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The first anniversary they had spent together, it had been a mess of red. A quaint little shop, sitting on plush cushions with dainty red velvet cakes in front of them. Jeongguk still loved to dress in his favourite, bright red hoodies and Jimin’s cheeks were simply red. Red from admiration of his long-time dream, red from the shyness of Jeongguk’s compliments. But he truly turned red when Jeongguk curled his hand shyly, tentatively, unsure if he could hold Jimin’s hand.
Their second anniversary was blue. Jeongguk had taken Jimin to a river, serenading him with the songs of Mother Nature and Troye Sivan. Blue skies, blue ponds and Jeongguk dressed in blue with the words: I love Park Jimin. God, it was so cheesy, Jimin nearly threw Jeongguk into the lake and threatened to leave him there to drown. Instead, Jeongguk had merely turned around, his back to Jimin, smile brighter than the sun smiling fondly upon them.
“Catch me,” he’d laughed as he fell backwards.
Jimin didn’t catch him, much to Jeongguk’s sore back’s displeasure.
Their third anniversary was black, draped with sashes of red and glints of silver. Jeongguk had startled the innocence (like he had much in the first place) out of Jimin when he walked into his bedroom, for once free of the Iron Man posters. The curtains were drawn, the lights were dim, everything was dark except Jeongguk, baring himself proud and bare on the bed. He gleamed, skin shiny and welcoming, tones of sultry flirting and a hint of barely hidden shyness, but his intents were clear.
They proclaimed their love to the man in the moon, even if he never wanted to hear it in the first place. Jimin kissed Jeongguk, poured himself into dark little nebulas all across the galaxy that was his Jeongguk. He reciprocated, staring at Jimin, trying to study each one of the little stars he loved so much in Jimin’s eyes.
“I love you,” Jeongguk had whispered, voice husky from their bold night, eyes dark as the night sky. “I love you, Park Jimin.”
Jimin had held onto the way Jeongguk had said his name. It held more power than all the spells and strength of man, simply because it was Jeongguk who had said it: Jimin was captivated. It was his best dream and favourite dream, in the flesh.
Their fourth anniversary, was the complete opposite of their previous one. They both returned to the innocent world of kids, spinning and laughing around in the bright pastel colours of Everland. Jimin had tried to run, but no, Jeongguk just had to have the body of a Greek God. Laughing madly at all of Jimin’s protests, he’d pushed Jimin (guilt tripped Jimin) onto a roller coaster.
“If I can never love you after this,” hissed Jimin, face pale as the clouds and heart racing faster than him running away after he accidentally woke up Yoongi. He tried to look fierce, but as Jeongguk teased afterwards, he looked like a fluffed up angry kitten. “It is because my heart is still in the sky.”
Even then, he’d whispered his ‘I love you’ when they sat side by side, warm with love, drunk with love watching the sky burst into a million colours that night.
Jeongguk recounts their anniversaries, heart heavy, full of bitterness for himself. He regrets none of them. Never regrets Jimin. But this anniversary…
It may not have any colour but the dull, unfeeling one of grey.
♡
Jimin greets him as a ray of sunshine hiding behind a cloud. His eyes curve, the way they always have whenever he looks at Jeongguk and his voice lights up like roses glinting hello to the sun after a heavy downpour. A practiced hand pulls Jeongguk into his cosy little apartment, painstakingly tidied and readied for tonight. The smell of marinated meat and wafts through the air: Jimin knows that Jeongguk is practically married to grilled meat.
“Gukkie,” sighs Jimin, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. It’s Jimin’s own quiet way of saying ‘mine’, ‘hands off’ and a million unsaid ‘I love you’s. Once, Jeongguk would have loved it. Once, he would have leaned into the touch. Once, he would turn his head and gaze into Jimin’s eyes with oceans of love swimming in his own, reciprocating the little kiss. But now, all he feels is a sting of bitterness and loath for doing this to Jimin, someone who smiles like the sun- is the sun’s reincarnate on earth.
“Guk?” asks Jimin softly, catching on to Jeongguk’s unusual mood. Jeongguk is never moody during their anniversaries; he looks forward to them like bunnies to carrots. His brows furrow, and his hands find themselves easily nestling Jeongguk’s. “Baby, what’s wrong? Did something happen at work today?”
