Work Text:
“Are you okay?” A voice asks accompanied by the creak of the door. Taehyung turns his head towards whoever that was and is met by Jungkook, worry written across his face.
The paintbrush drops to the ground, “Yeah, uh, I’m fine. I just— can’t paint. I’m stuck.” Fingers lace through unkempt brown locks in frustration. It seems as though his mind is empty, void of any life.
Art reflects what you feel. Taehyung doesn’t feel anything.
His hand refused to move; the palette too bare. Was it always like this? He squeezes his eyes shut. It’s dull. No red, no blue, just... monotone. What happened to him?
Then, he feels a light pressure of a hand on his shoulder, “Hyung, what’s wrong? We’re all worried. You haven’t gone out for weeks.” The obvious distress in his voice making Taehyung slump his shoulders in defeat.
How can he tell Jungkook what bothered him when even himself didn’t know in the first place?
“I’m not sure, Kook-ah. Everything just seems... colorless.” Taehyung heaves a breath, eyelids too heavy with the bags underneath his eyes telling him how tired he was.
“Look, I’m no artist but I think you should, I don’t know, take a vacation? Go somewhere pretty and find inspiration?”
Taehyung ponders over the idea for a while, “Yeah... maybe I should.”
“Taehyung! I’m so glad you got to visit!” He hears before he’s engulfed in a tight embrace. Taehyung feels himself relax into his mother’s hug; months of stress being shunned away. It feels good to be home.
“Your dad is out in the backyard, go greet him. I’ll let your brother take your luggage up your room.” His mom tells him, motioning the back door. Taehyung obliges, having missed his dad.
The day progresses with him catching up with his family. Telling them of his life in the city and vice versa. Now, though, as he was left alone with his thoughts does he return to reality.
The reason why he was here.
Why did he choose this place? The province didn’t have that many sceneries aside the common sunset and fields yet the moment he decided to do what Jungkook told him, he immediately got reminded of home.
He lets it float in his mind before shrugging it off. It wasn’t worth harboring a headache for.
As the night deepened, Taehyung stares outside the window. His vision runs across the vast expanse of trees that stretched out from their backyard to the mountain miles away.
He should paint there tomorrow.
“Good Morning, son!” His mom chirps, the sizzle of the frying pan drowning the early morning banter of his siblings.
“Are you going out today?” She asks, setting the pancake down to Taehyung’s plate in the process.
“Yes! I’m planning to just walk around the forest.” The humming comes to a halt, his dad lowering the newspaper down to eye him. It’s suddenly too quiet, attention all turned to him.
“Where?” His mom, barely a whisper, questions. At this, Taehyung grows confused.
“To the forest... Is there something wrong?” With eyebrows knitted together, he pushes on. Clearly perplexed at the weird reaction he was getting.
“N-...nothing. Just, keep safe.” And they all fall back as if nothing happened. Taehyung is left to think.
Dried leaves crunched beneath his shoes, feet driving him further into the woods as if he belonged there. The fear of getting lost was nowhere to be found and he felt as though he knew the place very well. There was this sense of familiarity floating in the air.
In the distance, Taehyung notices a stream that separated another part of the forest and a severed rope hanging on a tree. Someone must’ve broken it. He decides to set his canvas up just meters away from the edge, deeming this spot worthy with the sunlight peeking over the trees, it’s yellow-orange glow reflecting beautifully against the water.
Taehyung takes everything in, colors mixing as the paintbrush glides across the canvas. The birds sang as the wind blew. It felt peaceful but…
After a while, he stills.
The painting stares at him, mocking. There was no emotion, just the picture of mother nature thrown in to cover up the emptiness of the surface. He doesn’t want this.
What is wrong with me?
His grip on the brush tightens, anger fogging his mind. A single tear slid down across his pale cheek, and then another one, until it’s a steady stream of salty tears wetting his skin down to his beige shirt. Taehyung takes in a shaky breath, hoping it will somehow help suppress the overwhelming feeling of disappointment. But it doesn’t, a sob ripping out from his throat as he helplessly falls to the ground. Everything felt wrong and it frustrates him. More so because he doesn’t have any goddamn idea why it did. Did he grow tired of it? Does he not want to pursue his passion anymore?
