Dusk - p3 - Evenfall
Vampire AU pairing - OT7 x reader , BTS x reader word count - 6.6k+ summary - Wednesday passes by in a blur of awkward encounters and bookstore visits. One thing you can be sure of-- nothing is as it seems in Forks, WA. Especially where the Kims are involved. The upcoming Friday party looms over your head like a raincloud. warnings - cussing , dissociation / mild panic attack Dusk Masterlist
The weather is shit on Wednesday, so you offer to drive the girls again because your car is most suited for the onslaught of water.
Victoria sits in the passenger seat, scrolling on her phone absentmindedly. Naomi sits behind you, eyes on her notes and brows scrunched as Rachel drones on and on about the “dude in art” who’d taken Victoria’s place as her partner.
“For the millionth time, his name’s Jason,” Victoria sighs, clicking her phone screen off and rolling her eyes.
“Doesn’t matter,” Rachel hums, “at least Jason had the stones to be my partner.”
“You weren’t taking the assignment seriously at all, Rachel.”
“Professor Modez told us to let our hands work faster than our brains.”
Victoria snaps her mouth shut, and you work hard not to laugh at the possible comebacks she had in her arsenal.
“So,” you start, “Jason… are you like, into him?”
Rachel scoffs loudly, shaking her head rapidly, “God no. I just appreciated that he was willing to partner up.”
Victoria shoots you a look of exhaustion before facing out the passenger window, her expression changing from annoyance to bewilderment. “Jesus, how rich are they?”
You crane your neck to see who, or what, she’s looking at as you pull into the campus parking lot.
“Sheesh, that must be a new one,” Rachel whispers. “A Royce? Really?”
It’s a nice car. Expensive. You can tell just from your quick glance-over.
You pull into a spot diagonally where the “fucking Rolls-Royce Wraith,” as Rachel so adequately put it, is parked, and watch as Namjoon steps out of the driver’s seat. Yoongi (you think) exits the passenger side as a BMW pulls up next to them, and the rest of the Kims, minus Taehyung, step out of the vehicle as Seokjin shuts off the engine.
“Wow,” Rachel sighs. “Must be nice.”
You shake your head and shut your engine off, decidedly not gawking at the cars, and Kims, parked across from you. “Let’s just get to class.”
“Sure thing,” Victoria answers, following after you with Naomi and Rachel close behind.
“A fucking Wraith, Vic,” Rachel whispers, and you huff out a breath.
With Wednesday mirroring your Monday schedule, you start the day with intro. to drama once more.
You run a few minutes late, having been caught up in conversation with Victoria, so by the time the bell rings to signal the beginning of the day, you’re stuck in the closest empty seat to the door- on the side of Jungkook that Seokjin isn’t occupying. Your only other immediate option? The empty seat on the other side of Kim Seokjin. Did no one sit next to these guys ever? Really?
The differences between the two Kims are there, but it’s the similarities that captivate you during the beginning of class. Their movements are completed before you have time to register they’re happening, precise- like Jimin’s had been with the charcoal the day prior- and too smooth for how cramped the desks are. There’s a beauty to the way they move, an inhuman beauty.
“Taehyung will be upset he missed this,” Jungkook says under his breath, clearly directing the comment to Seokjin as Professor Phillips speaks about Shakespeare between the rows of desks.
“He’s probably watching French Films at home while he… gets better,” Seokjin replies quietly.
The pause was pointed, but you try your best to seem unfazed, schooling your features into those of someone paying their utmost attention to their professor, yet you can still feel the drop of the side of your mouth at the comment.
“Today, my star pupils, we’ll be running through some lines from Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet.” The class is a mix of groans and excited chatter, “Listen up, listen up… you’ll be working in groups of three. Run through the lines on the papers in front of you a few times, get comfortable with them, and pick your favorite. We’ll do some quick demonstrations before class is out,” he waits for the groans to die down this time, “and then I’ll clue you all in on your major assignment for this semester.”
You pick up the papers in front of you, moving to stand, when Jungkook clears his throat from next to you.
“You could work with us,” he offers.
Your eyes land on his, wide and confused, “What about your brother?”
“My brother?” Jungkook responds, equally confused, before realization dawns. “Oh, Taehyung?”
You nod, catching Seokjin’s head shaking out of the corner of your eyes. “Yeah. Him.”
“He’s sick. We can always partner up with him later,” Jungkook smiles. “You can at least work with us today… only if you want to, of course.”
