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21
One More Minute

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TAEHYUNG

"Because you're the girl I like."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel the urge to puke, cry, and pass out, all meshed together.

Jisoo is completely frozen.

Well, shit. She likes someone else, and I just pushed my feelings on her while we have to spend the night together. Did I mess it up? It's hard to swallow my spit as I gauge her reaction.

"I mean, I'm sorry. I know you like someone else. You can forget what I said." I run a hand through my hair and decide that the floor is a lot more interesting to look at. "I can leave, if you want me to. I'll figure something out for tonight, don't worry. Especially if you're uncomfortable--"

She pecks my cheek.

The kiss itself is ephemeral, but the tingle of her lips on my skin lingers along with the way my stomach drops.

"The person I like..." Jisoo starts, shifting weight from foot to foot. "is you."

I can't form proper words anymore, only mustering a pathetic, "eh?" as I open and close my mouth like a fish. My heart goes haywire along with the rest of my senses.

Then that other guy--was he also me? Or was she talking about someone else? Everything and nothing seems to make sense anymore. My stomach drops as I search for words to say, but it comes out more like a squeak.

"Do y-you really mean that?"

She nods.

It's adorable because her flustered face and burning ears are indication of how much courage it takes for her to do this. I find it in myself to take a few more steps forward.

"Like, this isn't a joke? You really like me?" I ask, though I'm starting to believe it now with how nervous she looks.

She nods again.

I swallow thickly. There's no way. She can't be serious. Is she?

"Can you say it one more time?"

Her head shoots up, dangerously close to mine, and her eyes sparkle with determination. She's still beet red, though. The combination of confidence and embarrassment is thrilling.

"I like you."

The dulcet tone of her breathless voice sends shivers down my spine. She means it.

"Me too," I finally say. "Like you, I mean. Not me. Well, I like myself too, I guess, but... yeah." I stop myself from rambling.

And then it arrives.

The painful, awkward silence that is associated with every post-confession scene--though movies skip it and head straight to the kissing, which I don't feel so confident about initiating right now.

"So... what now?" I offer, clenching my buttcheeks to calm down my nerves.

She likes me, she likes me, she likes me. Holy shit.

Jisoo jerks up, like she was lost in thought.

"I-I'm going to uh," she starts, "I'm going to take a shower--so I can V ready for bed." She stubs her toe onto the coffee table, muttering a series of curses before jolting up straight again.

"Are you alright?" I approach her, but she frantically steps away.

"BE! So I can be ready for bed!"

After almost tumbling over her couch, Jisoo disappears into her bathroom, the lock clicking once she's inside.

Once she's gone, I place a hand over my chest, feeling the erratic thumping of it against my palm. I'm beyond happy; every cell in my body is burning with felicity, and my cheeks start to hurt from how hard I grin.

Since she's not here right now, I do a fistbump into the air and twirl around. I kick, punch, and jump up and down all about the living room before whisper-yelling: "Fuck yeah!"

Aside from giddiness, anxiousness settles into my gut at the thought of spending the night here. I'm not expecting anything to happen, but I'm also wary. What should I say when she comes out? Should I ask her to be my... girlfriend?

Just that word alone excites the goosebumps on my skin.

I slap myself on the cheek. Stop smiling like an idiot.

Shaking my head, I take it upon myself to look around. The past few times I was here, I was too immersed in either the project or her to absorb the details of the complex. It's minimal, with little to no decoration. I remember this one picture of her and Jungkook catching my eye. It looks lonely, hanging on a plain white wall by itself.

I trace my finger over the frame delicately. Jisoo is aggressively eating a corndog, crouched on the ground and looking adorable while Jungkook is crying from behind her, hands outreached, trying to snatch the corndog from Jisoo's stubborn hold. Even if I were an outsider, I'd be able to tell in an instant that these two are siblings.

With Namjoon and I, it's not as obvious.

Physically, we have just enough similarities for people to maybe guess that we're related. However, our vibes are completely different. The way he acts is predictable, yet mysterious.

I can never know what he's really thinking.

He's composed, put together, and the epitome of an independent adult. He never shows too little emotion or too much; it's like he's perfect at giving the appropriate response in any situation.

I, on the other hand, am anything but that. I'm rarely confident when it comes to my future, and there's not a day that goes by where I'm not a mess, sleeping in class, fumbling over my words, and nowhere near as laudable as him.

I put the small picture back onto the wall, sighing heavily to get rid of those thoughts.