Jeongguk wants to cry. But no, he doesn’t deserve to, not after what he’s about to put Jimin through. Jimin who deserves the world, the universe, something Jeongguk can’t give. Once, he prayed with all his heart that he was the one. That wish is now empty, yawning and unforgiving. All the times he’d told Jimin he’d loved him. He hated how they were lies, but then, his only solace was that he once truly believed in those jewel studded thorns.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice breaking like the surface of the water they had fallen into on their second anniversary. The soft glow in Jimin’s eyes sharpen and brighten, worried and intense. “Jiminie-hyung—“
“Oh god, he’s calling me ‘hyung’,” jokes Jimin gently, trying his best in his sweet, placating way to lighten Jeongguk’s heavy mood. “Just sit, Gukkie, I’ll get you hot chocolate-“
“No, hyung, don’t!” calls Jeongguk at once, hands latching desperately onto Jimin’s sleeve, knowing they will slip out of his soon. Knowing that those warm eyes that reflect his wretched face will soon dim and flood. He breathes, knowing that he’s only making Jimin worry terribly. He hadn’t wanted to do it tonight, but it was ultimately better than lying on to Jimin. “Please, hyung, just- just sit down. I- I- I- need to talk to you.”
“Okay, Gukkie,” says Jimin softly. He moves to claim his usual space on Jeongguk’s lap, but he pretends to sneeze, forcing Jimin to take the couch. He knows that Jimin certainly didn’t plan for their evening to go this way. The soju on the table, the anime disc open over the player, the way blankets have been gathered in a neat little pile by the couch. It was meant to be fun, romantic, a space just for the two of them, a little utopia Jeongguk would ruin. “Talk to me, Gukkie. Who’s upset you?”
“I’m sorry, hyung,” blurts Jeongguk, unable to meet Jimin’s eyes, heart wrenching with every word that forces itself from his mouth. Jimin deserves the truth. Even if it hurts. “Hyung, I want you to remember this, okay? It’s not your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s not your fault- It’s just me, okay? You’re not worthless, you- you’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever come to meet-“
“Guk, you’re scaring me,” laughs Jimin nervously, antsy as the time Jeongguk had first confessed his feelings, a bundle of terrified doe eyes and shaking nerves. “I don’t-“
“There- there’s someone else.”
There it is. The three words that will tear apart everything they’ve built together. Their quiet nights of intimate conversations, every little kiss and every ounce of love they hold for each other.
“I don’t understand,” says Jimin, voice small. His hands have retreated to his lap, folded nervously over each other as they fight for cover, shelter from Jeongguk’s cruel words. Words that Jimin can’t believe he’s hearing. His panic-stricken face says it all. He looks like he’s been told that the world is about to end, and frankly, that might have terrified him less.
“You’ve done nothing but love me, hyung. I’m… I’m so sorry for doing this to you. You don’t deserve this, you never have. Everything we’ve done, I regret none of it. It’s not that you haven’t been- I- You don’t deserve me, hyung. I… I… met someone else,” he croaks out, his voice going wobbly with tears and grief for all the times he’s spent together with Jimin, someone Jeongguk is privileged to meet, someone he has worried time after time again if he sacrificed himself for his country in his previous life to deserve meeting him. “There’s no easy way to say this, hyung. I… I…”
“You fell for someone else?”
Jimin states it like a question even though he knows, he knows. Even if it’s everything he’s absolutely terrified of. He clings to Jeongguk’s promises of ‘forever’, whispered under a blanket of stars and over a carpet of daisies. He clings to Jeongguk, even though Jeongguk is far away, beyond his reach. The miniscule hope still resides in his voice, praying that Jeongguk is messing with him, a badly thought out prank to laugh over afterwards.
Jeongguk nods and Jimin’s face falls.
“It’s not your fault!” protests Jeongguk immediately, clasping Jimin’s. “You didn’t-“
“In the end, I wasn’t good enough,” says Jimin simply. His face is devoid of emotion despite the turmoil that rages in him. He wants his instincts to take over and pummel Jeongguk to the ground for doing the same to his heart. He wants to push Jeongguk against a wall and kiss all those terrible, terrible words away. He wants Jeongguk to be HIS.
“Hyung…” protests Jeongguk quietly. “I’m sorry. I… I tried to convince myself that was a silly crush. I tried my best. But… I couldn’t. I… I… I need to do this properly, hyung. I need to tell you before… it’s too late. I’m so sorry, hyung. I would… wouldn’t have dated you if I knew that I would hurt you this way, because you don’t deserve it. You deserve someone so much better than the crap I am-“
“Jeongguk.”
“Y-yes, hyung?”
Jimin turns his head robotically. Tonight wasn’t supposed to turn out this way, his eyes scream. Tonight was supposed to be a night of us being married to love. Jimin doesn’t want to hear anymore explanations, doesn’t want his heart to die tonight.
“Does he make you happy?” he asks simply.
Jeongguk nods guiltily. “I haven’t cheated on you, hyung. I could never do that to you. I just… I don’t want to lie to you, hyung. I don’t want you to be in a relationship where… I couldn’t love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
All Jimin hears is that he’s not good enough.
But he still wants more. Still loves Jeongguk with his whole being despite his world being overturned like a bowl of eggs at his feet. Despite his heart shaking and shuddering and threatening to just stop beating, to curse the cosmos, Jimin smiles through his tears, trying to ignore the ugliness building in his chest, threatening to rage like a demon and ruin their paradise.
