5. Taehyung

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He made a move, so I did one too. I didn't feel like holding grudges for that Japan Race comment. It's not like we're already on perfect terms. We're working it out. I'm doing shitty things, too (not that I'm doing them on purpose). But he's trying.

So I'm trying, too. Small steps, I thought, and texted him earlier. First version of the text was: I need oil filters, I don't feel like waiting for delivery. Can you get me some after work today? I read through it a few times and deleted it. It sounded too formal, not friendly enough. Not casual enough. We're not strangers. We've known each other forever. So I tried again: Can you get me some oil filters later? I read it again and still hated how it sounded. I even read it out loud. It was unnatural.

Third time's a charm, so I texted: Get me some oil filters later, and hit 'send' without thinking more about it. Then, I sent the phone flying across the counter and decided not to look at it while whatever is supposed to happen, happens.

He texted back an hour later, and I was neurotic enough to check it: No problem. Three will be good?

It will be good.

Jungkook, however, is not the only one to come around today.

I'm working on a car that needs both doors on the right side replaced, when a now familiar person walks inside. The Joonjae guy. I'm not sure what to do about it. Yeah, I freaked out at the race, because so many people were around. No one is here, and I'm not sure if I'm reading his intentions right.

Even if I am... I don't know. He may be handsome, but there is something strange about him. I've never been much of an intuition kinda guy – or at least I've never admitted to actually being one – but it doesn't feel right when he comes near me.

"Nice place," he says, as I set the old, dented back door by the wall.

I made a home for myself here. Of course it's nice.

"Thanks," I say. He reaches out to shake my hand, but I show him mine, all dirty. "Sorry."

"It's fine." He smiles. "What are you up to?"

I point at the doorless Hyundai. "Work. What brings you here?"

He looks around, taking the place in. "I was nearby. I came to see you."

"O-oh. Okay. Well. I have work to do so maybe... maybe later." That's what staying away from interpersonal relationships does to your communication skills.

"I don't mind it," he says. "I can stay around."

It's just that I do mind him being here. I think his problem is the inability to read between the lines. And my problem might be that the only person I've ever been blunt with was Jungkook, and that was usually when I was mean to him. I don't know how to make a point of not being interested. Or maybe – a speculation I push away faster than I drive – I don't make a clear point because I'm scared of missing something that could be good. Or scared of this something happening. Scared of admitting the truth.

I'm certainly scared of something, but I don't like to appear weak, so I guess I'd rather fumble with words while I pretend to be cool and collected.

I don't have the ability to set boundaries, either, so I end up agreeing to him staying, even if I hate someone looking at my hands when I work, and that's exactly what he's doing. I can feel a comment about the way I do things somewhere in the air, he's just not voicing it – thankfully.

It's awkward. Maybe I'm making it awkward. For a few reasons. I don't know if this is just wrong or if I'm just not used to it so I'm making it seem wrong so that it stops. I'm not a master of this... this. Whatever it is.

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