Instead, my eyes fall on a peach colored surface sitting on the coffee table.

It's her suturing kit. If I didn't know better, I'd probably scream at the sight of a chunk of silicone skin with dark threads and shiny needles lodged within its cuts. Jisoo and Namjoon would get along; she'd love to hear all of his wild ER stories(much more than me, at least).

I approach the daunting object carefully, which doesn't make sense because it's not like it's going to jump at me or something; it's just a piece of silicone. If I want to become anything in the medical field like Namjoon, I'll have to get used to seeing stuff like this.

Shutting my eyes, I poke the squishy contraption.

A scoff from my right has me pulling away immediately, though.

"Seriously? You have to close your eyes to touch it?" Jisoo laughs. "It's not gonna bite you."

She's in her pajamas: a light pink onesie with a white oval across the middle, and I think it's supposed to replicate a bunny. It's so cute that it hurts. Her freshly washed face is glowing with what I assume to be either her natural beauty or skincare products; it's probably the former.

I'd think that Jisoo would be embarrassed to be seen in such attire, but it strikes me that she probably doesn't even know that pink bunny onesies aren't the norm. It makes her even cuter.

"Suturing is actually pretty fun once you get the hang of it. I promise it isn't scary," she says, grabbing the object and sitting down. "You wanna try?"

She's casually asking me to suture with her only fifteen minutes after we've confessed our crushes on each other, and I'm not sure if I've unclenched my buttocks in the past twenty seconds that she's been present.

"Sure," I say, much more confidently than I feel.

Her eyes light up, excited to be showing off her skills. This is one of the moments where she gets so happy about something that she forgets to be shy about it, or anything else that happened earlier.

"So firstly," she starts, pulling out a fresh slab of silicone to work with from the depths of the box. "You'd have to disinfect the area and stuff, but let's pretend we already did that."

She pulls out a thin, C-shaped needle and hands it to me. If this were real life, I would pass out from just seeing cut skin.

"Thanks," I mumble, fighting the heat rising to my cheeks.

"This is the simple way to do it." She takes a needle of her own and pulls it out of the small compartment, revealing the thin thread that follows after the tip of it. "The thread is already attached to the needle, so we can start suturing."

The silicone slab she uses is fresh; there are no threads in the middle where the largest wound is. She delicately holds a pair of forceps in one hand, and the needle in the other.

"You see this yellow stuff?" She points to the tinted layer with her forceps. "That's fat. We don't want to penetrate too deeply into it, but we can hit it a little." In a smooth manner, she pierces through the surface with the needle and pulls it out on the other side, weaving in and out of the fake skin until there are a few solid stitches.

"Woah," I let out. What was once intimidating to me is now a fascinating procedure. She makes it look effortless.

"Try it." She urges with a smile on her face.

Gulping, I test it out by plunging the needle into the surface, but stop when her hands are suddenly on mine.

"Hold on," she chuckles, "You're going to make a whole new wound if you do that." She takes the needle out and directs my hands in a different position. "Don't rush it."

Fighting my blush is impossible at this point. The feeling of her hands on mine sends a flurry of weightlessness in my stomach.

At this point, she's practically the one doing all the work, firmly guiding my hands to finish the stitch as she leans over the table. She may not even notice how the intimate contact is since she's so concentrated.

"You'll make a really good heart surgeon."

The random comment seems to nudge Jisoo into the realization of how her hands are tightly wrapped around mine, and she jerks away.

"Oh, um, thanks." She moves away. "You too," she adds as an afterthought.

"Nah, I wouldn't." I don't mean to sound depressing, but somehow my words leave my mouth more defeatedly than I would've liked. "You heard my dad."

She straightens up, a stern look on her face. "Don't listen to him. You don't even have to go to the medical field or whatever. Do what you want to do."

It's nearing midnight now, the clock ticking on the wall being my current focus of vision. I don't want to look at her when I feel so... useless. My dad not only humiliated me in front of the girl that I like, but he said things that were true. If he said random shit, then I probably wouldn't have cared as much.

"But he's right. I can't even choose a favorite song, how am I supposed to choose a career?" I attempt to make things humorous, to bring back the pink atmosphere we had earlier in front of her door, but it's useless.

"Taehyung," she starts, and I can't help but wonder how her merely saying my name causes my heart to flutter. "I'm being serious."

