Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Life has it, humans, on earth, are doomed to roam their path in a colorless wander until they are face-to-face, with their soulmates. The ability to see was a rumor as far as Jimin was concerned, and no matter how many times he dreamed of vibrant hues, or how many times his friends claimed to bask in the calmness of the cool tones, even after finding love Jimin's world remained dull. No sparkling tones not even a speck of mere pastels. There were no colors to look forward to in his ordinary life. If Namjoon wasn't his all then, he'd have it no other way. He found love and against destiny he would ablaze, with no second thoughts or regrets.

You see, Namjoon and Jimin met when they had both auditioned for their school's theater production club. Jimin wanted a backup dancer position while Joon was there to make them swoon with his lyricism and beats, as the school's assistant music director. Between glances and flirty eyes, the lifeless details of his romantic life were spared hidden behind black and white prints. Nothing made sense to Jimin. This was fucking love and he was sure Namjoon could be the one yet destiny called his bluff and his path remained dull. Nothing was different besides the way his heartbeat for Kim Namjoon. Being in a continuous fight with fate was challenging in its way. Both Jimin and Namjoon knew they were not each other's soulmates but how could they fight against their amorousness? Their hopeless devotion to one another, their tint-less love despite the rules of this cursed colorless life felt right, and in, Jimin's heart that's all that mattered.

"Jimin, are you coming tonight?" His bestfriend, Taehyung asked.

Taehyung and Jimin's story began back in the middle school setting of the Busan High School detention room. Both trouble-makers found their way to each other after being caught skipping their math class. They were the only two in the poorly lit room that scorching June afternoon, with Mrs. Brass as their witness to attest to their newfound friendship. That day they bonded over their fondness of the theater world and their love of pretty boys in the industry, not to mention their massive crush on Gong Yoo, "Please tell me you are. I don't wanna go to this club without my best friend."

"Begging is not cute on you. Plus isn't your beloved, Jung Hoseok going," Jimin jokingly made kissy faces in his direction at the mention of his boyfriend. 

Taehyung unlike many people their age, including Jimin, has found his real-life soulmate in Jung Hoseok. The man who painted between the lines in both of their paths. Oftentimes, both boys stayed up late at night as Tae recounted the tinge in even the simplest of things circling our world. The way roses vivaciously spilled a hue of red was so powerful and seductive, that it was associated with love. Can you believe it, the world danced in shades of pink and red for the entire month of February? The month of love and roses where they unanimously designated flowers were gifted out the entire month. Grass, the leaves on trees, and most of the currency around the world were all given different tones of green, in the back of his mind Jimin could imagine verdant fields, and there he was lying beside his love, Joon. The soft wind swooshed across their face and finally, destiny wasn't set up against them. He could love his choice for a partner while enjoying the serenity in the emerald pasture. They then moved on to the bright color of the sun which was blindly yellow and the similar shades of blue assigned to the sky and sea, again, Jimin found immense tranquil emotions in the description of the color blue as all he associated with it was the crashing of waves against the shore.

Having Taehyung by his side gave him peace of mind, not to mention, that he would probably never be able to witness the different colors set through life. A description, at least sufficed.

"Yes, and so will Kim Namjoon, but they're performing remember? Are you not attending your boyfriend's first performance of the semester?" Taehyung inquired, his thick eyebrows furrowed.

"I was going until I was assigned a full-on research paper for my creative writing class due on Friday," Jimin rolled his eyes, "I was just going to spend my night doing some research in the library."

"It's the first big event and you're going to spend it doing school work?" his hand was on his hip and his expression, his eyes had I'm judging you written all over it, "over my dead body. Let's get you an outfit right now. What are you feeling like today?"

"Stressed." Jimin plopped down in his full-sized bed .

"I meant like.. what do you want to express through your outfit today?"

"I want to project of tranquility tonight. I want Joon to see me in the crowd and just be hit consumed by calmness.” 

“Jimin you do realize more than half of your closet is full of blue clothes, right?”  His best friend scrambled  through his closet as he attempted to put together the perfect outfit. 

"It’s not my fault I’m always leaning towards the description of this so-called blue. "

Looking in the mirror, Jimin could not move past the colorless lines of the black and white cloths hugging his frame. He looked good no doubt but in the back of his mind he couldn't help but feel the overbearing urge to just see himself, and he meant to really see himself. He reeked of desperation for a dot of color, even the slightest but there was nothing.

Nothingness, absolutely nothing at all. Just dreadful gloom. He sighed and grabbed his shades from the nightstand table heading out into the featureless night.

--

"Jiminie," Taehyung greeted him as they stood at the beginning of the line. The late-night breeze causing goosebumps to form at this arm. A jacket would’ve definitely been complimentary, "Nice shades. They add the perfect touch of you."

"Please tell me I picked the right color, did I throw the whole outfit off?" Jimin asked as he removed the shades from on top of his head and flung them onto his shirt, "I just grabbed them last minute and hoped they looked good."

"They're perfect Jimin, don't worry. You look amazing tonight," Tae shot him a fond smile and held his hands intertwining their fingers together. T hey made their way down the monotonous pitch-black hallways scattered with unidentifiable bodies, scattered on both sides. Some were kissing, others simply enjoying a bit of time away from the congested dance floor that lay ahead.

The venue was huge, there were three floors from what Jimin could make out in the chaotic smoke-filled atmosphere, the bar stretched from wall-to-wall and the stage was enormous. Surely everything his boyfriend and Hoseok deserved for their debut showcase. Stepping directly onto the main floor of the club Jimin was instantaneously blinded by the bright colorless lights. The thunderous rupture of music invaded his eardrum completely as the heavy hip-hop music beat at his tympanum. Waxen complexions of the countless bodies dancing away, swaying their hips to the rhythm of the ear-splitting music.

Everything laced with the tint-less cruelty that Jimin wished ceased to continue haunting him. He was in love for fucks sake. Real love. Why couldn't destiny let him have this?

"I think it's starting the lights have dimmed," Taehyung expressed excitedly as he hopped up and down in place, the emitted fog from the smoke machine took over the stage and the screaming of fans confirmed that they're significant others were in fact about to take the stage. Their spot at the bar was amazing considering the fact that they had a clear view of the stage despite the disarray taking place all around them. Jimin was ready to see his boyfriend, leaving it all on stage. Joon's eyes always sparkled as he expressed himself about his songs, the love he had for the artistry of music filled Jimin's heart with fondness and happiness for him.

There was no better feeling than seeing his other half succeed the way he knew he deserved.

- 

Initially, Jimin did not notice it at all.

He'd grown accustomed to the color lines of his everyday life running by his mind. He’d remember wanting to take mental pictures to revisit everything once, his path of love destined him to finally witness fluorescent tones. But he was unwilling to leave Namjoon so that was unattainable as it was pre-written in the stars.

So, no he did not notice it, initially.

His eyes were just fixated on his boyfriend on stage. Mesmerized by the way his large hands gripped the microphone tightly, the way the spotlight was set on him accentuating his golden skin, the way his neck veins popped out as he delivered his verse devotedly, not a stutter in his voice, his dimples peeking through as he recited every word.

So once again, no, he hadn't noticed it at all.

Then, swiftly his eyes met a deep vermilion hue. A tint so rich it was almost blinded him. Still, he hadn't realized the flourishing of his newfound ability. His eyes diverted to the shorter man on stage, he stood opposite his boyfriend, he was much shorter than Hoseok and Joonie. But his voice remained firm in his smooth delivery of his verse. His bass voice was aggressively rapid in the way his rosy lips delivered his hypnotizing lyricism.

Then suddenly the lights came on and Jimin quickly grew overwhelmed by the indefinite amount of colors that surrounded him in the venue. Something he'd never thought he'd experience ever.

His ability was triggered by someone who wasn't his.

