your cheeks cutely. “Aww, someone’s got herself a boyfriend!”

You smack his hands away, your face bright red. “It might not even go anywhere, okay? He asked me, I was just trying to be nice!” As you protest, Hobi’s smirks get wider.

“Uh-huh. And that’s why you completely panicked and hid yourself in the bathroom!” He pokes you in the belly. “Hurry up and get changed, miss, we have a lot of shelves to sort. And it’s nice outside so we’ll probably have some customers today!” Hoseok shuts the door, leaving you to get ready for work.

You spend the next few hours in deep regret; Hobi does not let the conversation drop and comes up with every hypothetical scenario about the future nature of your relationship. By the time you break for lunch, your eyes hurt from rolling them constantly. You plop down onto one of the fluffy couches near the back of the store and pull out a sandwich, taking a huge bite as you check your phone.

One new message.

“Hello. This is Kim Taehyung.”

You choke on your sandwich, fighting to breathe. You read the text again. Should you respond?

“Hobi, he texted me!” you shout, terrified.

“Whaaaa!” he cries, sprint and leaping onto the couch beside you. He snatches the phone out of your hand. “Wooooow! He really likes you to text you so quickly.” His eyes are huge. “You gotta text him back right now!”

You flop onto Hobi’s lap dramatically, feeling overwhelmed.

“I don’t know what to say,” you moan, covering your face with your hands. It’s Hoseok’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Say ‘Hey! Want to go out later?’” he suggests. You shake your head.

“He just had a date with a different girl yesterday, he’ll think I’m being too weird. What if I just...say hello back,” you suggest timidly. Clicking his tongue, Hobi hands you your phone.

“Come on, you’re great! He won’t think you’re being weird. At least say something other than hello. Ask him how is day’s been or something, at least.”

Nervously, you start to type, agonizing over every detail.

“Hey Taehyung! How has your day been?”

Hobi pushes send for you before you can rewrite your message for the seventeenth time. “All done! I’m going to finish my lunch, let me know when anything exciting happens!” He trots off to the register.

Within moments there’s a new response.

“It’s been nice enough. I really like this warm weather so I’ve been working outside. How about you?”

You spend your entire lunch break and the next hour after that texting Taehyung. You learn that he’s currently working on his own line of fashion, that he has a dog named Yeontan, and that his favorite color is purple. You tell him that you’re not sure where you want to go in life, that you like being out in nature, and that you love working in the bookstore because you get to read on the job.

You look up to see Hoseok taking care of your portion of books, and you realize how long you’ve been distracted. Feeling guilty, you tell Taehyung reluctantly that you have to get back to work. His new text comes through seconds later.

“Do you work tomorrow? Can I take you up on that shopping trip?”

Incredulous, you type back:

“I am off tomorrow. I’d love to go! How about we meet up at noon?”

His immediate response: “I’ll pick you up. See you then.”

Anxious, you run to tell Hobi everything that’s happened.

Taehyung looks at the texts, reading them over and over. She said yes. She said yes. She said yes. He feels queasy and exhilarated all at once, like being at the edge of a cliff looking down. He’s happy, but scared. He puts his head in his hands. This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake. Yet for the rest of the day, his steps are lighter, and he smiles naturally for the first time in years.

At the end of the day, he drives home, his thoughts only on you.

Another sleepless night. Thoughts of Taehyung swirl around your head even in your dreams. In the morning you wake up early, springing out of bed to start getting ready. You shower until the hot water runs out, comb your hair until every tangle is gone, spend two hours meticulously putting on your makeup. You agonize over your outfit and eventually settle on wearing a semi-casual skirt and shirt with an especially flattering jacket.

You look over at the clock...it’s only nine-thirty.

It’s going to be a long morning.

Taehyung arrives ten minutes until noon. You rush down to meet him, only managing to calm down seconds before you exit the stairwell. He gets out of his car and opens the door for you, holding out his hand in case you need to steady yourself. His cheeks are flushed with a soft pink that matches his lips.

Everything about him exudes life today. This sudden change in demeanor is tangible. He talks excitedly in that slow, winding way of his. He listens to your responses carefully, thoughtfully, and responds with deep thoughts. You arrive at a very nice clothing store in no time at all and walk in right alongside Taehyung, your elbows brushing from standing so close.

“How about we both pick an outfit for each other?” he suggests. You blush at the thought.

“I don’t know if I’m all that confident in my fashion abilities,” you say shyly. He touches your hair lightly.

“I’ll wear whatever you pick out for me without complain, even if it’s terrible,” he teases.

“Oh yeah? What about that orange dress over there?” you grin.

“Well it’s not really my color but if that’s what you want…” You both laugh together.

It’s like a dream. When Taehyung laughs, his eyes form half-moons, his smile a perfect little box. Every time he looks at you, his face softens.

You thought he was excessive in picking out dresses to replace the one he ruined of Jule’s, but that was nothing compared to today. He carefully analyzes every part of you, your eye color, your height, your skin tone, and fills an entire shopping cart full of things for you to try on. You do your best to pick out flattering things for him as well. After some debating, you decide his best colors are a pastel blue and white. You’re less certain about your choices but after a while you have quite a selection as well. You both show off your outfits, taking turns changing and jokingly strutting back and forth as if you were on a catwalk.

