Chapter 5; Purple Water

Lines like many many tiny scars...

───── ❝ do haru ❞ ───── 

Wednesday, 25th of January, 2022

The day had gone by typically. It was just another lonely Wednesday. Haru, Yoongi and Jimin shared only one class that day: art.

The dearth of will to be around people and finding herself anywhere but home haunted Haru from time to time. Being unable to control her negative thoughts and just having to cover them up with a smile was no fun, but what else could the girl do? Tell everyone she had a disorder? That sometimes she ran off to the bathroom because she was triggered by"trivial" things? 

She was feeling like that, on this Wednesday of January, she really wasn't feeling any relief whenever a class came to an end like she usually did. But then came art; something that she had been anticipating all day long. Like a high school girl waiting for the prom night.

She brushed her thoughts aside and took a seat in the art classroom. Yes, classroom—not lesson hall. Because people had a choice between art and other subjects, the classes were way smaller. Art was a "minor" subject so a lecture hall was unnecessary.

Jimin who was returning from his Latin Language class, soon came into Haru's sight, making her heart's speed accelerate. Yoongi sent her a wink, tee-heeing fondly as she cringed. What she didn't notice though, was the slight glint of sadness enshrouded somewhere deep in his dark orbs. A glint that was buried so deep, even Yoongi himself was oblivious of its existence.

'Jimin! Jimin!' Haru called the blonde-haired guy who cluelessly stepped into the semi-empty art classroom. He turned his head towards the caller of his name, beaming instantly at the dainty sight of Haru waving her hand at him. Sometimes he wondered how could a girl that wore only black clothes and bad-ass boots be that cute.

But oh well...

She patted the empty seat beside her and said, 'Can you sit with me today?' 

A hint of hope and nervousness lingered in her eyes, and Jimin couldn't help but snicker at how obvious she was being. Wordlessly, he approached her and sat down. 'God, sometimes I just want to squish your cheeks.' Jimin giggled, burying his forehead into the palm of his hand which was drowning in his white, oversized hoodie.

One thing that Haru had taken note of was that Jimin often wore white, oversized hoodies. If not that, then his outfit would have at least one white item. It might have sounded like a silly observation, but she was sure it was accurate.

Maybe it was just his favourite colour...

'Don't say that!' Haru squeaked, punching Jimin's shoulder gently. 'By the way, I noticed you always have at least one white item on you every day. I hope it doesn't sound weird, but do you do it on purpose or just because you like white a lot?' she inquired, looking down in embarrassment after admitting to having paid attention to such details about him. 

It might have been a bizarre question, but in reality, Haru was just very interested in fashion. That was one of the reasons why she attended Seoul University. Even though the school provided courses like math, chemistry, Korean, English and etc, they also taught specific subjects for specific jobs.

Haru's goal was, in fact, to become a clothing designer, meanwhile, Yoongi wished to be a producer. And from what Jimin had told Haru and her best friend, he was taking psychology courses. She thought it was strange because the boy was so lively, he looked like someone who'd go for a more entertaining job.

'White...' he mumbled, 'so you noticed, huh?' Jimin chuckled breathily as he pulled his chin towards his chest, observing the tiny lines on the wooden desk. He stayed quiet, trailing off. 

Lines... like scars... 

Like many many scars.

Like many many tiny scars.

Lines like many many tiny scars.

'Jimin, are you okay? Did my question upset you?' Haru asked agitatedly, she wouldn't ever forgive herself if she had upset him. The girl was literally on the verge of panicking because she was the first to understand when someone unintentionally triggered you.

Jimin shot his head up, his eyes widening in realisation; he had trailed off once again. 

'No, no, no. Don't worry,' he reassured her with a kind smile. 'White means purity and innocence. It reminds me of angels too, and I like them. Don't ask me why.' Jimin tittered as Haru's jaw dropped. She was stunned by the—ironically—purity and innocence of the man before her. No wonder he liked angels, he was one himself.

But white means isolated too, like me.

White means bland, like me.

White means cold, like me.

'That's lovely. I think it suits you!' Haru's eyes turned into crescents and for a moment, Jimin saw himself in her. The brilliant smile he'd give everyone and anyone. The bright smile that was adored by everyone and anyone. 

'Then what about you? Why do you always wear black?'

'Oh,' she chimed, almost as if she didn't expect such a question to leave Jimin's lips. 'Well, I just like it. Black means power and elegance, mystery too. I think it suits me,' explained Haru, patting her beloved leather jacket playfully. Yoongi always used to ask how was she planning to be a clothing designer when everything she wore was black.

'Oh, yeah, I do think it suits you. Honestly, I like your style. The turtle neck combined with the leather jacket, boots and leggings give a subtle vibe of neatness, of sophistication. The difference in texture between the cotton leggings, woollen turtleneck and leather jacket, leave a nice contrast. Also, the heels on your boots donate height, only highlighting the goodness of your figure. The overall fit looks simple, yet classy.'