But then, Jeongguk has ruined it already.
“I need to know, just please, just let me know. What we had… was it… did you…?”
His question goes unasked, lost in time. But Jeongguk knows. He always knows, has always had those magical fingers that were able to pluck out Jimin’s questions that drifted away into thin air.
“I loved you, Jimin-hyung,” implores Jeongguk, begging for Jimin to believe him. He melts off the couch, sinks to his knees, clutching Jimin’s hands in his as he presses them to his forehead. “Please, it’s really not your fault. We… we just weren’t made for each other. I’m so sorry, hyung. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry…”
Loved. Over. Gone. Fallen leaves that will never taste the sweet sky again.
Apologies fall like rain. Like the shower of falling stars they’d watched together that night of a promised ‘forever’. Jimin will never believe in falling stars again. They’ve fallen from their sky, fallen from their home. Maybe if Jimin had never wished that night, he would still be home.
Once, Jimin would believe him when Jeongguk said that things weren’t his fault, when Jimin was perfect. He would engrave them into his skin with sweet little kisses, pull him against himself until all Jimin knew was Jeongguk, Jeongguk, always and forever Jeongguk.
“Then what were the past five years?” demands Jimin, rage building in him. His lips tremble, barely able to get out his words over the lump growing in his throat, ugly and painful. “All those times you told me that you ‘loved’ me. When you told me I was perfect. You’re lying, Jeon Jeongguk. Stop lying to me, you know I hate it when you lie! Tell me this isn’t true!”
“Hyung…” Jeongguk barely manages to get out. He’s afraid, but he’s trying so hard. “I didn’t-“
“No, you fucking did!” hisses Jimin. The sight of Jeongguk’s wide, frightened eyes blur into a slate of misery and anger. “You’ve lied to me all this time. Five years, Jeongguk, you led me on for five years. I thought you were the one. I love you with EVERYTHING I have and it isn’t enough for you? How much more selfish can you get? I gave you EVERYTHING, Jeongguk, everything! What else do you want?”
“Hy-“
“Take my house, take my car, take my fucking bank account for all I care!” screams Jimin, shaking so hard the surroundings seem to be suffering an earthquake. “Take my heart, break it, BREAK IT!” he storms a few feet away, unable to even stand the sight of the boy who was his everything. Glass splinters, it’s the glass vase Jeongguk had bought him after their trip to Everland. “You hear that, you selfish piece of shit? That’s my heart for fuck’s sake!”
“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jeongguk sobs openly now, wanting to go and comfort Jimin, but afraid at the same time. “It’s not your fault, hyung, I swear-“
Jeongguk’s head whips to his right, a searing pain turning his left cheek a bright red.
“Then whose fault is it?” bellows Jimin, shaking Jeongguk so hard he swears he sees stars. “How long have you met this guy? Huh? How long did it take for him to steal you from me? I WANT WHAT IS MINE, GODDAMIT!”
“A year a-ago,” stammers Jeongguk, teeth chattering, a hand to his injured cheek.
“He took a year to undo our five years,” hisses Jimin, letting go of Jeongguk. The thoughts that Jeongguk has managed to hold at bay for so long swarm him, overwhelming him. For too long, Jimin has allowed himself to be deceived by Jeongguk, letting himself believe that he was someone who could be loved to.
Jimin has held onto Jeongguk for so long with tightly clenched fingers, it is absolute agony to tear himself from him.
“Get out.”
The words are vehement, he’d never thought that he would ever hear himself say that to his, his beloved Jeonggukie, not even when the words he feared the most tumbled out of Jeongguk’s mouth. No, he can’t put Jeongguk first this time. What about him? Where is the forever Jimin has held onto for so long? Jeongguk can’t do this, can’t do this. He wants Jeongguk to take back everything and stay, just stay. They’ll have their meal of grilled meat, and they’ll make love and be so terribly in love that the universe wants to regret creating them.
. But Jeongguk picks himself off the tear stained floor and flees into the dark night with a guttural sob before he can hear the crashes of everything they’ve built together.
Jimin’s hands fly, and the little photograph of them immortalised in time, when Jeongguk still loved him, breaks into a million pieces. He doesn’t look at the picture; he’s memorised it, the way Jeongguk smiles at him with such fondness- he stomps on its remains as he cries for real, each little shard of fallen love carving their way through his heart.
Jeongguk never sees the little relvet box clutched in Jimin’s white hands. Never hears the snap as he tries to force all his pain out, snapping the halves of the box.
Never sees the little silver ring gleam even brighter in the warm room of ember as Jimin begins to grieve of the loss of a home he never managed to claim his own alone, even after dreaming of it for so long. It is, after all, from the happiest dreams we wake up saddest of all.