Someone who wasn’t Namjoon.

--

Once arrived and seated at the restaurant, Jimin couldn't help but be consumed by his thoughts. Nothing made sense to him. If he'd met the self-proclaimed love of his life two years ago why was it that his ability to see everything just now developing? Was this the universe's way of making things right by their love?

Universe, if your hands are at work to make things right by Joon and I’s love please give me a sign. Jimin thought and  he waited patiently for said sign but nothing came. 

Just disappointment. 

"Jimin,” Taehyung called out to him, "are you ok?"

Everyone's eyes were on him, yet for some reason having |his| eyes on him caused his stomach to churn. He was going to be sick. Jimin felt this sense of unspoken intimacy among the two of them, though, he didn't even fucking want it. He didn't know him, he didn't love him. But the way |his| umber orbs glistened under the light of the chandelier in the restaurant strung at Jimin's heartstrings.

He didn't want this. He was madly in love with Kim Namjoon.

He was!

"Yeah, I'm fine," He rubbed his eyes aggressively to take away from that burning feeling of having Yoongi's stare burning a hole at his side, "I'm fine."

His mind wasn't here, he was on the most antagonistic trip of his life. He hated every part of this.

“Are you sure?” His best friend asked, a concerned expression sitting at his features. 

"I'm sorry I guess my brain is floating elsewhere. Did I miss something?” 

"I was saying, I'm happy you finally get to meet one of my best friends from back home, Yoongi. He just moved here from Daegu like three weeks ago."

"Is that so?" Jimin asked, "how come I didn't get to meet you before?" His eyes now lay on the man sitting to this left. The man caused an astounding amount of dismay in Jimin's life without really intending to. Changing everything he thought his heart wanted in a matter of seconds. No matter how much he attempted to shut his heart and mind, they continued looping a deep crescendo, so annoyingly loud he was afraid his boyfriend and Yoongi would hear.

He didn't fucking want it.

"I spent the last 2 weeks held hostage at the studio by these 2 idiots." His voice was honey-dipped, sweet in the way words rolled right off his tongue yet still deep like the Pacific.

"It's still nice to meet you, Yoongi."

"You too, Jimin."

He mentally blacked out out yet again at the sound of his name coming from |his| plump red lips, though he managed to gather his thoughts. Even if he forcibly had to, with all 600 muscles in his body he would ignore whatever nonsense ran through his mind and toyed with his heart. He would ignore it all beginning today. Not life, not destiny, not Yoongi can stand in the way of the 730-day-old love story written by his truly, Kim Namjoon.

Today. Right now, that was the last of his unintentional emotional pull toward, Yoongi. He had control of his thoughts. And his life.

Yes, he did.

--

The hardest part of being a witness to the vibrant hues life had to offer was keeping it all from his friends. Jimin was horrible at keeping secrets and this was his biggest one yet. Noone, not even Taehyung could find out about the cruel curveball life had pitched his way not because Jimin distrusted his best friend but because he was even worse at keeping secrets than he was and he had to hold this one deep within the enclosed walls of his heart for as long as he could.

Of course, Jimin repressed his newfound admiration for the infinite variations of pigments that came to life around him as the fall season began to creep in. He silently basked in the warm amber, auburn, crimson, and mahogany tints of the fallen autumn leaves. The variations of pumpkins both small and huge decorated every corner of the campus quad. Still, he kept at his pace, his black Chelsea boots crunching the dry leaves in his path as he neared the campus coffee shop.

He uttered a soft, "thank you," as he went up to the counter grabbing his chocolate croissant and iced caramel macchiato. Amongst the growing business of the cafe, Jimin struggled to find an open seat to enjoy his breakfast and pretend to study. That was until his eyes scanned the now empty booth towards the back of the shop. By instinct, his initial thought was to run, but the crowd was ever-growing and he hated to ruin someone's day by accidentally spilling their coffee, so instead, he sped walked over, and surely, he made it.

But he wasn't the only one.

"Looks like we'll be sharing his one," the new yet not completely estranged, husk voice expressed, "this way you can finally stop avoiding me."

There was a lump growing in his throat and he could feel his lips dry up, "I have not been avoiding you. I simply barely know you."

He smirked, "Ouch!  that hurt," Yoongi shook his head, "Should I continue ignoring  our little secret then?”

He quickly hushed him, looking around making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. His heart pumping a billion beats per minute. Namjoon was well known around their school campus and the last thing he needed were false rumors getting to his boyfriend's ears.

"We-” he pointed at the both of them, “we do not have a fucking secret," Jimin was stern with his words. 

"Is that right?" his smile flashed in Jimin's direction opposite side of him on the booth. This was the precise reason he had been avoiding Yoongi, all week long. Because if Yoongi said it, it would be true and he chose to bask in his delusion.

"Shut up Yoongi" Jimin shook his head, "I don't need you to say it. I already know.”

"Do you know?" He furrowed his eyebrows.  "Look I know this is all confusing and just unfair to you but just imagine how I feel. Back home everyone I knew had found their soulmates. I was the  left alone every single time. There was no love for me in Daegu . I was convinced of that. I came to terms with that," His gaze was intently set on Jimin,  "Then, just one look at you and everything I was used to changed forever."

"I get how unfair it is that destiny chose us two Yoongi. Believe me," He felt deep anger rising within him, this was fucking exasperating so he took a deep breath. He was mad Yoongi for coming to Seoul and ruining everything he previously labeled as his happiness, he hated destiny for labeling them as soulmates, and most of all he hated that his love for Joon was simply just not enough, "You are my boyfriend's best friend. We cannot be anything. Ever."

"I'm not asking for reciprocation of feelings, Jimin but I do want to know why life thinks we would be the perfect item. I want to know why were we matched up together. Don't you?" his words were inquisitive and although Jimin himself wanted to know. He did, yet he shook his head. Being near, Yoongi would not be good, at all.

Six words continuously playing in his mind, like a tune on loop:

'Soulmates are drawn towards each other

"I don't think that's a good idea," those six fucking words still drilling at his head, he couldn't betray Joonie.

He wouldn't.

He shook his head, "That's not a good idea."

Jimin grabbed his coffee and chocolate croissant and ran away from him as fast as he could. He grew dizzy but there was no stopping his feet from getting him away from that wretched situation at once. Faintly, though he could hear Yoongi after him. His voice makes it harder for Jimin to focus on his path to his Intro to Writing class.

--

“Relatively speaking,” Jimin began, “if Hobi, were to be hiding a major secret from you, would it anger you?”

“That’s a complex question Jiminie. There are layers to it I think,” As much as he wanted to hear anything different, Jimin knew this was the best answer as he would get without into intricate details regarding his situation.

An exasperated sigh escaped his throat, eyes glued once again to the ceiling. The room fell silent once again, Taehyung picked his phone back up from on top of Jimin’s best.

The two of them did this often. They’d pick either Jimin or Tae’s room and they just, sometimes in silence, like that afternoon or sometimes they talked about so much they wouldn’t even realize the day had slipped them by. Although, Jimin had endless thoughts to share he couldn’t bring himself to vocalize any of them.

As if he could read his thoughts Tae placed his phone back on the bed, “Are you ok? What’s up Jimin?”

Jimin shook his head, “nothing, uh, just thinking of his classmate I have.”

“Spill.”

Jimin’s palms grew clammy as he proceeded to recount his version of the twisted past events.

“Well she’s in a bit of a complicated situation you might say,” His best friend nodded, looking intently in his direction, “she has a boyfriend with whom she’s been going out for some time now. She didn’t specify how long but let’s say they began dating two years ago and she likes her boyfriend a lot but for some reason, this hadn’t triggered her soulmate's ability to see color-“

“Like you and Joon,” he interrupted.