The way he says it feels almost like a challenge, and your heart stammers when you lift your eyes to meet Jungkook’s, finding that Seokjin is already staring you down from his side. Like he knows your answer.
“Fine.”
“Alright then.” Jungkook smirks.
Seokjin laughs lightly, the sound musical and bright, and taps the ends of his bunched papers against the desk to straighten them.
It was awkward at first, what with the brief glances you thought you caught Jungkook shooting towards the vacant seat opposite Seokjin (he’d always had his eyes right back on you or Jin the moment you’d thought you finally caught him) and the feeling of Kim Seokjin monitoring you for the entirety of the exercise.
And it’s not that that made you feel small, or lesser, or childish in any sense. You just felt more aware somehow. Of yourself and of the short distance between you and the youngest and oldest Kim. Aware of how the space curls tighter than it may be around the three of you. Aware of their stillness when they’re not running the lines prompted, or adjusting their posture after you’ve already done so twice.
You’re aware that you sit straighter. That your mind liquifies the few odd times that Jungkook decides to offer you a knowing smile and flip his stupid fucking lip ring he loves so much with his tongue when he catches you looking. And Seokjin-- yeah, he watches you. Says his lines with such carefree perfection that you find yourself hoping to see him fuck up, if only once.
An hour (and some odd Hamlet scenes) later, you start at the slight tap to your shoe, stifling your yip of surprise as you meet Jungkook’s crooked smirk. “Your turn,” he whispers.
You offer a weak smile in apology, nodding your head as you shift into your Ophelia voice,
“Good my lord,
How does your Honor for this many a day?”
Jungkook’s answering line is rehearsed with precision and the sort of emotion some professional actors can only dream of one day displaying.
“Doesn’t excelling at everything get boring?” you ask him after settling back in your seats. Thankfully, your group had not been among the three chosen to demonstrate before the class.
“Jealous?” He asks, eyebrow raised.
“Of acting? No. Never been my forte. The drawing, maybe,” you nod, referencing the shared art class from the previous day. “But not acting… I just- I can’t imagine it’s very thrilling to not have goals to work to because you’re already so perfect at everything.” You explain.
Jungkook offers a small shrug, “Maybe sometimes. I’ve also had time to practice.”
“Right,” you laugh dryly. “Because I’m supposed to believe you’re not just gifted?”
His eyebrow raises again, and he motions for you to continue.
“You don’t act like you’ve had to work for it. The talent. It’s like you just have it. Naturally, or whatever.”
Jungkook shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “or whatever,” he whispers to himself.
“So you’re not an artist?” Seokjin asks from Jungkook’s opposite side.
You sputter a laugh, “uh, no. Not exactly.” You jam a thumb Jungkook’s way, “he can attest to that.”
“It wasn’t awful,” he tries to reason.
“Don’t gas me up. It was atrocious,” you shake your head, meeting Seokjin’s eyes, “I drew Jimin completely wrong. He looked like he was going through anaphylaxis on my paper.”
“Some might call that an improvement where Jimin’s concerned,” Seokjin smiles.
“Yeah?”
Jungkook shifts into your space slowly, the smell of him- cherries and frosted pine- hits you like a train. “Jin and Jimin bicker a lot,” he explains.
“We do not,” Jin snaps quickly and quietly, folding his papers neatly into his notebook as Professor Phillips winds down the class. The major assessment, you learn, is getting in groups of four and performing an entire act from a play of your choosing.
“They’re bickering currently. He’s touchy on it, clearly,” Jungkook smirks, leaning over to press a reassuring hand against Jin’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Jin. Namjoon will mediate later, like always, and I’m sure Jimin will give your earbuds back to you.”
Jin narrows his eyes at Jungkook, but whispers in a tone that borders on concerned, “I don’t even know why he takes them. It’s gross. He has his own.”
“Simple. Yours are more expensive,” Jungkook smirks, turning to Professor Phillips before he nears your table.
Noting the way that Jungkook and Jin busy themselves with checking their phones and chatting quietly amongst each other, you turn to your professor.
“We didn’t have time to catch up yesterday after class,” Professor Phillips smiles, nodding his head in acknowledgment at Jungkook when he looks between the two of you. “On how the class went,” Phillips explains at your confused stare.
“Oh,” your brows furrow, “I didn’t know I was supposed to get with you on that.”
“You weren’t,” he replies swiftly, “Not supposed to, at least. I just wanted to check in on you, since I know your dad.”
