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하루종일 비가 왔음 좋겠어
i wish it would rain all day.
“hyung,” namjoon gently presses the thumb drive into yoongi’s palm, fingers tracing where the older boy’s veins meet and branch out beneath the skin of his wrist, a faint blue tree carrying a lifeline, “hyung, will you listen to them?”
when namjoon withdraws his hand, yoongi curls his fingers over the usb tenderly, “yeah,” he swallows, “yeah, i’ll listen.”
“thanks… thanks, hyung,” and namjoon’s voice is hoarse, worn out. the expression on his face is a cracked one, graced with red eyes, dark circles, and a downturned mouth, lined with exhaustion. there are no pretty dimples for yoongi to melt for, no bright irises of hazel to get lost in, only a broken voice and a sort of rawness that echoes in it to hear.
namjoon hangs his head, and his lips part slightly, as if about to speak, but he then presses them into a thin line, and in a dejected manner, walks away.
and yoongi watches him leave.
인생은 때로는 말할 수없는 단어입니다.
life is a word that sometimes cannot be said.
yoongi’s in his room, a rock in his gut and a stutter in his heart. the sleek, black usb fits secure and pressed into the port of his computer. his screen shows audio files. seven of them.
- tokyo
- seoul
- moonchild
- badbye
- uhgood
- everythingoes
and lastly:
- forever rain
and yoongi wants to listen.
서울 서울 넌 왜 soul과 발음 비슷한 걸까
why is your pronunciation the same as ‘soul’?
yoongi listens.
(and yoongi doesn’t realize there are tears streaking down his face until the last song, forever rain, sounds through his earbuds and namjoon’s smooth voice fills the space where instrumentals quiet.
yoongi also comes to realize that beyond the song’s plea, it’s raining outside, and that the sky is crying too.)
생각하지 말란 생각조차 생각이잖아 you know
even thinking that you shouldn’t think, that in itself is a thought, you know.
“joon?” yoongi asks tenderly, tentatively, voice raspy, “joon, can i come in?”
he only receives a quiet hum in reply.
thumb drive warm in his curled palm, he enters namjoon’s room, closing the door behind him.
“is this finished?”
“yeah,” namjoon whispers, “that’s the final version, the final cut.”
yoongi feels tears burning behind his eyes as he sets the songs on namjoon’s bedside desk, “i’m sorry, joon-ah,” he gazes down at the boy, curled up tight under his covers.
with red puffy eyes and bags below his lash line, namjoon says, voice shattering, “don’t - don’t apologize. you listened, hyung. you always listen.”
silence. warm, comfortable silence.
then, “the sky is crying, joon-ah,” yoongi mumbles, sitting down on edge of the bed.
“you are too.”
“so are you.”
the silence scatters, filling with soft, achey cries instead.
"너 이것밖에 안돼?" (너 이것밖에 안돼?)
"do you only amount to this?" (do you only amount to this?)
they’re curled around each other now. namjoon’s hands are cupping yoongi’s cheeks, lips pressing against the tears that spill from his eyes.
warm and lovely and sad and the sky is crying and yoongi’s crying and namjoon’s crying.
“you’re so - so much, joon,” yoongi assures, eyes tightly shut. there’s no other way to explain it, explain namjoon, “you’re so much, so wonderful.”
“i know, hyung,” namjoon kisses his brow, lips trailing whispers across his skin, “i know i am… believing it is so much harder than knowing it.”
yoongi presses himself against namjoon’s frame, tucking his head under namjoon’s chin, nosing into the hollow of his throat.
(sorry. he’s so sorry.)
“i’ll listen, joon,” he tries to soothe the darkness, smooth it over, “i’ll always listen.”
“i know, hyung.”
“i’ll cry for you. i always will.”
“i - i know,” whispers namjoon into the coarse, black strands of yoongi’s hair, “but i’m not sure i want you to.”
“i’ll stay.”
“will you? stay?”
“only if you want, always...”
yoongi hears namjoon sniffle, hears the hitch in his throat, hears the break in his breath, hears the desperate hesitance as he pleads, “stay. stay, baby. please - please stay with me.”
“okay,” yoongi whispers to the quiet beat of the youngest's heart, “okay, joon-ah. i’ll stay.”
sleep begins to steal them as arms and legs tangle and breaths breathe and words mumble into heavy air. sleep begins to steal them as the cry of the sky outside settles the pound against their roof. sleep begins to steal them as aching chests rise and fall and trailing lips confess quiet, dear things.
“sometimes, i’m scared this is all a dream.”
“it’s not,” yoongi answers from the drag of exhaustion, “it’s not a dream, joon,” he presses his lips to namjoon’s neck, tenderly kissing the sensitive skin there, “we’re not a dream, baby.”
“i’m glad… i’m glad we’re not,” and a final exhale of wakefulness leaves namjoon as he soothes his thumb over the small of yoongi’s back, pulling him ever closer.
(yoongi can’t tell where they end and begin, where soft skin parts from soft skin and songs’ echoes disperse from tied thoughts.)
“i’m glad too, joon-ah. i’m glad too.”
꿈 속에서는 영원할 수가 없잖아...
because in dreams, things can’t last forever...