•———————•

But I guess sometimes I do indulge in his beauty.

•———————•

"I love you," she said to me as she stood by my door.

"What do you want?" I sighed as I turned to face my mum, she grinned widely as she passed me a list, a long list if I may add, and some money.

"Go get some groceries from the store, or else I'm making pork cutlets for dinner tonight, without the pork," she smiled as I stood up and went over to scan the list quickly.

"Why do you need 8 bottles of maple syrup and 5 cans of whipped cream?" I asked as I deadpanned.

"Your dad has a sweet tooth," she laughed, looking every bit young as her hair bounced above her shoulders.

Then she winked and I got what she meant.

"Ew, don't tell me about your kinks," a chill went down my spine as I grabbed the nearest jacket I had: a black jacket that was as soft as wool mixed with fluffy clouds.

I left the house quietly, shuffling my hands in the pockets of the jacket and digging for every bit of warmth I could find.

I reached the store, letting the cool air from the conditioner kiss my warm cheeks.

I've always liked going to the grocery story. There's just something so vibrant yet so ordinary about it that makes me want to visit the store over and over again.

There's also that quivering hope in me, that I could meet anyone I knew with just a turn of a cart, like the cute guy from Class 3A, or the quirky girl from 3D.

The cart vibrated as it moved across the vanilla white tiles on the floor, its metal frame shook every time I threw something into it.

"Ey, it's you," a cheerful voice said by my side as I contemplated on the different brands of maple syrup. I turned my head, and my eyes met a pair of alluring black ones.

I'd recognise those anywhere.

Jimin grinned, not noticing that my grip tightened on the handle of the shopping cart.

"Hey," I greeted as I shuffled myself away from him, "what are you doing here?"

"Well if it's not obvious enough, I'm working," he gestured to his navy blue collar tee with the small imprint of the store's logo on the left side of his chest.

"Ah," I said quickly.

"You know, what you did this morning to Hoseok and Jungkook was commendable," he smiled smugly as he crossed his toned arms, the outline of his muscles shaping them almost too perfectly.

"They both deserve some sense being hit into their head," he said lowly, his eyes turning slightly dark as the shadows from his fringe sheltered them.

There was something about his tone that made me feel uneasy, it was as if Hoseok and Jungkook were his disobedient dolls who needed punishment.

Jimin is terrifying, as I've said before.

If he was a boy who had creepy puppets that moved to sneak up on him at night, he wouldn't run like any normal kid.

He would hold the puppet by its finger, stare straight into its beady eyes and then snap its neck slowly. He would break each and every joint of the puppet as it cried out for mercy and he gave none.

My muscles stiffened as I watched him for the next few seconds, my jaw tightened as I tried my best to force a few words out to escape the scene.

"But hey you did well by putting them into place," he chuckled lightly, which scared me even more as I could feel the warm vibrations sift through the air.

"I'm a class monitor, it was my job—"

"No, that's just bullshit if you believe you did it for your job," Jimin grinned, and it was the most uneasy yet perfect grin I've ever seen. I became as cold as a statue left untouched for centuries.

"It's confidence," he hit me lightly me on my upper arm once, as if praising me.

I didn't feel happy, nor comforted.

I felt disgusted, that he was praising me as if I was like him. I didn't want to be near him at all, being praised by your enemy is one thing, to be praised by your worst fear, is another thing entirely.

"Thanks," I managed to force out a soft whimper as he chuckled and disappeared behind the tall shelves.

•———————•