You stand looking in the mirror at the end of the aisle. Taehyung comes up behind you with a necklace, gently fastening it on you. The single pendant perfectly sets off the dress you’re wearing. As you admire yourself in the mirror, you see him shyly reach to smooth your hair, then catch himself. His hand slowly drops to his side. A glimpse of his sad demeanor weighs down his shoulders.

You turn around. “Something wrong?”

He won’t look you in the eyes.

“No, I’m just...it’s nothing. I’m having a really nice time,” he says softly.

But for the rest of the day, he’s a little quieter.

Taehyung drives you home and walks you to your doorstep. You both stand there for a while, still talking, unwilling to part ways. You only let him leave with the promise that you’ll meet up again soon. As you watch him drive away, you catch the scent of him on your skin and sigh deeply. Late that night, you’re still awake, reliving your favorite moments of the day. A text buzzes in your ear, and you open it to read:

“Are you still awake?”

Tap tap tap go the keys as you respond.

“Yep!”

“Coffee tomorrow morning before work?”

You wriggle happily in your bed, holding the phone close as you type. It doesn’t seem like you’re going to be able to sleep at all tonight.

Early the next morning, you burst into the cafe to be greeted by the surprised face of Jimin. He grins at you.

“Something special today. Interesting!” he calls.

It’s been ages since you ordered yourself, so you simply take a seat as you always do. He finishes quicker than usual, and sets two matching cups in front of you, winking at your confused expression. Moments later, Taehyung walks in, his face lighting up when he sees you waiting for him. He goes to the counter, but Jimin just points at the two cups and waves him away.

“Did you order for me?” Taehyung asks, confused. You shake your head. “How does he always know?” he muses, taking a sip.

“I ask myself that every day,” you shrug. Taehyung is eager to know what you’ve been writing, and you shyly show him everything you’ve penned late into the night when you’d been unable to sleep from excitement. The more you talk, the closer you lean toward each other, till your hands brush accidentally, and Taehyung’s face turns scarlet. He snaps back and launches into a sudden story about his dog to cover his awkward feelings.

The hour ticks by, and your pleasant chatter is interrupted by the alarm on your phone. You both look at each other, neither willing to move. Slowly you stand.

“I’d better get going,” you say. Taehyung stands too.

“Yeah, me too.” No one moves.

“Let’s do this again, yeah?”

His eyes light up. “What about tomorrow?”

It wasn’t just tomorrow. It was every day after that. It was little outings and texting until three in the morning when you both have to get up at seven. He took you to meet his dog, you both went and watched the latest movie. Today, he comes by your work to surprise you with a lunch he bought for you to share. Hobi smiles knowingly as you and Taehyung settle onto the couch together, sharing your food and thoughts. He’s familiar now—the pattern of his words, his boxy smile and soft fluffy hair, the way he dresses impeccably even on the most casual of days. You realize you’ve started leaning toward him when you sit together. He strokes your hair now, almost absentmindedly, like he too has grown familiar with your presence.

“Are we still on for that movie tonight?” you ask, popping a piece of chicken into your mouth. Taehyung nods happily.

“Of course we are. I’ll pick you up at seven. Let me know what you want to eat and I’ll buy it on the way,” he offers.

True to his word, he picks you up at seven p.m. sharp, and soon you’re both settled in his apartment, Yeontan curled up between you with dewy eyes begging for some of the pizza you’re sharing. When you’re done eating you turn on the movie, an award-winning foreign film that Taehyung swears you’ll love.

Worn out from the long day’s work, you find yourself more and more leaning on his broad shoulders. Spontaneously Taehyung pulls you into his lap, looking surprised at his own boldness. He cradles you sweetly, shyly taking your hand as you snuggle deep into the folds of his soft, oversized shirt. He smells faintly of lavender and cinnamon. Your fingers intertwine perfectly with his. Completely at ease, you fall asleep peacefully in his arms.

You awaken to a dark room, where a soft lilting voice is floating through the air. Taehyung is singing quietly, his voice filled with deep sorrow. He’s singing your words, the ones he read from your book, but it’s his own melody he’s composed. He hasn’t meant to wake you; you don’t know how long he’s been singing before you woke, but you stay still, listening.

“The wind whispers softly my destiny. I see no horizon, only endless sky. Follow me, follow me. I’m going where my heart takes me. I fear nothing, no harm can come when we walk together. Close your eyes, close your eyes, I will always be here for you. Beside you. My love washing over you. Together we seize the future, never waiting for the sun to rise…”

On and on he sings, like a siren in the night. You touch his cheek and he starts, but he doesn’t stop singing. You sit up to rest your head on his shoulder, feeling his strong voice vibrate on your cheek. His dark eyes shine through the blackness of the room. So deep and clear. You lean up, pressing your lips tenderly against his, closing off his voice. He stiffens, shaken, but leans toward you, putting an arm around your waist, pulling you in closer.

Caught up in the heat of the moment, you don’t feel the tears trailing down his cheek.

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