You tense a little at that bit of information being tossed out without warning. It’s not that it’s incriminating for your professor to know your father, because it’s not, but maybe there’s a kernel of you that didn’t want your classmates knowing you had, albeit loose, ties to a member of staff. Jungkook clears his throat softly to the side of you, and you’re unsure of whether it was an attempt to end the conversation or to just let you know he was still there. Regardless, Phillips pays him no mind, instead keeping his attention on you.
Thankfully, no other students are concerned about your encounter. Most had filed out, and the few stragglers were either striking up conversations with each other to avoid heading to their next class or playing on their phones like Jin and Jungkook appeared to still be doing.
“Yesterday went fine,” you tell Professor Phillips tightly, plastering a nice smile on your face. “Today went fine, too.”
“And this class?”
“It’s been good so far,” you tell him, trying to ignore the mental preening your words seem to do to his ego. Men.
“Glad to hear it,” he smiles, “if you need anything at all, you can always stop by and ask. I’d love to help in whatever ways I can.”
Gross.
“Thanks, Professor Phillips,” you say, emphasizing the title. He offers you another smile before heading back towards his desk.
Your nails bite into your palms as you stand up, bookbag slung over your shoulder.
“Thanks for letting me partner with you guys today,” you tell the two Kims before stalking out of the room. You choose to ignore the look Jin shot your way, the way he seemed almost apologetic.
10:05 do u think i’ll get suspended or kicked out if i drink on campus
The near-instant bubbles that pop up on the text thread between you and Victoria reveal that she’d gotten your message right away. Your shoulders relax a bit as you stalk towards the breezeways that will lead you to your astronomy class.
10:06 serious question? prob kicked out. idk that they do the whole fool me once fool me twice fool me three times bullshit here. too small for ppl to be acting like delinquents
You react to her text with a crying emoji before opening the door to your next class.
It’s almost full due to your late departure from drama. You sigh as you settle into a chair close to the exit, pulling out your notebook and trying to ignore the look of concern on Namjoon’s face from across the room as you recalibrate. He frowns, small but there, before pulling out his phone.
Whatever.
Professor Jones doesn’t encroach on your personal space. Doesn’t ask you how your previous day went, or hint that she knows any of your family members (because she doesn’t) in the presence of your classmates. She just does her job. Like an instructor should, a small part of you echoes.
You find that you genuinely enjoy the time spent in her classroom. And even though Namjoon was nice enough the day prior, you also find yourself appreciating the space between the two of you. You liked learning, and you could admit that doing so had been proven perhaps a tad difficult when the Kims were surrounding you.
Professor Jones ends the lecture with questions you clearly cannot answer here and now. Spiral galaxies, elliptical galaxies, and irregular galaxies all seem the same to you. The sun will eventually die. Andromeda will merge with the Milky Way. The cosmos is a wondrous, vast thing. And you were just a blip in its existence. Small. Inconsequential. Not an insult, just fact.
You peer down at your phone as people start filtering out of the room, replying to the group text between you and the three others to reassure them that yes, you would still be driving everyone home.
“You all good?”
You don’t have to look up to know it’s Namjoon asking you the question. Partially because his voice stands out, but also partially due to the simple fact that you’d spoken with none of the other students in the class.
“Don’t you have a squabble to be refereeing?”
“What?”
The tone of his voice has you looking up at him. He’d put on a pair of glasses at some point during the lecture, and you’re stunned by them because they look good. Namjoon stiffens slightly, almost as if he’d caught on to your wandering thoughts, so you shove them away with fervor before meeting his eyes again.
“Jimin stole Jin’s earbuds or something.”
“Again?”
You laugh, “supposedly so.”
“He has his own,” Namjoon says with a shake of his head.
“They’re not expensive enough,” you offer Jungkook’s earlier reasoning, and Namjoon suppresses a wide smile with a small one. You’d be lying if you claimed not to be disappointed in his doing so.
“Thanks for the heads up,” he says softly. “But seriously, you good?”
“I’m good,” you nod, adding after a moment, “it’s just been a long morning.”
Namjoon accepts your answer with a nod of his own, but doesn’t press the matter.
“My friends were fawning over your car this morning,” you tell him when he lingers near your desk. He steps gracefully out of your way as you stand up and gather your things.
“I’ve had it for a bit,” Namjoon says with what sounds like embarrassment. “I only drove it this morning because the others wouldn’t stop arguing about who was driving.”
