Summer PT -2

Jimin hummed along to the music that was playing from his Sony Walkman, softly wafting throughout his room. He stared out the window as he thought about the music he was transcribing, admiring the sunset. He sighed as a warm summer breeze drifted through the open window, feeling his sinuses with the scent of ripe peaches and grass and the distinct countryside smell. His bare foot rubbed up and down his leg as he wrote down some more music notes, making small notes on the tempo and dynamics of the piece.

He glanced behind him at the open door, knowing that just past that bathroom lay the man who made his heart skip a beat when they looked at each other. There was something about Yoongi that was curious to Jimin, and he was not sure what it was exactly. He had a whole different aura to Taehyung, who was the only other person Jimin had kissed and fooled around with. Where Taehyung was all sunshine and smiles, Yoongi seemed to be rainclouds and blank stares, which was alluring to Jimin, but was also scary. He did not know how Yoongi would react to certain things, or if he would even react at all. Jimin decided then that showering without locking the door would not be a good idea just in case he scares Yoongi off. He was intimidating.

A shrill bell tore Jimin from his thoughts. Jimin paused his music and set down his pencil, knowing that it was Mafalda letting him know dinner was ready. He pushed his chair back and padded into the bathroom, going into Yoongi’s bedroom. He repressed a fond smile when he was met with the sight of a sleeping Yoongi, the dim light of sunset creating pink hues over his bare pale skin. It was weird, as if he had never been in the sunlight. His back was quite toned. Jimin’s hands itched to trace over each dip and swell on his skin, memorising each and every muscle of his back.

Jimin cleared his throat and shook his head, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “We’re being called to dinner.” He watched Yoongi carefully to see if there was any movement or sign that he had heard him through his sleep. This man was a really heavy sleeper. Jimin wondered if he would ever be able to wake him up by himself without resorting to a horn or something loud like that. There was no movement or answer.

Jimin entered the room and reached over to the bookshelf. His fingers skimmed over the spines of the books lightly before selecting one that was quite thick. It would definitely pass the time. He was becoming slightly bored of his music transcription. He tried to be quiet, but Jimin being the butter fingers he was, dropped the book on the floor. It made a sharp clatter and Yoongi was briskly awoken.

Jimin cleared his throat again, waves of embarrassment flooding his body. “We’re being to called to dinner.” He said, his voice quiet.

Yoongi looked up from his pillow, seeming to forget where he was. His cat eyes were barely open and his cheeks were puffy due to his sleep. His bed head was also quite cute to Jimin, strands of hair pointing out in different directions.

“Later. I’ll have to pass.” Yoongi’s morning voice was something Jimin would not be able to get used to. It was deep and scratchy and slightly slurred and sluggish. “Can you make my excuses to your mother?” Jimin backed out of the door with his book clutched tightly in his hands, his small fingers and knuckles turning almost white, nodding that he would. Yoongi looked around for a moment. “So, this is usually your room…” He continued. Jimin nodded again, about to shut the door. “Thanks, buddy.” Yoongi turned and went back to sleep. Jimin closed the door, leaving the room in almost complete darkness.

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Yoongi stretched as he sat up in bed, the covers bunched around his waist. He was hot, even though the covers were thin. The Park villa was quaint. He liked the way it was contemporary and comfy and how he was able to feel completely at home even though he had only been here for a night.

He looked hopefully at the bathroom door, willing the young boy to come out from his room. Jimin was beautiful in a way that Yoongi thought should be illegal. The way the boy’s honey golden skin complimented his golden hair that had clearly been dyed – there were some darker roots showing through. When he realised that Jimin had already gone downstairs to join his family for breakfast, after he had glanced at the clock and saw that it was already past 9am.

As Yoongi walked down the stairs, he realised that he did not know where to go. He listened for the Park’s voices until he saw, through a corridor, the kitchen. Just beyond it, outside in the garden, he could see the family having breakfast.

The garden was fashioned around the gradual slope of a hill with a table and chairs set up on the flat part of patio that overlooked the orchards and gardens. It was beautiful.

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Jimin picked up one of the eggs that had been cooked for breakfast and carefully deposited it in his egg cup, knowing that Mafalda usually cooked them to be soft-boiled. Yoongi came out of the house and sat down, staring at the egg in front of him. Jimin watched him for a moment before turning his attention back to his own egg, expertly cracking the shell. He could feel a pair of eyes on him, watching what he was doing. He knew it was Yoongi – he probably did not know how to remove the shell.

Yoongi attempted to do what Jimin had done, but only a tiny bit of the shell was pierced. Jimin had to stifle a smile as he pretended to busy himself with his coffee and pushed the egg in its cup away. Mafalda came out from the kitchen carrying a jug of freshly squeezed juice, and asked Yoongi if he would like some, to which he obliged. She looked down at the discards egg.

“Lasci fare a me, Signore.” She sliced the top off from the egg and returned to her kitchen. Jimin looked back down to his egg before Yoongi caught him staring. That would be too awkward.

“Did you recover from your trip, caro?” Minjung asked.

Yoongi nodded. “Big time.”

Jimin, who had been trying not to stare at their guest and so was concentrating instead on spreading honey on a piece of bread, lifted his head. “I can show you around.” He said, his voice growing unnaturally loud. He flushed red, feeling slightly embarrassed. That was too loud.

Yoongi smiled fondly, his eyes gentle. “Good. Are we far from the town? I need to open a bank account.” Jimin’s parents both looked up, interested.

Jaehyun smiled. “None of our residents has ever had a local bank account.” He looked proud, as if Yoongi was the first one who was actually really happy to be here and cared enough about what he was doing.

Jimin turned in his seat to get a better view of Yoongi, who was sat beside him. “Should I take him to Montodine?” He asked.

Jaehyun shook his head. “I think they’re closed for summer vacation. Try Crema.” He suggested. Jimin nodded and took a bite of his honeyed bread.

Yoongi looked around, eyes fixating on the fruit trees in front of him. “Is that your orchard?” He asked.

“Pesca, ciliege, albicocche…” Jaehyun started to list off. The peaches, cherries and apricots were some of Jimin’s favourites that grew in their orchard and Jaehyung knew it. He smiled at his son, who was subconsciously licking his lips.

“Pomegranate.” Minjung added, making Jimin wrinkle his nose. He did not like pomegranate. There were too many seeds.

Mafalda returned with a pitcher of apricot juice on a little tray and proceeded to fill Yoongi’s glass. He tasted it then enthusiastically downed it. Jimin realised he was staring at Yoongi, his head tipped back with his throat swallowing the juice, and noticed the Star of David on a necklace around his neck. He lowered his eyes.

“Have another egg.” Minjung gestured to the basket of eggs in front of them, but Yoongi shook his head.

“I know myself. If I have three, I’ll have a fourth, and more.”

Jimin had never heard someone Yoongi’s age say, ‘I know myself’. He found it somewhat intimidating. He cleared his throat. “Should we take Jungsik’s bikes?”

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