Work Text:
×
It takes a while for the heart to know. Without rush they say. At your own pace, your own time. You don't need to rush because there's not much to chase. At least that's what Jimin thought.
Jimin, a boy ignorant about love. He speaks to people, engages in conversation. Somewhere around those social events he hoped that—like a miracle—a budding relationship would bloom. But sadly, that wasn't the case.
He was friendly. There was no time of day where people left him alone. From young students to the old ones, they know him. Is he famous? Most likely. All pairs of eyes are on him, and he kind of wished it didn't.
Being watched was the last thing Jimin wanted. But that's all that's given to him, so, who is he to complain about it? And right there he believed he just had to accept it—a life where it's painted by other people, other's guidance, an outsider's choice, everything.
Was he sad about it? He's not sure. What is it to feel, anyway? His thoughts cloud again as he laughs with his classmates inside his classroom. His hair bopping at the top of his head, locks falling to his cheeks. His laugh is angelic, a blessing.
He's good at that. Making people think he's okay. He stands by the belief that showing smiles is better than giving none. Even when he doesn't feel like it, he will. In hopes that it would please everyone. Because he claimed that he should.
And with this bestowed responsibility he placed on his shoulders, it slowly ate him from the ground up. Started off as being a speck of dust in the air and it built up into a hill. It was too big, too heavy. He was still alone. Jimin thought that if he did these things, he'd be happy. Possibly fall in love. Because at the very beginning it was his wish to be treasured. Pulled away from that dream, he wears a mask until his mask becomes one to his skin. Fully sticking into his body, leaving him completely numb. Or was he?
The sky darkens as the sun sets in the far West. Jimin feels the fatigue boiling in his legs as he's been walking.
Walking where?
Home.
Home? Where is home, exactly?
Today was odd. Jimin usually doesn't feel anything, or chooses not to. That's now proven true as his face suddenly changes expression. His eyes crease—not in a pretty way—as tears fall from it. Tears. When was the last time Jimin cried? He doesn't know.
Before his brain can make sense of everything, Jimin feels a cold zephyr hit his cheeks. He opens his eyes and sees himself on top of a building. He shivers as he looks down at the city.
"Why am I here?" Jimin's voice comes out rasp. Rough. A lump on his throat forms as he takes in the situation. He was tired. So, so tired. He takes a step back, tripping and twisting, falling down on all fours and screams.
Another set of tears rolls off his cheeks. It doesn't feel good. His eyes sting from all the frustrations, airways clogged, and throat burning from all the shouts of help. He was in pain.
"Why is it so hard to be happy? What did I do wrong? Am I greedy for wanting more than fake smiles and laughs? Can't I just wish for something more? All I wanna do is be happy. Why do I feel so empty?" Jimin's voice breaks like a glass shattering to the ground. He shouts at the top of his lungs but seems like no one was hearing his calls of help. Was it too late? Is Jimin helpless?
Thoughts cloud his head. But in the middle of all this pain, he felt something. Different from just pretending and hiding. Jimin doesn't notice the creeping smile on his face.
Suddenly, he doesn't feel like a dull stone. He realises he can be more than that. But he's still vulnerable. His knees are probably bleeding from tripping but he's okay about it. He accepts the fact that doing things to people's likings would do you more bad than good. But his body wasn't cooperating. He lays down, head facing the starry sky.
It's beautiful. The stars up there seem happy. Jimin is a little jealous. Because how can a dead thing shine so brightly? The thought shakes as a clatter noise itself out where a door opens, a brown haired boy peeks out the metal door. His eyes are wide open, looking around the place as if looking for something.
Jimin remains unnerved, he looks up at the boy, one arm propping his head. He looks a little taller than Jimin.
After a few seconds, their eyes lock. The boy suddenly smiles. Boxy smile invading Jimin's vision. Even with the minimal light around him, he notices that the man in front of him is pretty. Enchanted, Jimin sits up.
"Hey! Are you okay?" The boy shouts, running to Jimin with big strides. Flustered, Jimin's cheeks blush. It's the first time someone asked if he was okay. His heart beats.
"I'm okay!" Jimin shouts, his singsong voice out again. He decides to use that tone as he realises that the cute boy with curly locks closing on to him is wearing the same uniform as he.
"Why are you here? Do I know you?"
The breath on Jimin's lungs decide to kick themselves out when the brown haired boy kneels down and hugs him with warm hands. Jimin, surprised, freezes. His mind seems to stop processing, only his heart punching hardly against his chest.
What is this? Why is he hugging me?
"It's not worth it." The boy speaks with a voice fluttering like a gentle breeze. Jimin tries his best to break free, to get a glimpse of the beautiful boy in front of him but he just feels the embrace tighten, the boy's fingers curl tightly against his shoulders. Jimin swallows.
"Whatever you're going through, leaving, running away from it, it will never be the answer."
Deep. The stranger's voice is deeper than the shallow rivers, too far down and unreached. A series of questions bubbles Jimin's curiosity. Even when surrounded with charted seas, he somehow feels like he found something. Or was it the other way around?
The taller boy pulls himself off Jimin's chest. His hands still slightly propped on Jimin's shoulder, no pressure. No heavy weight. Jimin's breath hitches, all of this is too new. There's not a single data in his mind gathered to react to whatever this is. Clueless, all he knows is he wants it to stay. Suddenly the air shifts.
"You'll be okay. Trust me."
Without warning Jimin's heart opens, flailing like a flap of paper as the wind blows against it without competition. His world finally distorts beyond his eyes. Splodges of light, the bright ones and the dull ones mesh into one giant painting and in the middle of it all was a boy with fluffy hair and a comfy heart.
×