The comment stopped Jimin’s heart in its tracks. He panicked a bit before he mentally gathered himself enough to continue, “Like Joon and I but like not us at all.”

“Of course, no, got it.”

“Ok, uh they had been dating for two years right and she likes her boyfriend a lot but for some reason, this hadn’t triggered her soulmate's ability to see color. However, now a new man has walked into her life and this new man who she barely even knows triggered it and she kind of doesn’t know what to do.”

Jimin’s heart raced at an increasing rate and for some reason, he felt his friend could see right through his bullshit.

“This is a bit of a complicated story but I feel like now that she’s aware of who triggered her ability she should communicate with her boyfriend at the very least about what’s going on she deserves that,” Those words hit Jimin like a truck and although not intentional he knew his retention of the truth past his current stance would only end up hurting everyone around him. Joon included.

Tae continued, “Just tell her no one expects to wake up in the morning and fall out of love with her boyfriend but she should allow herself the chance to at least know her soulmate and just look into why they were paired and brought into each other's lives. After all, it is unlikely to get the chance to meet your soulmate in your life and every year the chances continue to decrease more and more. A lot of people drag themselves through without the potential to experience any of it at all. She owes herself the chance to just see what’s up.”

“Can I confess something?” Jimin’s head remained lowered in an attempt to avert eye contact with his best friend, he played with the rings decorating his small fingers.

“It’s you isn’t it,” he nodded, words escaping his mouth, his lips grew parched and he could feel a lump at his throat, “who’s your soulmate Jimin?”

“It’s Min Yoongi,” tears swelled at his eyes blurring his vision.

“Min Yoongi as in Joon’s bestfriend?”

“Mhm.”

Taehyung moved his seat on Jimin’s bed, now seated beside him embracing him in a tight hug, “Now I see the conflict perfectly well. I’m sorry life put you in the middle of all of this. But you have to tell him sooner or later and sooner will at least spare him the feeling of betrayal.”

A single tear stained Jimin’s honey cheek and he wiped it with the sleeve of his navy blue hoody, “I know.”

Silence once again fell through as the early evening creep in and deep within Jimin knew after today he would have to face reality.

—

When Monday roamed around Jimin’s mind was in a stir. A deep conflict sitting in the back of his head and although he knew what he needed to do he wasn’t necessarily prepared to.

A series of questions ran through his mind:

Would Joon be mad?

Would this ruin Joon’s friendship with Yoongi?

Would they break up over this?

Everything Jimin feared could harm his relationship with Namjoon just in a matter of seconds but he knew what he needed.

He didn’t want to harm his feelings.

Not at all.

Not ever.

“You OK Jiminie?” Namjoon asked as he settled their picnic, “you seem like your mind is wandering.”

“I’m definitely out of orbit, to be honest,” he grabbed the half diagonally cut BLT taking a massive bite out of it.

“Speak your mind, I’ll be nothing but ears,” Joon offered, “pretend we’re just friends. Better yet I’ll run to your dorm and dress up as Taehyung if you wish.”

An infectious giggle escaped his plump cherry lips as he held them at his side, then a dark cloud settled back into his mind, the catastrophic forecast sending his congested mind into a frenzy, “Well-“

He cleared his throat in an attempt to be rid of the massive lump sitting stuck in his throat.

“It’s about this- this uh, thing,” Jimin scratched at the back of his head. Form some fucking words, “It’s- fuck. Sorry, it’s just hard to let it out,“

“Just breathe baby,” he took Jimin’s hand in his, softly stroking his palm with his thumb.

“It started the night of your debut stage, you remember? The day you took the stage for the first time with Hoseok. I was so proud of you,” He finally started, not quite there yet though.

“With Hoseok and Yoongi,” he added.

He shuddered at the sound of his name.

“Yoongi,” Joon nodded signaling he was following along, his gaze falling solely on Jimin, it was fucking intimidating, “that night something major happened to me. Something I didn’t mean to keep to myself for so long and I’m sorry about that, truly.”

His boyfriend’s tone changed, the usually calming honey voice that once soothed him even in the darkest time was substituted by worry, “Jimin why are you apologizing?”

“because that night, of your debut showcase i discovered something, it was uh- my ability to see colors. It was triggered by someone Joon,” Namjoon’s first instinct led to let go of Jimin’s hands, confusion and awe was written all over his expression.

“Wait, Jimin-“ He stood. although it was sunny clear fall skies, Jimin could feel a multitude of gloomy clouds storming around in his mind, “but I still see in black and white. I don’t understand,”

Jimin hurt him. He hurt his Joonie.

“That’s the thing though,” Jimin expressed, “It was triggered by someone else.”

“Who was it?” He asked, his eyes watery and that very image tore Jimin’s heart into a million tiny pieces. There was no fixing it, there was no making any of this better.

So he said it with no thought to his words. Like ripping the bandage right off a fresh wound, “It’s—“ he sighed, “Min Yoongi..”

“Min Yoongi?” he asked bewildered.

“I swear I wanted to tell you Joon. I swear I was going to tell you,” tears streamed down his face, his quiet sobs interrupting his every sentence, “but there was a massive stir in my mind and for weeks after I couldn’t even believe life paired me with your best friend-“ he rambled on and on, slurring out apologies amongst incoherent words.

Joon kneeled in front of him their tear-stained cherry cheeks and puffy faces opposite each other, “this is not your fault Jimin,” he stroked his boyfriend's cheek, “this is not your fault,” he uttered time and time again like a broken disc. It seemed he was repeating it out loud to somehow fool himself into believing because although it’s true it wasn’t within Jimin’s desire to have Yoongi labeled as his soulmate, he hid the truth from him.

“What’ll happen to us now?” Jimin sniffled as he wiped away the wet stains on his cheek, “does this mean we’re over?”

A thunder rumbled within him shaking him up a bit yet, still, the sun above his head shone ablaze.

Namjoon shook his head, “where does that put us Jimin?”

“Is this it?” he let out, “after two years?”

“From the beginning, we were doomed Jimin. We fooled ourselves into thinking that somehow life; against what was already written in the stars for you and I, would open an imaginary passage for our love like we were some kind of exception. How could we change our predestined future? There is nothing we can offer each other but being a physical stump to the passage of meeting our true soulmates. I set you free, Jimin. You and Yoongi were made soulmates for a reason and you deserve to explore that,” Joon explained, and with each word he iterated the deep crescendo blared within Jimin, like a tune in a horror film, opening up a massive crack within the walls of his heart and for a second he thought he would die of a broken heart.

—

The stench of Jimin’s heartbreak aromatized his bedroom entirely, majorly due to the fact that he was far too drained and had brushed off the necessity of getting himself up to shower, let alone wash his hair at all within the last week. So he remained in a fetal position, knees tucked into his chest an enormous pool of tears staining the grey bed sheets just below him. The vast darkness blinding him temporarily, though, he remained comfortable in the absence of light, away from the very thing that stabbed him in the back and the thing took Joon away from him in the process.

Dejection was of consolation.

His safe space.

“Jimin?” Taehyung peaked his head into his best friend’s bubble of sorrows. There was nothing. No movement, no words, no signs or communication, “just checking in on you.”

- Silence -

But his friends remained at his stature on the door frame.

“Do you want something to eat?” he tried once again.

“N-no,” Jimin’s voice was hoarse, strained from all the weeping he’d done on countless nights now, “I’m OK.”

“Jimin?” He felt the bed dip where Taehyung had taken a seat on his bed near the feet, “please Jimin, you need to get up from this bed. I haven’t seen you eat, bathe or even tend to your classes. You know I accidentally failed your Pre Calculus online quiz yesterday. Completely unintentional trust me. I’m just shit at math.”

Jimin sniffled under the covers.

It was true. Within these last two weeks, he’d become a complete wreck, there wasn’t an ounce of himself he would recognize if he took a look in the mirror at this very moment.