But black also means aggression.

Black means death too.

Black means fear.

'Jimin!' Haru wowed, feeling genuinely stunned by the man's disarming words. 'You said you wanted to study psychology, not poetry,' she added, making Jimin crack a crow. 'Thanks though. Those sounded like frank words of observance and sincerity.'

'No problem, and as you said, I was being sincere indeed.' Jimin turned to face the front after hearing the professor step inside the classroom. Haru grinned so foolishly that anyone could tell she was smitten by the angel sitting beside her.

'Good morning, class,' Mr Baek greeted his students almost perfunctorily. For a supposedly artsy man, Mr Baek was a little too serious. His suits were always dull, usually brown, black, dark blue or grey in their colour.

That day, he was wearing one of his grey suits combined with a grey tie of a slightly darker tone. His appearance was soft, dour and neat all at once. He left the impression of a lazy person who somehow did everything perfectly. 

'For students like you, art isn't an important subject. Most of you don't even care about your grades for this class, but if you chose this class you either somewhat like art, have it as your hobby or simply thought it was the best option out of the minor classes you could pick from.'

Since he was resting against his wooden desk, he stood up and paced around aimlessly. 'Allow me to be honest, I didn't prepare a lesson. This class is plastered with carelessness and I only contributed to that. My apologies,' stated somewhat insincerely Mr Baek.

His eyebrows were knotted into a haughty frown as his eyes shone a light of lifelessness (notice the irony). 'What I am trying to say is that today you are free to paint anything you like. Only painting though.'

And just like that the students were "dismissed", some into a world of weariness, others into a world of pure bliss and the rest into discombobulation. The class was oddly quiet, filled with tranquillity as only slight whispers and sounds of pencils or brushes moving against canvas were audible.

Haru scrunched her nose, inhaling heavily. She liked art, maybe even loved art since she was passionate about designing. Although painting was different, it still included drawing. However, in that very instant she felt unsure, idealess.

Curiously, the girl turned to look at Jimin's canvas. The traces of his pencil were very light, yet he rarely seemed to need an eraser. And even though Haru would have liked to spy on his work some more, she couldn't help it. She couldn't stop her eyes from trailing to her deskmate's side profile. 

Once again, his eyes were filled with that weird light—a very sinister and indecipherable light. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, what he was drawing, and even why he was drawing it. That day Haru discovered that Park Jimin while reaching the peak of concentration, was even more ravishing. 

'You always look at me like that.' Jimin pulled away from the canvas, never allowing his gaze to land on Haru's surprised one. The corners of Jimin's lips stretched upwards in the smallest movement ever. 

'Do you know?' he began vaguely, reaching for a brush before dipping it gently into a measly dark blue pool of dense paint. 'The night sky is way more fascinating than the morning sky to me. I find the sun and clouds uninteresting compared to the moon and stars.' he suddenly looked Haru in the eye, making her flinch.

'Y-yeah, you are right. I feel like many people think that way, that is including myself. But why would bring that up right now? Is it because of what you are going to draw?'

'That's right.' he nodded. 'I am sorry if that sounded kind of random, sometimes I like to jot down some free verse poetry, so you weren't entirely wrong earlier.' Jimin sniggered, covering his lips with his hand cutely.

If Haru were shameless or whatever adjective would be good to describe it, she'd pull Jimin into an extremely tight hug. But she wasn't, and thus, didn't dare to get closer to him. 

'Ah-ha! I knew it!' Haru exclaimed victoriously, not raising her voice too much. 'And it's okay, it was random but not a bad random, you know?' she chuckled sheepishly before slumping in her chair. 'But ugh—' she groaned, '—I just don't know what to paint...'

'I don't know. You need to feel it. Draw something that you want to draw,' Jimin encouraged as he continued to dip his brush into the night-like hue of blue. It was honestly an almost detestable colour.

The shade seemed like a rare type, nothing someone would wear, nothing someone would use to describe something as mystical as the night sky. You could even call it dull-ish in its appearance like a pair of old and overused leggings that had completely been drained of their original tint. All that was left from it was that shade of blue, one of oldness, apathy and sadness. 

'Mh... maybe some idea will pop up if you tell me why are you choosing such a weird shade of blue.' Haru shrugged cheekily, leaning closer to Jimin so she could admire his not-yet-finished drawing. Jimin's eyes automatically shut into a happy line, a huge smile coating his face as a loud chortle left his mouth.

She looked down in embarrassment, not being able to stop thinking about how delightful a simple laugh of his sounded.

'You'll see, Haru, you'll see,' he whispered, instantly going back to finish the ether of his artwork. 'How about you draw a landscape? That's pretty much what I am are doing. Or how about you do what you are good at?' Jimin turned to look at her, proudness displayed in his overall expression. 'Why don't you paint an outfit?'

Haru's eyes widened as she let out a small gasp. If she wasn't thinking straight, she would've thrown herself onto Jimin and engulfed him into the longest hug ever; maybe even longer than the ones she gave to Yoongi in order to goad him. 