“Why are you crying, Tae?”
Taehyung jolts in surprise, hastily looking around despite the tears blurring his vision.
“W-who’s there?” He asks, voice breaking.
There, at the other side is a boy, staring at him with his face scrunched up in concern. A white dress shirt draped over his small frame; hair tousled in a neat way with his cherry-tinted plump lips jutting out in a pout. He was crouching down, warm butterscotch eyes fixed on Taehyung.
“H-how do you know my name? W-who are you?” Taehyung asks as alarm signals went off in his mind.
“Don’t be scared,” The boy chuckles, “It’s me, Jimin. Don’t you remember me?” With his head slightly tilted to the side, he anticipates Taehyung’s answer.
Do they know each other?
“Sorry I… don’t.” Sadness paints his pretty face, clearly expecting for Taehyung to return his excitement.
“Oh… It’s okay! Do you want to come over here? I can tell you!”
For a moment, he hesitates. What if he’s a murderer? But murderers don’t look like him, right?
“H-how will I cross? The rope’s broken.” Jimin looks at him like he said something ridiculous, “You use the bridge, silly!” Said him before pointing to Taehyung’s left.
Except, there’s no bridge. Just a large tree trunk.
Taehyung doesn’t think much of it, slowly making his way towards Jimin who wore a bright smile that envied the sun. He stretches a hand out for Taehyung to take and soon enough he jumps off and lands by Jimin’s side.
“Come on! I’ve been waiting for a long time for you!”
Waiting for me? Taehyung keeps silent, hand still clasped in Jimin’s soft warm ones, allowing himself to be tugged further to wherever. Somehow, he trusts him enough.
They run, hand in hand, the tall trees looking down on them as Jimin lets out a happy shout followed by a laugh so contagious Taehyung can’t help but giggle.
“We’re here!” Jimin announces, letting go of Taehyung’s hand before climbing up the ladder that led up to a tree house. Jimin motions for Taehyung to follow him, the latter obliging.
“These were yours.” Jimin points to an old canvas hanging loosely on a wire. A box full of acrylic paint rests right below it, left to collect dust. He nears it, letting his fingertips run across the rough surface. Magical creatures colored in mixtures of green and brown danced on the canvas, serving as a reminder of a child’s imagination. It’s his? He shuts his eyes, trying to bring up any recollection of his childhood. Nothing.
“You were already so good at painting, Taehyung-ah. Why are you doubting yourself now?” Taehyung turns around, locking eyes with the other, wonders, how did he know what he was going through?
Jimin is still smiling. It suits him.
And for a moment, Taehyung lets his eyes linger a little longer.
The boy’s wisps curtains his forehead, the sunlight painting it a lighter shade of brown as it lets glimmer the galaxy in his eyes. It drips down to his white shirt, dancing around every edge; his honeyed skin blending with its golden glow. Breath-taking.
“You’re so ... beautiful.” It slips before he can even stop it. Pink tints his cheeks before shyly looking away from the boy that seemed unfazed.
“I know. You always told me before.”
His eyelids dared to droop, head pushing forward in an attempt to rest but Taehyung fights it, hand moving swiftly. The light patters of the rain soothed him, continuing to sketch what was left of Jimin in his memory. He can see how it all falls in place as soon as the paint bleeds on to the paper, a picture mirroring what made his heart race earlier.
Images of Jimin plays in his head; Taehyung feels warm.
And just like that, little by little, he feels.
“Stop!” Jimin whines as Taehyung splashes more water to his face, “Say please first.” He teases, stifling a laugh at Jimin’s scrunched up face, arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re such a baby.” Grinning, Taehyung squishes his cheeks as they stay sat on a rock in the middle of the stream, “I’m not! Stop teasing me, idiot!”