“Jimin, look at me,” he could feel the sheets being pulled off him lightly, his swelled and watery eyes meeting Taehyungs’ “I know it feels like the end of the road for love Jimin. But this-“ he pointed at his chest, “what you feel, It hurts like hell but all wounds heal and eventually you have to realize that life puts experiences in our path, just so we can make it to our destination with precautions we didn’t previously hold. Grieve today, but tomorrow stand up for you Jimin because you deserve to move on and live on. Just as he is,” Taehyung's soft hands wiped away his tears.

Jimin nodded, tears excessively falling from his eyes. The tears weren’t out of sadness but rather an appreciation that he crossed paths with Kim Taehyung when he did back in grade school or else he wouldn’t know where he would be at this very moment.

“Thank you,” he simply let out, hoping it was enough to communicate the immense gratitude he’d felt towards his best friend, “Thank you.”

—

Red.

In Jimin’s mind, the horrid tint was no longer associated with the feeling of love. As the last week of October rolled the fake displays of gore and an excessive amount of splattered blood paraded around campus reminded him of the crimson hue.

It signified the altercations Jimin’s heart had fallen victim to and the visual left behind was a crime scene, covered up behind yellow and black caution tape as his heart profusely bled out.

No hint of amore lingered in its name:  RED.

And at that moment he’d despised that such a shade could be so hypocritical and make him feel two completely different emotions at once.

His chelsea boots clacked against the pavement as he made his way to class despite the brutal wind blowing aggressively at him. The air was unusually frigid, even for October, and for a second Jimin entertained the idea of turning back around and faking having the stomach virus to hide under the safety of his sheets for just one more day but he opposed the idea, as he was behind on some classes as is. luckily time sped by rather quickly, and his three lectures for the day were done before he knew it.

“Yea, uh, study space number twenty should be opened. It’s towards the back but it’s a shared space-“The girl with bright cherry red hair informed him, clicking away at her keyboard from behind the desk, “Is that OK?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. That’s perfect. Is there a limit check on space?” He asked scanning his library card to confirm his reservation of the space.

“Is two hours good?” She asked, “if you happen to leave before you can just let me know. I have the night shift.”

“Thank you so much,” Jimin bowed in her direction, “you have a good night.”

Jimin walked off towards the back of the library. Like him, he noticed the building was filled with students scattered around doing work in solo study spaces, shared conference rooms, communal tables, and even just lying upon the floors. Multi-colored stationeries dispersed around the rufous table tops which perfectly matched the booth seats that shared the same color.

The shade of the brownish-red tone jumped out at Jimin, standing out against the beige carpet. That irritating color has been tormenting him all fucking day long and to be honest burying his face into his 15-page reading assignment was sounding rather ideal right about now. Finally, he came face-to-face with the bold black letters, that read: space #20. The room was brightly lit, the reflection of the light bouncing off the colorless walls. Yet through the four-by-six rectangular vertical window on the door, one thing stood out to Jimin almost instantly.

A cardinal red hoodie was worn by his study space neighbor. That’s just great.

“Hi, I’m sure you wanted this space for yourself but there were no other private rooms for studying,” Jimin rambled as he walked to the desk on the far side, not once sparing the other boy a look, “but I’ll be quiet and out of your hair before you know it.”

“Jimin?” The vibrations of the gruff voice sent a shiver down his back and suddenly he froze. He knew exactly who it was, “is that you?”

A discomforting quietude fell within the small room and Jimin could swear the red, blood-pumping organ sitting at his chest could be heard out loud amongst the two of them. Jimin gulped and turned around slowly, only to be met by the very features that once instantaneously yet inconveniently caught his eye.

“You know,” Yoongi began as he stopped himself from gathering his belongings in a rush. The thermostat hadn’t been touched yet the temperature felt hell-like. That’s precisely what this situation felt like; HELL, “I never asked for this either, Jimin.”

“You don’t have to leave,” was all his mouth allowed him to communicate.

“What?”

He cleared his throat in an attempt to make his voice sound louder, then restated, “you don’t have to go. You don’t have to Please don’t leave because of me.”

“What does that mean?” Yoongi asked, there was a hint of confusion in his tone. The usual confidence in his voice stripped away completely, “what does that even mean?”

“It means you don’t have to leave too.”

His voice broke and although he knew he was being selfish we didn’t want to drive anyone out of his life again.

Losing Joon was more than enough.

“Jimin, you don’t get to tell me that,” the older boy shook his head, sighing deeply, “I lost him too, you know. After 10 years of friendship he up and walked away from me, just because he didn't want to stand in the way of whatever it is we don’t even have.”

“I just-“ putting his erratic thoughts into words was growing harder and harder. A tennis-sized lump sat at his throat and his lips were as dried as the desert, “I’m just sorry about everything.”

Yoongi’s demeanor changed as he noticed a single tear falling down the younger’s puffy cheeks. A softer expression sitting on his features, “hey, you don’t have to apologize or even cry. I know Namjoon thought he was doing the right thing but he ran away because he wanted to, not because of you or even me. You understand that?”

Jimin nodded, wiping his tears away, “can we stop avoiding each other now?”

“Mhm,” was all he heard back, “I was never avoiding you. I just wanted to give you space.”

“Is that why you almost ran out of here?” he scoffed staring down at the older boy who remained by the door with a deathly grip on the handle, backpack slung on his shoulder.

Yoongi smirked, “I just really have to get back to my dorm.”

“Before you go can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead Jimin,” Yoongi responded now leaning against the door.

“What were your first thoughts that night?” Jimin searched the older eyes for an answer but there was nothing.

He was just so hard to read.

“Initially, I was excited, a bit nervous but I knew that from that moment on everything would change,” Yoongi admitted, taking a brief pause, “from stage I saw you among a crowd of people as if this like spotlight was set on you. I just needed to know who you were, and why we were paired up. Then, Joon introduced you as his boyfriend and everything changed. My heart was completely shattered and the worse part was I didn’t even really know you.”

Jimin never imagined things from Yoongi’s point of view, until that very moment. He felt his heart sink and although he never meant to hurt either Yoongi or Joon. Though, somehow he ended up being the one holding the knife that stabbed him in the back.

“I’m really sorry about everything, Yoongi,” because he genuinely was, “I never meant to hurt you in any way.”

“Stop doing that, Jimin” Yoongi expressed exasperatedly, “you don’t have to apologize for anything. What happened here was a cruel jest from destiny. None asked for us to be put in this situation and especially not you. What you and Joon had was special but now it’s over on his account, try to not let it get you down too much.”

“Well can I at least apologize one last time?” Jimin began, but continued speaking to prevent Yoongi from interrupting him, “I’m sorry I partially blamed you for all of this. Know those thoughts no longer reside in my head.”

“Don’t worry about it Jimin.”

“Do you think we could ever be friends?” he asked.

“What are you saying Jimin-ah, we already are,” in a swift movement, Yoongi opened the door and disappeared out of Jimin’s sight. The vibrant carmine hue no longer contributing livelihood to the dreary room.

And just for a second, Jimin missed the pop of color within his line of sight.

He thought, maybe red wasn’t so bad after all.

—-

The rather obnoxious booming of the blasting music pierced his tympanum, overwhelming his hearing completely. Jimin could feel the persistent beating of rap mix coursing through his body, his heart beating to the same rhythm. With just a hint of alcohol in his system and the blinding flashing multi-colored lights of the LED disco ball, Jimin could feel his head floating high on cloud nine. His body felt almost feather-like and his feet were entirely literally stepping on pillowy clouds, his chelsea boot no longer clacking on the hardwood floors as he stumbled down the hallway.