“Ah,” you tip your head. “Egos.”
“Something like that,” he chuckles. The sound is low, and bordering on pretty. “Jungkook just got his car, so he jumps at the opportunity whenever it’s offered. I think the others end up wanting to drive theirs just to annoy him… or to avoid his speeding.”
“Even Taehyung?”
Namjoon tenses at the mention of Taehyung, but recovers so quickly you wonder if you’d seen it. “Even Tae.” He’s silent for a moment before continuing, “I heard about your run-in with him yesterday. I’m sorry about that.”
“No need,” you wave off his apology.
“Taehyung isn’t usually so…” he trails off.
“Dickish?” You offer the word from Victoria’s dictionary.
He laughs fully as you guys exit the classroom, “Sure, dickish. But really, he’s a good guy. He’s just going through some stuff at the moment.”
“Mmm,” you nod. “I didn’t think it was something I did, for what it’s worth,” a lie, but there was truth behind it. You hadn’t done anything wrong. You just ran into the guy accidentally. From the display at the assembly and drama afterwards, you’d assumed Taehyung’s distaste for you ran deeper than your stumble.
“Good. It wasn’t.”
“Jin said Taehyung’s getting better?”
“Yeah, he’s got the stomach flu.”
“That sucks. I didn’t know that was getting passed around right now. I hope I don’t get it.” You shiver, remembering the short physical contact you shared with Taehyung.
“Vaccinated?”
“Duh.”
“That helps,” Namjoon smirks.
“Doesn’t mean I want to spend the next two days on the bathroom floor,” you grimace.
“That does sound pretty miserable.” He replies as you near the parking lot. “Your roommates will take care of you if you get sick, right?”
“At least two of them.”
“The other?”
“Not so much,” you sigh.
You try to avoid the three sets of eyes that burn holes into your head from your car as you descend the steps to the lot… and the additional five sets that come from the two luxury cars across the way. From the way Namjoon shifts his balance (gracefully, mind you) from one foot to the other, you can tell he’s doing the same.
“Well, if you get sick, I’m sorry.” Namjoon offers kindly, “But I have a feeling you won’t.”
“I admire the optimism,” you exhale. “Thanks for checking on me,” you add awkwardly, “I don’t really know people here.”
“It’s no problem, really.” He reassures you. “See you in class?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “see you.”
“Kim fucking Namjoon, Victoria!”
“I heard you the first ten times, Rachel.” Victoria groans.
“I’m right here,” you whisper, signaling to turn out of the parking lot. “Like, literally right here. Am I invisible? A ghost?”
Naomi shakes her head from the passenger seat, offering you a weak smile and a mouthed sorry.
“I just don’t get it.” Rachel sighs.
“Anyways,” Victoria drawls, eyes locking onto yours in the rearview as she ends the conversation with Rachel. “I need to go to the bookstore before it closes tonight. You wanna go?”
“Absolutely,” you nod.
“Oooh, can I tag along? I’ve been meaning to get the new ACOTAR book.” Naomi perks up.
“Sure thing, we can take my car now that the weather is behaving.” Victoria smiles.
“What about me?” Rachel asks.
“You want to go to the bookstore?” Victoria gapes.
“Well, yeah? I do read, you know.”
“Yeah?”
“Listen, I get that I’m a bitch, but I can enjoy reading, too. The two things aren’t mutually exclusive. A bitch can read.”
Despite your feelings regarding Rachel, you laugh. And the others do, too.
“The new ACOTAR is good, by the way,” Rachel tells Naomi before popping her earbuds in and leaning back in her seat.
“Today’s weird.” Naomi’s words settle into the space of the car, and you can only offer her a nod before you turn on the radio and axe any possibility of the girls furthering in their questioning on Namjoon Kim.
The bookstore is quiet and warm, the shelves line the walls to the ceiling, and are stocked full of books, both new and used.
Your eye catches on a few, and you do a quick check of your bank account before allowing yourself to grab three of the five that caught your fancy, one of which you’ve read before but have yet to own. Naomi and Rachel are both standing near the Sarah J Maas corner, eyeing Throne of Glass novels with intense interest, whilst you and Victoria stand near the coffee and hot chocolate maker that’s neighboring the register counter.
“It’s free, right?” You ask as Vic pours some of the hot chocolate mix into her hot water.
“Yep,” she nods. “It’s a huge selling point here.”