'Thank you! God, you are a genius, Jimin!' Haru stood up, immediately grabbing all the paint that she needed. Her mind was finally overflowing with ideas as she began to swiftly drag the tip of the stereotypical yellow-and-black-coloured pencil along her canvas.

'No problem,' he replied, smiling only a little bit as he finished up with the blue paint. He switched shades to a dark drown. A brown that people would call "disgusting"—like that uncanny blue—because it resembled mud. The shade was almost black, but it held this dirt-like feeling that would make a sense of revulsion build up in anybody's throat. 

Nevertheless, Jimin's brush uncaringly swayed and danced on the canvas. Slowly but surely, the landscape he had in mind began to form more and more clearly. 

Meanwhile, Haru had only just finished her sketch. Usually, she would draw something swarthy and complex. Something that would express obstruct ideas about the pang of repentance that constantly appears in her chest. Notwithstanding, for once she wanted to draw something simple that doesn't touch on the complexities in her head. 

The girl's face was not included in the sketch, so the drawing started from her neck, showing prominent collarbones. The drawing stopped right at the beginning of her thighs. The girl's posture was hard to unravel; her pelvis was pushed slightly forward as her upper body leant back and her hands were intertwined behind her back. Therefore, invisible to whoever wasn't the artist of the painting. The strangest thing though was that Haru had decided to make the painting completely purple.

She liked purple —well, depending on the type of shade. When she was younger, and her parents wouldn't let her wear too much black because it was "monotonous" (as they called it), she mostly wore purple. When most girls would wear pink, she'd always pick purple. But of course, as soon as she became older she commenced to "delete" more colours from her outfits. 

Jimin peeked at Haru's painting. She was already starting to run her soft brush against the surface of the canvas. He noticed that she was painting the background the first in a quite bright shade of lilac. However, as he watched and watched her, he noticed she wasn't planning on using any other colour. 

Interesting... purple.

The colour of royalty, wisdom, creativity.

However, also a colour that can bring the meaning of

frustration, irritation, impatience and gloominess. 

Soon, Jimin leaned back in his chair, admiring his artwork. It wasn't about the artwork's splendour or its lawlessness that Jimin found pride in, but about its content. An unfrequented forest with a sphinxlike sky. The lack of stars, which were replaced by furious, grey clouds, donated melancholy. Only the moon was present and yet, she¹ too was miserable as she lacked her typical brilliancy. The moonlight was faint, barely visible as it only rained upon a few trees, illuminating some of their leaves. 

The overall picture depicted stolidity and effortlessness but not in the actual work, just in its vibe. Nonetheless, a wicked glint hid beneath the mask of indifference. 

'What do you think about it, Haru?' Jimin grabbed his canvas and moved it closer to the girl. 

Slowly, her eyes landed on his artwork. Instantly, all her excitement was gone. Her breath became heavier and quicker as a lump accumulated in her throat. Mist settled in her eyes, her view foggy. It really felt like someone was strangling her, she just wanted to scream but knew better than to do anything abnormal. 

'Do you not like it?' Jimin pouted, a boyish frown making its way on his forehead. He began turning the canvas away from her, but she quickly placed her hand on top of his to stop him. Clutching onto her shirt, around her chest area with one hand, she wanted to beseech him to destroy the painting, annihilate it from the surface of Earth.

But instead, Haru forced a smile. A smile so fake, she felt like a marionette. 

Despite the sudden outburst of fear, the moment her pale skin made contact with Jimin's warm hand, she couldn't help the frisson that ran down her spine. Her face softened instantly, forgetting that her hand was still on his, forgetting about the nightmare she almost relived right then and there; in her art classroom; in front of her teacher, peers and crush. 

Haru noticed the concern plastered over Jimin's usually content face which made her snap out of her reverie. 'No, I like it. It's quite interesting. It just reminded me of something... something really bad.'

'What is it?' Jimin asked uncertainly but she just shrugged it off, so Jimin didn't press any further. 'I am sorry about that.' he looked down, fiddling with his fingers. 'How about you? Will you show me yours?'

Haru's sincere grin instantly returned after hearing his question. She grabbed her canvas and brought it closer. 

'Oh, this an interesting style. I like it!' Jimin beamed, his eyes observing the drawing thoroughly. Without him even noticing, his eyes trailed to the transparent cup that Haru had used for her paint, it was all purple.

Purple water...

Jimin chuckled at his childish thoughts. And that was the exact moment that the bell rang, allowing the students to go back to the comfort of their homes. 

↳ TO BE CONTINUED... ❞

Author-nim's note:

She¹= used as a personification for the "moon", giving it (her) the quality of a female. Also, will you please let me know if my paragraphs are too long? Because I know it's annoying, but wtf is wrong with Wattshit? The paragraphs look different from when I write after being published, so yeah :") let me know! 

Published date: 29/07/2021.

Word count: 2,870.

—jiminandhisjams