Despite his current state of intoxication, Jimin was keen on remaining hypervigilant with his surroundings. He recognized everything and everyone within his proximity in that narrow hallway. He’d spotted, Taehyng and Hobi sucking at each other’s faces just down the hallway near the foot of the opened back door. He’d noticed, his eldest friend and Joon’s old manager Jin leaning against the wall, red cup in hand presumably filled with beer; as he scrolled through his phone stultified. He’d acknowledged the mere faces of people he shared courses with this semester but was not too acquainted with.

One foot before the other. His brain repeated.

Good job, Jimin. That’s it.

One foot.

Then, the other. Over and over.

He coached himself as he devoted his undivided attention to guiding himself towards the exit leading to the backyard. His body craved a breath of fresh air away from the musky and shambolic frat house, as the combination of sweat and alcohol consumed his nostrils.

“Fuck!” Jimin cried out softly as his knees came in contact with the prickly yet freshly cut turf through the rips of his jeans.

“Jimin?” Yoongi’s grave voice neared and he wasn’t sure if the deep voice was the cause of the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, or if it was the cool midnight breeze, “Yoongi, is that you?” He exclaimed excitedly.

“You’re rather cheerful tonight,” Yoongi exclaimed taking a seat near him on the viridescent grass.

“Would you rather I mope all night instead?”

“No, you’re not as cute when you pout,” Yoongi pinched his cheek lightly, static electricity shocking him ever so slightly as his soft fingers met Jimin’s now rosy cheeks.

“I’m cute?” He asked.

“All the time,” Yoongi inched closer to him, their body heat colliding like a head-on vehicle crash. As a result, despite the late-night coolness his hands began to grow clammy as his body temperature rose, “has no one made you aware before?”

“Well, actually people have,” he slurred, their tipsiness just allowing whatever thought came to mind just flow out their mouth freely, “I just wanted to hear it again from you.”

“Are you flirting with me right now?”

“Is that ok?” Their eyes were fixated on the other and although they were sitting a mere five feet away from a party, it felt like they were the only two people there for miles.

Still, their dark chocolate eyes remained on one another.

“Can I ask you a weird question?” Jimin began, “what’s your favorite color, since well you know..?”

“I’ve never thought about it actually but there are some that stick out, you know, there's the bright amber of the sun that for some reason brings joy, the deep crimson of roses symbolizes love, the rich azure of the oceans wave bring serenity. The best color, though, is the roseate shade your cheeks display whenever I compliment you,” Yoongi dipped closer to Jimin’s face, his breath smelled of vodka and beer. Their noses are now just few centimeters away.

Jimin chuckled softly, in an attempt to ease the tension rising between both boys. Though, Yoongi’s eyes remained on him, intently taking in his every move, “You’re being corny, are you drunk Min Yoongi?”

“I may be tipsy but I never lie.”

His expression remained stern, a hint of sincerity laced in his low sonorous voice as he mumbled praises Jimin’s way.

“You know what your voice reminds me of?” Jimin began, attempting to find the right words, “it’s like the- li-like the illuminatingly blinding hues the sky adopts as the sun slowly rises, the hushful bass in your voice is soothing like the yellow and orange undertones of the early morning sky.”

Without a thought in mind, Jimin’s small fingers met Yoongi’s pillowy rosy pink lips. The old boys’ eyes followed his hands as quickly pulled away from the brief moment of weakness he’d let get the best of him.

“Yoongi,“ He pulled away, quickly regretting his lack of respect for the older’s personal space, “I-I’m sorry-“

“If I wouldn’t have wanted you to touch me I would’ve pulled away,” He confessed and Jimin could feel a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach as a response to Yoongi’s abrupt confession. “Though, who’s being corny now?”

Yoongi’s breath met his skin once again as he whispered his previous sentence in Jimin’s ear softly. Making the hair on the back of his neck stand, a glacial chill steadily moved down his spine, causing him to freeze up entirely.

“What’s wrong, Jimin?” His eyes darted towards Yoongi, who sat back against the white fence a devilish smirk plastered on his face, “you look like you’re having a hard time. Are you ok Jimin?”

“Y-you have no effect on Min,” Jimin mentally beat himself for stuttering at all but he’d hope Yoongi chucked it up to their tipsiness.

“I-is that right,” he mocked him.

Jimin narrowed his eyes in his direction, “you’re a fucking asshole.”

“-But you like me,” he interrupted, his bottom-glistening peachy lip tucked under his pearly-white teeth.

“Did that statement ever leave my mouth?”

“It might as well have,” Yoongi exclaimed. His glassy brown orbs dipped with just a bit of lust calling out for Jimin desperately and like a snake to a pied piper, Jimin was seconds away from falling to command.

Holy fuck.

Jimin just wanted to fall into the burning desire ignited in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to allow both of their lips to choreograph a majestic love sway against one another.

But he held back and sucked at his teeth instead. He refused to give Min Yoongi the satisfaction of winning,

“Never.“

“Never?” He asked an eyebrow raised and Jimin knew he’d take his defiance as a challenge.

Jimin was up and the bit of booze still in his system directing his feet away from the older who remained on the grass. He looked back, only to meet Yoongi’s gaze, still intently on him, “We’ll just see about that, Park Jimin.”

—

A week ago Jimin danced with the devil and nearly fell into his tricks of temptation during that damned Halloween party. And though he didn’t loathe the temptress, he’d felt frantic with anxiousness about actually falling in love with Min Yoongi.

What others would think about him liking his ex-boyfriend's, best friend.

How he could still possibly hurt Namjoon despite the distance between them.

Jimin ignored his jitteriness and slaughtered the butterflies flying at his stomach. Although he wanted to comply with his heart, his brain continuously reprimanded him at the emergence of thought surrounding the dark-haired rapper, his enchanting grave voice, inviting pink lips, and delectable veiny hands.

He liked Min Yoongi. And he’d decided that a while ago but his guilt-written thoughts made it impossible to ignore the menacing tear at his heart and the lump in the back of his throat whenever he dreamt about Yoongi’s hand in his.

“I called Yoongi to help you stock the shelves while you manage the register. He’s punching in now,” Mr. Kim, his boss, and the owner of the campus convenience store informed as he grabbed his jacket from a chair behind the front counter, “will you two be OK?”

Why would he ask that?

“Well be fine Mr. Kim. Don’t worry about us.”

Jimin must’ve spaced off because as Mr. Kim approach the front door ready to exit, his thoughts were brought back by his boss’ voice, “Jimin are you alright?” Concern was written all over his features.

“I’m just a bit stressed with school is all,” He lied. His thoughts wandered back to his predestined soulmate and the man he’d spend the remaining 3-hours of his shift with. However, Jimin decided his boss did not need to be burdened with the details and complications behind his complex yet non-existent love life, “Take care, Mr. Kim. Have a good night.”

Mr. Kim waved him off as he exited the store and entered his car.

“Is he gone already? I was gonna ask him something. Fuck.” His deliciously enticing, his tone calling the hair on Jimin’s arm to stand up instantly.

“You just missed him.”

That’s great Jimin, just keep avoiding eye contact. Just 2-hours and 50-minutes to go.

He could do this.

He couldn’t do this

Jimin hadn’t seen Yoongi for two weeks and although he urged himself to focus on his phone, the congested sidewalk right outside the glass window, or even the CCTV monitor; he just couldn’t.

His eyes wandered off every so often taking brief glimpses of the older boy completely enamored by this aura. He wore a white shirt, sported in conjunction with claret velvet tracksuit bottoms. The rich shade stands out in comparison to his porcelain skin tone taking Jimin’s breath away.

“You’re staring,” Yoongi cleared his throat, his eyes remained on the inventory he was assigned to take care of for the night.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

Jimin scoffed. Though, consciously coming to terms with his inevitable attraction to Yoongi’s condescending tone.

“At least I’m not a stalker,” Yoongi’s stare was stern, his lips carving an annoying yet very attractive smirk. “and you  are so full of yourself.”