You chew on your bottom lip before pouring your own cup. Stirring the mix in with one of the little plastic stirrers, you turn to your friend, almost dropping your cup when you notice Jimin standing near the historical section of the shop with Jin. Neither of them appears wounded, so you assume Namjoon had done his job of mediator well enough.
Jimin catches your eye just before you turn away and smiles at you, waving his acknowledgment and pointing you out to Jin. Jin, bless him, nods once before refocusing on the books in front of him.
“They’re everywhere lately,” Vic whispers, sipping at her flimsy cup. “It’s like you summon them.”
“That’d be a fucking pointless power,” you shake your head, and Vic laughs. “They’re probably just looking for a book for a class or something.”
“Mhm,” she nods, but seems unconvinced. “Any of them catch your fancy yet?”
“Are you joking?” You scoff at her, but even to you the sound seems flat and weightless.
“It’s just a question,” she smirks, and you catch Jimin looking your way again.
“I’m not justifying it with an answer.”
“Listen, all I’m saying is… I haven’t seen a single Kim look at anyone on campus or back in high school the way they look at you.”
“We’ve been in class for a few days, dude.”
“I’m not claiming it makes sense,” Vic shrugs. “Just want to be transparent with you. I mean, I guess I have only seen you around Jungkook and Jimin. But even Namjoon today? He looked like he was interested with the way he escorted you to your car.”
“Okay, technically, he only walked with me to the lot, and it’s not like that. With any of them.”
“You sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
“So… is that why Jimin’s walking over to us now?” She asks with a quirked brow and a sneaky smirk.
You snap your mouth shut and pause stirring your hot chocolate to smile at Jimin as he walks up. He’s completely relaxed, hands in his jacket pockets, none the wiser to your conversation with Victoria moments prior, but there’s an aura to him that seems almost cocky when he smiles back at you… like he’s caught you in a trap. Up close, he smells faintly clean, something soft and floral that cuts through the aroma of hot chocolate wafting up from your cup.
“Hey,” he says, voice light, like he’s not interrupting anything at all. His eyes flick briefly to Vic before they settle again on you. “Sorry--do you mind if I ask you something?”
Victoria’s elbow nudges into your side, subtle but intentional. The witch.
“Depends,” you reply, brow lifted. “Is it weird?”
Jimin’s lips curve, just slightly, and his eyes crinkle into those half moons that have you wanting to swoon. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s what people who ask weird stuff usually say,” you mutter, but there’s no bite to your words.
“I’m looking for something new to read,” he continues, like you hadn’t said anything at all. “You seemed… decisive earlier.” His gaze drops to the books tucked against your side before running the length of your torso and neck back to your face. “Figured I’d ask.”
There’s something about the way he says it, earlier, that makes your stomach twist faintly.
Victoria hums beside you, far too pleased with herself. You side-eye her, hoping it stings, but not really.
“Well,” you start, shifting your weight, “depends on what you’re into. Fantasy? Romance? Something that’ll emotionally devastate you for no reason?”
“Dealer’s choice,” jimin says easily. “What would you recommend?”
You narrow your eyes at him slightly, like you’re trying to figure out if this is a trick question. “That sounds like a setup.”
“It’s not,” he assures you, tone softening just a fraction. “I just want your opinion.”
Your grip tightens slightly around the cup in your hand. There’s the feeling again, like he’s not just asking about the damn books in the shop.
Victoria clears her throat lightly. “She’s got good taste,” she offers, casual, like she didn’t enjoy every second of this torture. “Even if she won’t admit it.”
You shoot her another withering glare, and she just smiles in response.
“Do you?” Jimin asks, attention never leaving you.
“I mean,” you shrug, trying to play it off and end this conversation before it really builds, “I don’t pick terrible ones. Not particularly fantastic ones, either.”
“That’s not what I asked,” he smirks.
There’s a beat. A small one. But it stretches somehow.
You swallow, then glance down at the books between your arm and side, using them as an anchor. “This one’s good,” you say, setting your cup on the counter to hold your previous read up slightly. “It’s more character-driven, kinda slow at first, but it picks up. And this--” you tilt another towards him, “this one’s supposed to be pure chaos. In a good way,” you amend. “I haven’t actually read it yet.”
Jimin leans in to look, closer than necessary, his shoulder almost brushing yours. “Chaos,” he repeats, thoughtful. “I can work with that.”
Your breath catches, not noticeably, you hope, but enough that you shift back half a step without meaning to.