"Me too." It's hard to take her seriously in that pink onesie, but I keep that fact to myself. She's caring for me, and I'm beyond grateful. "I just don't think the things that I like can build me a career."

"What do you like?" She leans onto the table with genuine curiosity. "I'm sure there's something we can work with."

Her eagerness is evident on her face, and I can't find it in myself to avoid the topic any longer. Maybe this is better than the awkwardness we had post-confession. My mind is still reeling at that and talking about something else may ease my nerves.

"I like comics," I relent. "Video games, eating - I've started learning how to cook recently - playing with my younger cousins and with animals, and..." - you - "That's it."

I watch intently for her reaction, slightly regretting not saying the last part but, what can I say? I'm nervous.

She ponders for a moment, leaning back in her chair and pursing her lips together. Suddenly, she snaps up with a grin, as if she just found the solution to world hunger.

"A dad."

Her breathlessness and shining eyes makes her look like a puppy. I'm still confused; why is she so excited?

"A dad? That's not a job, though."

Jisoo frowns. "Yes it is." In a way that should be illegal, she pouts. "A stay-at-home dad. You like kids, video games, and cooking; it's perfect for you."

A stubborn stare tugs at her eyebrows and I find myself gulping at how firm she is. I can actually see myself doing that in the future, but it doesn't make money. It won't make my parents proud.

But then again, do I even need their approval? I'm in control of my life, and I get to do what I want. She's told me before that I don't have to have a clear goal or passion in life; I just have to be happy. If that means hanging out at home and taking care of my future kids... then yeah. I'll do that. I want that.

She's right.

"You don't have to do that, or whatever. I'm just putting it out there because your vision is so limited." She seems to notice how silent I've been, likely getting bashful.

"Thank you."

Being with her always makes me realize things I've never known before. I feel safe.

"You're welcome," she mumbles, unsure what to do with the strangely pink atmosphere around us.

"So you think I'll make a good dad?" I tease, hoping to ease the tension.

The reaction is immediate; with wide eyes, she hurries to deny.

"I mean, yes, but like, not in the way where you'd be the father to my-" she cuts herself off, searching for the correct words. "Just - I don't, ugh nevermind."

Usually, I'm the one ruddy red and rambling in these situations, so seeing her all tongue tied ignites a hearty laugh of endearment. It's funny how easily I can make her like this now that I know that she likes me. I keep repeating that in my head like a mantra, she likes me.

"I'm joking," I chuckle, deciding to have mercy on her. "I really mean it, though. Thank you. I never even considered doing that." Before I know it, I'm becoming vulnerable again. "It's like, I've always seen myself as some pretty little mold that my parents sculpted, something that they can show off with designer clothes and good grades."

"But you're more than that."

"I hope so." I sigh. "But sometimes, I don't even know if I can see myself as anything other than what my parents made of me."

"Then I will," she says, firm, and with eyes boring into mine. "I'd love to get to know you under the designer clothes."

Her statement almost seems to echo in the room. I don't reply immediately, still going over her words to make sure that I'm not going insane. Am I hearing correctly?

She screeches. "NO! I meant, I'd like to get to know you like, personally," she clarifies frantically. "Not under your clothes but inside yo- what?"

I wheeze hysterically, clutching onto my stomach and flopping onto the table from how hard it is to breathe. Jisoo has been acting really fidgety since we were at the ice cream shop, and while I have no idea how the sudden change happened, I'm not complaining. It's like we reversed roles, and I'm so here for it.

"Ewww, Jisoo," I scrunch up my nose in mock distaste. "I didn't know you were so lewd."

"Shut up," she groans, burying her face in her hands and resting on the table.

"First you say I'll make a good dad, and then you talk about wanting to get under my clothes?" I'm having too much fun. "Seems pretty suspicious to me, Jisoo."

"I already told you, didn't I?" She remains glued to the surface of the table, suturing kit in between me and her resting head. "I like you."

The air is knocked out of my lungs.

That's the last thing I expect to hear from her, especially when she's already embarrassed, and her looking up to me with those wide, starry eyes just makes it ten times worse. I cough and lean back, avoiding her gaze. "Oh... right," I say lamely.

She smiles warily. "I thought about this a lot and... can I have some more time to think about it?" Meekly, she starts playing with her fingers, now sitting up straight. "I'm barely ready to have friends and -- I guess I need time to sort things out."

I almost want to laugh. "Of course you can. I'll wait for an eternity if I have to."