“Is that why you keep staring at me?” He’d interrupted.

Jimin rolled his eyes in an attempt to disguise his feelings. He tried. But the blazing desire in Jimin’s eyes was evident. His vision remained intent on Yoongi’s figure, as he leaned on the shelf, the ramen inventory was long forgotten and his rich dark chocolate eyes gazed right back at the cashier.

“I’ll answer that when you tell me how you’ve managed to be at every place I’ve been to for the past month,” he snickered, “stalker.”

“Who’s the one full of themselves now?” His tongue pressed against his cheek.

“That’s not an answer!”

“Well, you didn’t answer me first and don't  pretend as if you’d be opposed to the idea,” Yoongi slowly inched closer to Jimin from across the front counter. The younger heart halted as he was now mere inches away from his designated soulmate.

“W-what idea,” he stammered. Every once of confidence he once possessed now fleeing his body.

“Seeing me around every other day.”

“It’s a sour start to my day.” Jimin’s eyes diverted from Yoongi to the young couple who had entered the store in search of some late-night snacks. Yoongi returned to his previous place near the shelves, now at a distance from the cashier as he waited for the bell on top of the front door to chime indicating the twosome had exited.

“Most sour things eventually turn sweet.”

Endearing.

That was the appropriate adjective to summarize Yoongi. Because no matter what he said, his words always managed to make Jimin’s heart flutter.

Thump. Thump. His heart sang continuously and his chest ached at the deep crescendo.

“Have you and Hobi thought about performing as a duo for the time being?” He diverted the conversation in an attempt to ignore the yearning tune looping at his heart.

“I don’t know Jimbles. Namjoon was the creator of Triptych. I’m not sure it’s right that we go on without him.”

Jimbles. The pet name lingered making him a bit light-headed but he managed to remain composed. Somehow.

“Do you just plan to give up on music?”

Yoongi shrugged.

That was not the answer he was looking for. He couldn’t imagine a world where Yoongi wasn’t on stage performing, the tranced crowds going wild as he spits his poetic rhymes into the mic.

“You can’t just give up because he left or do you plan to work at a corner store for the rest of your life?”

“Are those words directed towards Hobi and I or yourself too?”

“You guys mostly. Maybe,” Jimin fessed, “they’re words we could both need to reflect on right now. Don’t you think?”

“Do you miss him at all?” The question was randomly blurted out taking Jimin by surprise. The massive void, Joon’s absence had once created in his heart is now gone entirely. The weeping Balad once looped within the walls of his heart was tuned off slowly. Though, the scars remained the feeling of love has ceased and he could feel his wounds beginning to heal.

Jimin - still - cared about Namjoon, he did. However, he’d finally decided he shed one too many tears for someone who gave up on them so easily.

“I do sometimes. I miss his smile the most,“ he admitted, “I just hope he’s healing and finding happiness where ever he may be.”

“This is a different Jimin from the one I met at that library a while back.”

“I’ve healed.”

“Does that mean you’re finally ready to move on?”

— Finally —

The word was permanently imprinted in his brain. Why was there a glimmer of hope tinted behind his words?

— Finally —

“Yes, I am.”

“And if someone asked you on a dat-“

“My answer is yes, Yoongi. I would love to go on a date with you.”

Yoongi stared back at him intently. His dark orbs dripped with intense desire. Being under his intimidating gaze Jimin felt as if Yoongi was steadily removing each garment leaving him in complete nakedness. Bare and vulnerable for his eyes only.

“Do you mean that?”

“I wouldn’t be saying it if I didn’t.” He played with the sleeves of his oversized fluffy cerulean blue sweater.

“Let’s go tonight. Right after work,” Yoongi’s rose-tinted lips glistened as he swiped his tongue across them.

“I would love that.”

- 

- 

-

Chapter Text

Nothing.

That was all Namjoon felt. More than nothing. A shallow hole sitting substitute right where his heart used to be. The rhythmic beating of his blood pumping organ was replaced by silence and Jimin’s love filled tune which once looped within him and graced his life with amore disappeared in the matter of seconds.

His breath remained hitched at his throat and often times he’d found himself having to take deep breathes just to feel his airway clear-up and still nothing could relieve the pinching pain constantly aching at his chest. His eyes were red and swollen as day-by-day tears would escape his eyes profusely.

Memories of Seoul remained and a throbbing headache emerged as thoughts of his love of 730 days lingered.

He felt nothing.

He was nothing.

Just another soulmate-less fool with a broken heart. Before, at least, he lived in solace held tightly by Jimin’s loving embrace. But now, ever since that day, his faithful companion was loneliness and the stillness of his 495 ft² studio apartment in Busan. The solitude consumed him as the colorless lines of his everyday life just reminded him of the boy his heart yearned for once upon a time.

His Jimin.

His infectious laugh.
His plump pillowy lips.
His crescent eyes which slightly disappeared whenever a smile was carved on his precious face.
His breed cheeks whenever a compliment was uttered in his direction.

He missed |him|. Everyday, he spent in this foreign city, he missed him more and more.

His Jimin.

His passion for dance and the way his body knew how to interpret any song so intricately.
His compassion for the well-being of others.
His kindness to even the tiniest of ants.

›

“Hey, do you mind of I take a seat right here?” Before Namjoon stood a boy, anxiously fidgeting with the strap of his backpack. His crescentic orbs staring at him intently as he bit his full lips. He motioned to the seat right across from Joon.

“Sure.”

“Thank you,” he sat.

Namjoon looked around taking a mental count of at least 4 vacant tables the wildly stunning boy across him could’ve chosen from. Yet still, he chose his, “Im Namjoon,”

“I know-” he began, his eyes widening at the realization of letting his mouth speak before filtering his words, “Not I know, in like a weird or creepy way. I’m not a stalker.”

“I wasn-”

But his soft-angelic voice had interrupted Joon once again, “not that you should have a reason to think that I’m a stalker. I just, I- uh, I recognize you from our theatre class.”

“I’ve never seen you.”
He would remember if he did.

“I prefer the back seats.”
“So what’s your name, back seat?”

He giggled, a sound so heavenly, it played like a soft ballad in his ear, looping over and over again.

“Jimin, my name is Jimin.”

In Jimin’s eyes Joon could read a desperate plea for their ability to just emerge any second now. Hours passed and as they grew fond of each-other, both boys were enthralled in each other’s company nothing ever came from their interaction and their dull and discolored surroundings remained.

They were not made for each other, but they sure felt like they were.

›

That day, in the back of his mind Joon knew crystal clear that he should’ve let Jimin go. He knew the bold black lines composed of their everyday lives remained the tauntingly bland hue of white and no matter how fond they grew of each other nothing would ever change that.

Life had made its course and no matter how many times they professed their love from the highest of mountain tops, they were not made for each other.

They were not made for eachother.

They weren’t.
Why were they so stubborn?

›

“Joon?” the sight before Jimin was breathtaking. His colorless dormitory adorned with life though it remained in black and white. This bay window had the blinds completely drawn and thr only force of light illuminating the room were attested to the moon and the dozen candles lit around around his window ledge, drawers and bookshelves. A seemingly dark blanket laid out in the middle of the room, and on top there were numerous snacks from chocolate covered strawberries to the wide variety of all his favorite drinks, chips and cookies. “Joonie? Did you do all of this?”

“I just figured since our first date was interrupted by Taehyung and Hobi’s impromptu proposal, I should really make it up to you,” he exhaled quickly after as he felt his breath hitch at his throat. Joon’s heart raced uncontrollably, feeling a bit constricted against the walls of his chest, “plus I know you have you physics final tomorrow so I figured we could mash up studying and our date and get the best of both worlds.”

Jimin was awestruck, left speechless at the creativity of Joon’s romantic gesture.

