Chapter Text
October never eased into things gently at their university.
It didn’t knock. It didn’t wait.
It just *showed up* with colder mornings, overflowing cafeteria queues, people pretending they had already “fallen behind” in assignments they hadn’t even received yet.
Jimin hated how familiar it felt.
Final year, Fashion Design.
One of those sentences that sounded impressive until you actually lived inside it and realized it was just deadlines, fabric burns, coffee stains, and existential dread stitched together with safety pins.
Across from him sat Jin and Namjoon—also final year, Communication Design—currently arguing over something that sounded like typography but was definitely just them competing for who could suffer more dramatically.
Jin leaned back in his chair. “If I see Helvetica one more time I’m dropping out.”
Namjoon didn’t even look up. “You said that last week.”
“And I meant it last week too.”
Jimin should’ve been laughing.
He usually would’ve been.
But his spoon just kept dragging through his food like it had personally offended him.
It had been a few months.
A breakup that didn’t explode—it just *rotted*. Slowly. Quietly. Until one day Jimin looked at his three-year relationship and realized he didn’t recognize what was left of it anymore.
Cheating didn’t end things cleanly. It just made everything before it feel fake in hindsight.
After that, things rearranged themselves without asking him.
Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, Yoongi—they didn’t pick sides.
They just… picked him.
Which was funny, because they were technically closer to his ex at some point.
Life was weird like that.
“Yo,” Namjoon suddenly said, snapping Jimin out of his head. His gaze had drifted across the cafeteria. “Isn’t that Jungkook?”
Jin followed instantly. “Oh yeah. Third year comm design.”
Jimin paused. “Who?”
Namjoon blinked at him like he’d just admitted he lived under a rock. “Jungkook. Gaming club.”
That name meant nothing.
But the moment Jimin looked—
It definitely started meaning something.
Near the drinks counter, a guy stood half-leaning on one leg like he didn’t fully belong to gravity. Tall. Really tall. Dark hair slightly messy like he’d given up halfway through caring. Piercings catching light when he turned his head.
And that face—
Not soft exactly.
Not sharp either.
Somewhere in between, like he could be both depending on the angle.
He laughed at something someone said beside him, quick and low, like it slipped out before he could stop it.
Jimin’s brain did a very unhelpful thing:
*Oh. That’s dangerous.*
He looked away immediately.
“Why are you staring like that?” Jin asked, instantly suspicious.
“I’m not staring,” Jimin said too fast.
Namjoon hummed. “You are absolutely staring.”
“I just—he looks familiar.”
“He’s literally in gaming club,” Jin said.
Jimin frowned. “I don’t go anymore.”
“Yeah,” Namjoon said. “We noticed.”
Jimin ignored that.
Because now Jungkook had turned slightly.
And somehow, even across distance, it felt like he *noticed back*.
Not a stare.
Just awareness.
Like a camera briefly focusing on something it didn’t expect to see.
Jimin looked down at his tray way too quickly.
“Okay,” Jin said slowly, grinning now. “That was weird.”
“Shut up.”
Namjoon was already waving someone over. “Jungkook! Over here!”
Jimin snapped his head up. “Wait—what?”
“Relax,” Namjoon said, like this was normal. “He’s in the club.”
“That does not mean you summon him like a summonable NPC—”
But it was too late.
Footsteps approached.
Casual. Unbothered.
Like the entire cafeteria wasn’t suddenly louder for no reason.
“Hyung?” a voice said.
Jimin looked up again.
Up close was worse.
Or better.
Depending on how much chaos you enjoyed in your life.
Jungkook stood there with his tray, looking mildly confused but not uncomfortable. Like being pulled into random social situations was just a Tuesday for him.
“Yeah,” Namjoon said proudly, “this is Jimin. He’s—well, you know him.”
Jimin blinked. “Do I?”
Jin choked.
Namjoon elbowed him immediately. “He was president of gaming club before.”
“Oh,” Jungkook said, nodding slightly. His eyes landed on Jimin properly now. “Right. I’ve seen your name.”
Jimin suddenly forgot how to exist normally.
“That’s… possible,” he said.
Smooth. Incredible. Award-winning.
Jungkook’s gaze lingered a fraction longer. Not intense. Not obvious.
Just enough.
“I didn’t think you’d still be around,” Jungkook added casually.
Jin *snorted* out loud.
Jimin whipped his head toward him.
“What?” Jin said innocently. “It’s funny.”
Jimin turned back. “I’m very much alive.”
Jungkook nodded like that was fair. “Good to know.”
A pause.
Too short to be awkward.
Too long to be nothing.
Jungkook shifted his tray slightly. “I should go. My group’s probably stealing my food.”
Namjoon waved him off. “Go, go.”
Jungkook started to leave—
Then paused.
Turned slightly back.
His eyes landed on Jimin again.
Just for a second.
“See you in club,” he said.
And then he was gone.
Like he hadn’t just rearranged something in the air without meaning to.
Jin immediately leaned forward. “Oh my god.”
Namjoon was already smiling. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting anything,” Jin said, way too amused. “But *he looked at you twice.*”
Jimin stabbed his food aggressively. “He did not.”
“He did,” Namjoon said.
“He absolutely did,” Jin added.
Jimin sighed, leaning back in his chair.
“…Shut up.”
But even as he said it—
October suddenly didn’t feel as quiet anymore.