Yeah, it's a cheesy line, but it's true. I don't mind waiting for her at all.

"Really?" Her eyes glow with disbelief.

I nod, fighting the urge to chuckle. "Really."

Jisoo sighs, shoulders sagging in relief. "Thank you."

Pink. Everything is pink. Her onesie, her cheeks, my cheeks, and the air around us. It's pink and fuzzy and warm and -- I don't know what to do about it because it isn't awkward, but we both don't know what to say.

"Well, um," she says abruptly, standing up from her seat. "I can get you a change of clothes? I mean, you're staying here tonight, so..."

"Yes!" It's hard to ignore the pounding of my heart when I'm following a pink onesie donning Jisoo to what I think is her room.

It's neat, minimal as I would've guessed, but still gives a cozy, lived-in feel from the little details; the opened biology textbooks on her bedside table, lightly ruffled pillows at the top of her bed, and the scruffed up school jacket draped over her chair.

She ducks into a walk-in closet of some sorts, and I don't dare to follow her into that enclosed space.

Breathe, I'm just in Kim Jisoo's room. Nothing's special. Don't overthink it -- in fact, think about something else altogether. I swallow the trepidation in my throat and take my mind to bunnies, because bunnies are cool and a good distraction for the state of haywire my thoughts in.

"I only have Jungkook's old sweatshirt and sweatpants, but it might be a little small. Is that okay?"

"I like bunnies!"

Mortified, I hurry to restate myself when Jisoo dutifully nods and reaches inside the closet again.

"Oh wow, I guess this works out nicely. I didn't know if you'd want to wear this, but the matching set for these pajamas are actually bigger so they'd fit you better." She hands me a hanger with a bright pink matching onesie, one that does, indeed, seem to be my size.

I'll just pretend that I didn't just say something embarrassing.

"Thank you," I mumble.

"You can change and wash up over there," she says, motioning towards the bathroom through the walk-in closet. "I'll take the couch; you can take the bed."

With the all too sure statement, she walks out of the room, and I find it in myself to call out, "Wait!" As she whips around with those far too innocent eyes, I clutch onto the fuzzy material tighter. "You take the bed. I'll take the couch."

She shakes her head. "Nope. You're the guest, and I'm the host. I'll sleep on the couch and that's final."

"But I wasn't even supposed to be here!" It doesn't feel right to have her being the one uncomfortable on her tiny couch tonight. "If you take the couch, I'll sleep on the floor, then."

We stare at each other for a good moment, both of us too stubborn to say something. A lone thought lingers at the back of my head: what if we slept on the same bed? But no. That's impossible and unnecessary. She probably wouldn't even agree to it.

"Fine," she relents. "I'll take the bed." With tiny steps, she makes her way to the bed and slips under the covers, completely burying herself until only her head pokes out. "You better not sleep on the floor."

I sigh in relief. "I won't."

The feeling I get as I bounce into her bathroom is strangely domestic. I can get used to this. We're actually sleeping under the same roof and the thought of that not only excites me, but it also sends a wave of longing. I want this to happen more.

The onesie fits well. If anyone from school saw me, I'd likely become the hot topic on school news. I look ridiculous, like a soggy, pale pink highlighter -- but a cute one. I almost wish that Jisoo is still awake, because seeing us in matching pajamas will actually become the most memorable part of my lifetime.

But to my disappointment, she's already sound asleep when I leave the walk-in closet. She sleeps like a child.

The blankets are kicked around and her mouth is left slightly open. Wisps of hair fly out in random directions, looking like an absolute mess despite it only being a few minutes since she's fallen into slumber.

It's adorable.

I feel so wrong as I inch towards her to get a better look, but I can't help myself. With the lights turned off, it's harder to find the outlines of her face; they blur together in a way that paints the image of an alluring black and white oil painting. I sit down at the edge of the bed, promising myself that I'll hurry to the couch in a minute.

She snores loudly, turning around and dragging a huge portion of the blankets with her. I try not to chuckle.

Maybe just a minute more.

One more minute...

Author's Note:

hey...! how y'all doing...?
hdjsjsjs i'm SO sorry about how late this is T^T i hope the 3.7k chapter makes up for it. writers block + figuring out how to describe suturing is hard :c

shoutout to a MLB comic dub i found on youtube for giving me inspiration to write this again :,) the next chap will be all in jisoo's pov btw!

thank u so much for reading! i love you hearts

<3 lalalalala7fire