“This is amazing Joon,” Jimin dropped his heavy bag near his door and slowly walked up to the older boy, “let’s just hope Tae and Hoba don’t decide to spontaneously adopt a dog or even child today.”

“Don’t worry. I gave the lovebirds our tickets to the theater. We should be good for at least the next two hours.”

“The theater?” Jimin pouted at the thought of seeing Joon all dressed up.

“I know. I wanted to go to however-” Namjoon sat on the blanket and patted the empty spot next to him, “you have a final and I happen to be ridiculously good at physics.”

“This is sweet of you Joon,” Jimin accompanied him on the floor, “but I feel awful ruining your night like this. You should be out enjoying you’re night not stuck in here with me.”

“You’re here Jimin. This is exactly where I wanna be,” His words were laced with tenderness and Jimin could feel himself growing light-headed. He could feel himself crumbling under Joon’s intense gaze his dark
orbs glistening under the flickering luminescence of the candles.

Kim Namjoon.
His name now tattooed permanently on Jimin’s heart.

“Stop it, Joon. You might actually make me fall for you.” His cheeks began to heat up and at that moment in time he was glad neither him or Joon could see color or else he’d be entirely embarrassed at the shade his cheeks emitted.

“That’s the plan.”

Jimin averted looking into Joon’s eyes, terrified that the older could procure the master key to his heart with minimal effort.

“How about this. If I’m able to secure an A on this exam, I owe you a night at the theater, my treat.”

“Deal.”

›

The blaring rumble of the thunder outside snapped Namjoon right out of his thoughts. His mind finally being taken away from the only man who occupied it night and day. The intensity of the storm caused the lights in his apartment to flicker continuously as the pitter-patter of the heavy downpour beat aggressively at his bedroom window.

He had to admit the sound of the rain against glass pervaded the ambiance within thin walls of his apartment. A wave of serenity washed over him as the sonnet the rain composed continued to play. The distinctive song consumed his senses and he felt lost in his own world.

Floating in mid-air until he remembered |he| too loved the rain.

‘C’mon Joon,’ He’d remember Jimin’s swaying his hips as he danced around in the rain like a ballerina at a recital. His rain slickened hair now sticking to his face as he spun around continuously. Jimin looked like a dream even under the heavy downfall. A scene he will cherish in his heart forever. Though, he knew he would never be able to enjoy the feeling of the cool mizzle on his skin the same way again. |He’d| always be present in the back of his mind even in the gloomiest of days, ‘come on, the rain won’t kill you’

Jimin’s glacéd murmur felt tauntingly near and if he didn’t know any better he’d assume that his previous lover was right there in the room with him.

“The rain didn’t kill me but our destinies sure did, Jiminie,” he uttered to no one in particular, the pale walls surrounding him bare witness to the his inevitable demise, as he wailed uncontrollably. His heart still yearning for the boy he so easily left behind.

—

14 days.

That’s the amount of time it took Joon to hastily bandage his heart as he grew determined to somehow, some way, get past this depressive stump. However, his thoughts never failed to drive him down an avenue of memories with him. But before he could ever reach him he was always led to an intersection one labeled heartbreak and the other selfishness. No matter which path he steered down there wasn’t a destination which spared him or his feelings.

Heartache was still synonymous to his emotions, and he’d figured exploring nature usually helped him clear his mind. So he sat on the park bench watching as the tint-less fall leaves abandoned the branches they’d called home for the duration of summer.

His lyric notebook sat at his lap as he stared back at the blank page dumbfounded. Every ounce of inspiration had been drained from him weeks ago the moment he left Jimin alone that Friday afternoon. The mountain of lyrics which resided in his mind was vast. It’s peak kissed the fluffiest of clouds in the expansive sky and for the first time in his life he was petrified to climb it. He stood motionless at the base, despite urging his feet to take a step towards the slope. His stature remained and he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to climb that mountain again.

Namjoon groaned brushing his calloused hands over his face. Finally he sighed and stood from the secluded bench walking to the nearest waste bin and disposing of the journal he’d used to express every mood he’d felt ever since he was 13-years old.

He let go. For now.

—

The gleaming rays of the late autumn moon invaded Namjoon’s bedroom through the opened blinds. The luminary crescent in the starry filled sky serving as a stark of light at the end if a pitch black tunnel. For the first time in a while his memories of Seoul were not followed by sour thoughts and tears.

He had no one here in Busan. In the congested sidewalks this foreign city had to offer the only thing he was granted was solitude. The last string of his sanity was threaded with the knowledge that his friends back home at this very moment, just like him, all laid under the same midnight sky.

They were together although they were cities apart.

Meddlesome thought’s lingered and he’d immediately found himself entertaining the idea of possibly going back home to Seoul. He wanted to. He really fucking wanted to. But the thought of his friends prying pitied looks caused him an immense shudder. In the back of his mind, he also knew a month was not enough time to give Jimin and Yoongi, the space they needed to begin writing the narrative of their love without having guilt written glances casted his way.

Busan was where he needed to be. He’d incessantly told himself.

“This is where I belong,” he murmured, hastily wiping the piping hot tear that rolled down his cheek.

“Hey-” an unfamiliar voice began, startling Joon entirely as he stared quizzically at the blank wall where the voice derived, “are you doing ok?”

“What th-?” Namjoon examined his vacant surroundings apprehensively, determining he’d grown insane and finally lost his mind entirely.

A glacial shiver ran down his back as the enchanting voice continued to strum at his ear drum.

He was definitely dreaming.

“Sorry if I startled you. I didn’t mean to scare you,” The mellow timbre of the strangers voice caused the hairs in the back of Joon’s neck to stand. The soothing tone dipped in a light and bright dazzle, radiating the heat Joon felt on numerous July afternoons he’d spent under the blazing hot mid-summer sun.

He didn’t know much about color personally, however in Hobi’s intricate detailing of certain tones. He knew this guy’s voice matched the under-stones of a soft amber shade.

“I just heard you crying a lot these past couple of weeks,” He’d proceeded, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but the walls here are thin.”

“A-are you real?”

Silence fell through the ill-lit flat. Before the saccharine voice continued hauntingly gracing his reality.

“I’m pretty sure I’m real. If I were anything but I’d need a really big refund from our landlord” Sarcasm, Joon liked that.

“So you’re a ghost but you still pay rent?” Joon followed the boys voice and station himself near it on his bed, this way he felt like he wasn’t just talking to the walls, “that’s pretty noble.”

“You’re funny,” The faceless stranger exclaimed, “pretty different from how I’ve gotten to know you these past few weeks.”

“That.”

“Yes,” Joon heard him clear his throat, “I’ve been meaning to ask though, are you ok now? You seemed really sad.”

“I’m sorry. I just- uh,” He was in a mental debate, trying to decide if the thesis to his heartbreak would be an ideal topic to go in-depth with a stranger, “I went through a situation recently but I feel really bad for keeping you up. Please let me make it up to you. Somehow.”

“There’s no need neighbor and please stop apologizing. I was just a bit concerned about a stranger.”

Joon’s hands grew clammy as he recounted the many nights he’d fallen asleep in tears unbeknownst that he’d been disturbing those around him. A great addition to the pile of self pity and shame.

“No please, it’s not fine at all. I disturbed what was supposed to be your peaceful time at home with all of my crying,” He sighed as he toyed with the silver rings on his slender fingers feeling abashed, “I am truly and deeply sorry.”

“Stop apologizing hyung. I can be loud sometimes too you know.”

“Really? I haven’t heard you once since I moved in.” Joon furrowed his eyebrows calling the boy’s bluff.

“Well not up until now but I will be soon, maybe.”

“I’ll look forward to the day you finally decide to get even.”