He notices. Of course he does.
But he doesn’t comment.
Instead, he straightens, eyes flicking once more over your face before he smiles again, softer this time. “Thanks. I’ll trust your judgment.”
“Bold move,” you mutter.
Victoria snorts quietly into her cup.
Jimin’s gaze lingers a second longer than it should. “Not really,” he says. “You don’t seem like someone who recommends things lightly.”
The feeling is there again, like this conversation is about more than simply just books.
“Guess you’ll find out,” you reply, forcing a small smile.
“I think I will,” he nods, a slight dip of his head, and steps back, the space between you easing in a way that feels almost immediate. Like you hadn’t realized how close he was until he wasn’t anymore.
“I’ll let you get back to it,” he adds, glancing back at Victoria briefly. “Nice seeing you again.”
Victoria perks up just enough to smile back. “You too.”
Jimin turns, heading back toward the shelves where Jin still stands, flipping a page he doesn’t seem to be reading. And just before Jimin fully disappears down the aisle he’d been standing close to originally with Jin, he glances back. Not at Victoria. At you.
Victoria exhales next to you, low and impressed. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “That was totally about books.”
You collect your hot chocolate from the counter and stare down at it in your hands, watching the surface ripple slightly.
“Shut up.”
But your voice lacks conviction. Victoria says something back, something quick, teasing, but it blurs before it fully lands. The words slide past you like water over glass, distorted and distant.
Your fingers tighten again over the paper cup in your hand. The bookstore feels too warm, suddenly. Or maybe you’re just aware of it now. The heat from the cup bleeding into your palm, the faint hum of the overhead lights, the soft shuffle of pages turning somewhere deeper in the aisles. It all presses in at once, like your senses have decided to wake up all at the same time.
Your heart stutters. Not fast, not slow… just off, a bit.
You swallow, but your throat feels dry, which doesn’t make sense because you just took a sip. The taste of chocolate lingers, too sweet now, sitting heavy on your tongue. And for a second, just one second, you can still feel it. The space where Jimin had been standing. So close. So aware.
You blink, once, twice, forcing your gaze to refocus on the swirling liquid in the cup.
“Hey,” Victoria’s voice cuts in clearer this time, closer.
You inhale, slow and deliberate, like you’re reminding your body how to do it properly. The noise of the bookstore filters back in, piece by piece, Naomi’s voice somewhere nearby, Rachel laughing at something, the soft beep of the register. Normal.
“Earth to YN,” Vic murmurs, bumping her shoulder lightly against yours. “You good?”
“Peachy,” you say with a shake of your head, taking another careful sip of your hot chocolate like it might ground you back into your body. It doesn’t. At least not fully.
“Mm,” she hums, unconvinced.
Before she can say anything else, Naomi and Rachel reappear from around the corner of the aisle, both of them clutching books to their chests like they’d just robbed the place blind.
“Got ‘em,” Naomi beams, holding up her copy. “They had, like, three different editions, and I almost lost my mind trying to pick one.”
“Same,” Rachel adds, though her attention is already drifting, eyes narrowing slightly as they flick between you and Victoria. “What’d we miss?”
“Nothing,” you answer immediately.
“Everything,” Vic says at the same exact time.
Rachel’s head tilts, interest piqued instantly. “Oh, now I know that’s a lie,” she smiles at you, sickly sweet.
Naomi’s gaze lingers on you a second longer than necessary, something softer there, curious but not pushy. “Was that Jimin?” She asks gently.
You sigh, tossing your hot chocolate into the trash bin next to the aisle. “Can we not do this here?”
Victoria snorts again into her cup.
“I’m just asking,” Naomi says, though she’s clearly already piecing it together. “He came over, right?”
Rachel perks up like she’s just been handed a live wire. “Wait-- he came over? To you?”
“It was nothing,” you insist, starting towards the register before they can circle you any further. “He asked for a book recommendation. That’s it.”
“That’s it,” Victoria echoes under her breath, far too amused.
Rachel hurries to keep up with you, nearly bumping into your shoulder. “And you just… gave one to him? Like a normal person?”
“What was I supposed to do, Rachel? Gatekeep literature?” you shoot back, exasperation finally bleeding through your tone.
“I don’t know,” she shrugs, unfazed. “Be interesting about it.”
Naomi laughs softly behind you, stepping up beside the two of you as the line for the register comes into view. “Pretty sure being approached in a bookstore is already interesting enough.”