Euphoria bubbles up inside Taehyung’s chest, heart brimming with joy by just simply being in the other’s presence.
He feels Jimin’s stare on him, shrinking under the smaller’s fond gaze, “Well at least my misery is making you smile.” He pauses, “You smile so prettily.”
You smile so prettily.
It echoes in his mind, and again, but now the voice sounded more.. high-pitched, young. In reflex, his eyes flutter shut, fingers pulling lightly on his hair to balance out the ache that started to spread as a hazy snippet of a young boy appears.
You smile so prettily.
“Are you okay?”
Taehyung blinks, rapid, “I... yeah.”
The night is young with the stars hiding behind gray clouds. In their tree house, the both of them just talk about anything and everything as they goof around like they have all the time in the world. From time to time, Taehyung stops to admire the angel that was sat right in front of him, earning an occasional blush or stutter from Jimin.
Taehyung feels at home.
“What are you thinking about?” With a mouth full of food, Jimin manages to get out.
“I’m thinking about how messy of an eater you are.”
Jimin’s eyebrows knit together, “I am?”
Taehyung lets out a soft snicker, clearly enchanted by how pure and innocent Jimin seemed to be. He’s perfect, he’s pretty. Taehyung is easily taken by him.
He stretches a hand out, fingertips brushing over the soft skin of Jimin’s cheek. It stays, the feather-y feel of skin to skin making Taehyung’s heart beat erratically. Every pound sounding in his ears.
Taehyung lets his thumb swipe over the corner of Jimin’s mouth, “There.”
One second, there’s nothing, and then, another, everything all at once. Taehyung feels like he’s about to burst at the seams.
It’s sudden, taking him by surprise.
His heart squeezed, for a fleeting moment it almost forgot. Almost let Taehyung’s brain erase all that was left of the boy whom he shared half of his life with. Now everything makes sense. The feeling of emptiness, it was to be filled by Jimin. The only kid that wanted to be his friend, the only person that believed in him from the very start.
It starts off with memories, flowing back like water, seeping back into his head where it really belonged. Like thread, his mind unravels, strings and strings of his childhood playing inside his head. And then he feels.
“Kiss me.”
And Taehyung’s already leaning in, lips slotting perfectly in his. A lone tear slips past, everything felt surreal. He pulls Jimin in more, longing for his warmth against his. It’s messy, nothing like the fairy tales said it would but it’s true. Genuine. What he feels is strong, he’s brimming with want and Jimin, Jimin, Jimin.
“Do you remember now?” Jimin whispers against his mouth, “Yes.”
They pull apart, Jimin cupping Taehyung’s face delicately as if it were to break, “I missed you, Taehyung-ah. I hope you’ll be happy now.”
He smiles, but it’s one out of i’m sorry.
Before Taehyung can even speak, he sees Jimin fade; he reaches out and grabs. Nothing.
The ghost of his warmth lingered but Taehyung can’t see him anymore.
“I’m so sorry, son. I should’ve told you.”
“What ... what happened?” Through the sobs, Taehyung croaks out the question that burned in his mind.
“The bridge broke and you two fell in. Jimin didn’t make it and you were...” His mom pauses, letting out a silent cry, “You forgot everything. Ever since the accident, something changed in you. I... I wanted to help but I didn’t know how. The color in your life, it dulled a little bit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tae... you always shined bright. But brighter, when you were with him. I could see how special Jimin was to you. There was something you and my dad never got to bring out in you that he did.” Taehyung can see how broken his mother is.
She stands up, reaching for something from the top shelf.
“Here, you always told me not to look inside. I kept it, all these years.” His mom tells him before leaving him be.
A sketchbook. It’s old and worn out but the string still kept it together. He flips it open.
Every page was filled with beautiful sketches and paintings of the forest. The stream, the treehouse, until he flips to the next one and there; a young boy with arms stretched out as if he were to fly up to the sky painted with all shades of blue. He’s looking over his shoulder, that same smile that Taehyung saw when they first met again mirrored, the white dress shirt flowing along with the air.
It’s Jimin.