“Thank you,” you mutter, shooting her a grateful look.
Rachel crosses her arms, still eyeing you like you’re withholding classified information. “Did he flirt with you?”
“No.”
Victoria makes a small noise.
You cut her a look.
“What?” she shrugs innocently. “I’m just breathing.”
“You’re not subtle,” you hiss.
“Wasn’t trying to be.”
The line moves quicker than expected, and before Rachel can dig her claws in any deeper, you’re setting your books down on the counter, Vic getting in line behind you. The cashier smiles politely as she scans them, Naomi and Rachel stepping up beside you to do the same, both still buzzing over their ACOTAR finds. You swipe your friends’ books from their grasp with ease, motioning for the cashier to scan them as well.
“That’ll be--” the cashier starts, and you tap your card against the reader before she can finish.
Naomi gasps softly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” you shrug. “Consider it a ‘thanks for not interrogating me like a suspect’ bonus.”
Rachel scoffs. “I haven’t even started yet.”
“I know,” you sigh. “Yours was a bribe.”
Victoria laughs outright at that, grabbing her book and tucking it against her side. “Smart. Preemptive damage control.”
You collect your books, tucking them securely under your arm as you push the door open with a shoulder. The bell above jingles softly, the warm air of the shop giving way to the cool evening outside.
Naomi and Rachel trail behind you, already slipping back into conversation about plotlines and characters, their voices easy and familiar. Victoria nudges your arm again as you step off the curb.
“You’re not beating the allegations, by the way,” she whispers.
“I’m not entertaining them,” you shoot back.
“Too late for that.”
You roll your eyes, tightening your grip on your books as you head toward the car. For a moment, everything feels normal again, just a late evening, a bookstore run, your friends’ voices filling the space around you. But as you reach for the car door, something pulls at your attention. A feeling more than anything.
You glance back.
Through the bookstore window, between the tall shelves and soft lighting, you catch a glimpse of him.
Jimin.
Standing exactly where he'd left you. Already looking at you.
“YN?” Naomi calls, hand halfway to the rear passenger door.
“Yeah,” you answer quickly, tearing your gaze from the bookstore window and sliding into the passenger seat. “Coming.”
The door shuts, sealing you inside the quiet hum of the car as Victoria starts the engine.
Warm air, familiar voices. Normal.
Your eyes fix straight ahead as Victoria peels out of the parking lot. And pointedly do not look back again.
The apartment greets you with warmth the second you step inside.
It’s immediate, like crossing some invisible threshold. The soft hum of the heater, the faint scent of something Victoria must have sprayed earlier, the low glow of the lamp in the living room casting everything in a golden haze. It feels smaller than it did this morning. Safer.
“Shoes,” Naomi reminds gently, toeing hers off by the door.
“Right,” you nod, kicking yours off and nudging them into place with your heel.
Rachel disappears into the kitchen almost immediately, already rummaging through cabinets. Victoria follows, calling out something about snacks, and Naomi lingers just long enough to brush your arm lightly as she passes.
“You okay?” she asks, soft enough that it doesn’t carry over to eager ears.
You nod. “Just tired.”
She studies you for a half second longer, then smiles. “We’ll keep it lowkey tonight.”
“Please.”
The kitchen quickly fills with a clink of glasses and the rustle of packaging. By the time you drop your bag in your room and come back out, Rachel is already pouring wine into mismatched cups, her earlier edge softened.
“Study night,” she announces, like she’s hosting something official. “With benefits.”
“Benefits being?” Vic asks, grabbing a cup and raising a pointed brow.
“Alcohol,” Rachel smirks, sliding a cup your way from across the counter.
“Ah,” you hum, taking it. “Academic excellence.”
Naomi laughs, settling onto the couch with her books spread neatly in front of her. “If we fail, we can at least say we tried.”
“Speak for yourselves,” Rachel says, flopping onto the armchair. “I plan on passing and thriving.”
“You plan on gossiping,” Victoria corrects, dropping beside Naomi and cracking open her notebook.
“Multitasking,” Rachel shoots back.
You settle onto the floor with your back against the couch, your books fanned out in front of you, wine balanced carefully in your hand. The quiet that follows isn’t uncomfortable. It’s easy. Pages flipping, pens scratching, the occasional sigh or muttered complaint filling the space between sips.
For a while, it almost feels like nothing happened. Like the day didn’t stretch and twist in all the ways it had.
Naomi leans over at one point, pointing at something in your notes. “You missed this part,” she murmurs.
“Did I?” you frown, scooting closer.
“Yeah-- here,” she taps the page you’d been dead-eyeing in your textbook. “It connects to the next section you started on.”
“God, I’m blind,” you mutter, scribbling it down. “Thanks.”
“You’re distracted,” Vic says lightly, not even looking up from her own work.
“I’m not distracted,” you argue automatically.
Rachel snorts. You ignore her. Another stretch of quiet passes. Comfortable until it isn’t.
“So,” Rachel starts, far too casually.
You don’t look up. “No.”
“I didn’t even say anything yet.”
“You were going to,” you reply, flipping a page a little harder than necessary.
“I was just going to ask a question.”
“No.”
Victoria huffs out a laugh, shaking her head.
Naomi nudges Rachel lightly with her foot. “Maybe give it a rest?”
“I’m just curious,” Rachel insists, sitting forward. “You cannot expect me not to be when--”
“When what?” you snap, the words sharper than you meant for them to be.
The room stills.
Rachel blinks at you, clearly caught off guard.
You exhale through your nose, dragging a hand through your hair. “It’s nothing, Rachel. They’re just people. I had a couple of conversations today. That’s it.”
“That’s not how it looks,” she says, quieter now, but still pushing. “They don’t talk to anyone. Ever. And suddenly--”
“And suddenly what?” you cut in, heat rising in your chest before you can stop it. “They talk to me and it’s some big conspiracy? Maybe they’re just being nice. Maybe I’m just there.”
“That’s not what I--”
“I don’t know them,” you continue, the words coming faster now. “I don’t care if they’re hot or rich or whatever else you’re fixating on. It’s not a thing. There is no ‘thing.’ Can we please just drop it?”
Silence that weighs heavily this time consumes the small space in the living room.
Rachel’s mouth presses into a thin line. For a second, it looks like she might argue, push harder, dig deeper. She doesn’t.
“Fine,” she says instead, standing abruptly and grabbing her cup along with her notebook. “Didn’t realize it was that serious.”
Guilt flickers through you, quick and unwelcome.
“Rachel--”
“I’m going to bed,” she cuts you off, not unkindly, but not warmly either. “I’ve got an early morning.”
She disappears down the hall, her door clicking shut a moment later. The quiet that follows is different. Not comfortable. You stare down your notes, the words blurring slightly as your eyes sting.
“Hey,” Naomi says gently.
You swallow. “I didn’t mean to…” you trail off.
“She’ll be fine,” Victoria offers, softer than her usual tone. “You didn’t say anything wrong.”
“I kind of did,” you mutter.
“You kind of snapped,” Naomi corrects you. “There’s a difference.”
You huff out a breath, setting your pen down. “I just… don’t get why it matters so much.”
Victoria shrugs. “Because it’s weird. And people latch onto weird.”
Naomi tilts her head. “But that doesn’t mean you have to.”
You nod, even if the knot in your chest doesn’t fully loosen.
Victoria taps your shoulder. “You’re still coming Friday, right?”
“The party?” you groan.
“Yes, the party,” she grins. “Small house, college guys, questionable music choices. It’ll be fun.”
Naomi nods eagerly. “We’ll stick together the whole time. Promise.”
You hesitate for a second. Then sigh.
“Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Good,” Vic beams.
You glance between them, then add, “The Kims won’t be there, right?”
Vic laughs immediately. “God, no.”
Naomi shakes her head. “They don’t go to parties. Like, ever.”
“Seriously,” Vic adds. “I’ve never seen them at one. Not once.”
Something in your chest settles at that.
“Okay,” you murmur, “good.”
“Good?” Vic echoes, amused.
“Shut up,” you groan, but there’s no heat behind it this time.
Naomi smiles, gathering her things. “We should probably call it soon anyway. Early morning tomorrow for all of us.”
“Ugh,” Vic grumbles, finishing off her wine.
You clean up slowly, stacking your books, rinsing out your cup, moving through the motions on autopilot. The apartment quiets again as lights flick off one by one.
By the time you make it to your room, the world feels smaller again.
You change, plug your phone in, and slide beneath the covers after shelving your new books, the familiar weight of your blankets ground you.
The events of the day flicker behind your eyes… glances, voices, the feeling of being watched, of being known just a little too quickly.
You turn onto your side, pulling the blanket higher.
And eventually, with the soft hum of the apartment around you, sleep comes.
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