A velvety giggle escaped the boys lips on the other side of the paper-thin achromatic wall. A sound so intoxicating Joon began feeling faint, as it continuously vibrated at his tympanum creating a sweet melody, “I’m Jungkook by the way, hyung.”

“I’m Namjoon-” Joon sneered, “did you just call me hyung? Twice? Are you insinuating I’m old?”

“Maybe, a little. How old are you?”

“24.”

“22,” he shared in a mocking tone, “I was right hyung.”

Unlike, every other solitary night Joon spent consumed by sorrow he’d finally begin to find peace within the tight knit enclosure of his small apartment. For the first time since he set foot in Busan, he’d felt a warm blanket wrap around him protecting him from the frigid atmosphere once and for all.
—

“So are you ever going to tell me what happened to you?” Jungkook inquired as Joon heard him munching on something on the other side of the wall.

He sat with his back up against cold wall, in the exact position he was when they met just two weeks ago for the first time. Since then somehow they always managed to encounter each other in the same exact way every night. With Jungkook’s hectic school and work schedule they’ve never gotten around to meet face-to-face, even though they literally lived right next door to each other. Joon had always meant to thank Jungkook for his kind words and concern, that night, over coffee but the younger was never home during the early hours of the afternoon.

“It’s almost 1am. Are you sure you want to hear a sad story this late?”

“Only if you wanna share.”

“I suppose you deserve to know the reason why I kept you from sleeping on countless night,” He cleared his throat, the massive lump that once restricted his airway at the mere thought of Jimin was no longer present.

Then, he began recounting the story from beginning to end sparing Jungkook no detail. The younger sat at his apartment attentively listening to Joon as he continued pouring out the melancholy narrative that changed his life forever. Finally, allowing himself to cope with everything that happened ever since that day; the day Jimin was written off his life forever.

“With you’re best friend?” Jungkook asked cutting deep into the silence that had fallen between them as soon as Joon concluded his retelling of the events.

“Yes. Yoongi and I have been best friends for nearly ten years now.”

“Fuck,” his usually joyous tone now replaced by a soft murmurs that cracked as he continued, “no wonder you cried every night.”

“Jungkook? are you crying?”

“No,” he sniffled, “have you heard from them since?”

That very question sat heavy on his shoulders ever since he left Seoul behind him. He knew in the back of his mind that Jimin would never forgive him for walking out of his life so abruptly. His past-lover would never forgive him for leaving him behind so easily.

He’d only hope that his decade long friendship with Yoongi could prevail this. Hopefully.

But he hadn’t heard from either of them. He wasn’t sure that he could expect them to reach out either.

“No. I haven’t heard from them since but I get it. They need space,” Namjoon felt an eerie nimbostratus cloud closing within his strained thoughts. A storm rumbling loudly, “I certainly do not expect Jimin to.”

“Have you reached out?”

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips, “Why would I? They needed space and I honestly did too.”

“Just don’t be so hard on yourself hyung OK?” Joon hummed, “you did what you thought fit best in a tough situation. And it was quite brave of you to sacrifice your feelings like that for the people you cared about the most.”

“Thank you Jungkook. Not just for today but for being such a great friend these past couple weeks.”

“I’m glad that I was able to provide a metaphorical shoulder for you to cry on.”

Joon chuckled, “I still have to you get you coffee or something.”

“Midterms are coming up this week and then I’m all yours hyung.”

“I look forward to it Jungkookie.”
—

Day after day that following week was bitter rather than sweet. Each passing day beginning Monday all the way through Friday were composed of a rather uneventful hours. Serenity, quietude and loneliness. Though, be enjoyed the peace and quiet, after day three Joon felt like he’d go out of his mind during the lonely afternoons and quiet soundless nights.

Jungkook was super busy with midterms and his job and he’d often left during the early hours of dawn and would not return until the late hours closer to midnight.

“Jungkook you awake?” Joon called out when he heard the younger enter his apartment on that Thursday night.

“Mhm?” He hummed in return, his voice dipped with drowsiness.

“Is tomorrow your last final?”

“Yeah.” He simply stated.

Joon knew he was being selfish in keeping him up, but, he had to ask one final question before letting Jungkook go for the night, “Have you eaten today Jungkook? I ordered some fried chicken. I can bring some over?”

“I had a couple of snacks at work Joon. I’m full,” he said, “thanks for asking though, how about we save that fried chicken date for tomorrow if you’re up for it.”

“Date?”

“Yes, like friends date,” he followed, “only if you’re up for it though.”

“Of course I am,” Namjoon quickly added, almost too quickly, “my place or yours?”

“Yours. Mine looks an absolute wreck after this hectic week.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Silence fell through as both boys fell into a deep slumber.
—

All Friday morning Joon felt jittery as the thought of finally meeting Jungkook face-to-face invaded his thoughts entirely making him tipsy in the process. He could sense a kaleidoscope of butterflies camped at his stomach making him lose his appetite entirely.

Instead though, he cleaned and cleaned and cleaned some more. Leaving not a crevice in the entire apartment untouched.

The entire place almost sparkled before he plopped down on his bed absolutely tired from all the tidying up he’d decided to do although his apartment wasn’t even dirty to begin with.

5:30pm
He read on the clock mounted to his wall. Just two hours to-go, time sped by and his palms grew clammy at the thought of 7:30pm nearing so quickly.

He closed his eyes as he felt a wave of anguish wash over him, a weight sat at chest and he knew there were a million ways he could fuck this up. He talked to Jungkook on countless nights but the wall that sat in-between them served as protection, put in place to spare his feelings if anything went south between the two boys.

He hadn’t been in the present of anyone in so long, he’d thought, the air in the complex growing muggy and he could feel his throat closing up.

He didn’t want to fuck this up.
—

90 minutes remained and Joon hastily exited his apartment building to the convenience store a bit farther from home deciding he’d needed a bit of fresh air.

The crisp end of October air swooshed swiftly at his face and he snuggled deeper into his jacket. Joon eyed the subtle Halloween baubles displayed around the neighborhood. Jack-o-lanterns and carved pumpkins decorated peoples front steps. The scene definitely differed from the gory decorations he’d experienced back in Seoul.

Joon also tended to celebrate the holiday excitedly by Jimin’s side for the past two years. They had made it their own tradition to dress-up in couples costumes and attended a campus party or two but all of that was over now. However, things were different this year. His only plan for October 31st involved engulfing an unhealthy amount of sweets and streaming horror movies none stop for the entire night.

Finally, after a ten minute walk he reached the convenience store and quickly made his way into the brightly lit establishment. He huffed warm air into his palms as as they had numbed due to the chilly weather. By the front desk the cashier took care of line swiftly as he continues to cash everyone out.

“Good evening,” The boy behind the desk called out not sparing him a single glance. He was busy, Joon understood.

“Good evening,” he replied already making his way towards the back desperately taking guesses at snacks he thought his neighbor would enjoy. Not having spent time with Jungkook previously, made this process extremely hard. Though, he vaguely remembers the younger expressing his love for chocolate so he grabbed a variety of those not knowing which one Jungkook preferred.

With full hands and having worked up a sweat during his shopping endeavors, Joon slowly made his way to the register. The store remained congested with students as they buzzed around in their uniforms grabbing snacks, conversations with friends remaining, laughter erupted filing the atmosphere. The scene brought back memories of Seoul and with a healed heart and self-assurance, he decided in that very moment he would make his way back to Hobi, Tae, Yoongi, Jimin and Jin. Sooner than later. In the mist of the tumultuous ambience a rather familiar voice lingering at his tympanum.

It ringed at his ear like a song, a tune he was all too accustomed to though he couldn’t quite make out a face for the eclectic tone.

Though, he continued at his steady pace, still holding on tightly at the items in his hands.

“Have you seen the cashier here?” A high-school girl squealed to her friends as they walked past Joon.

“Yes! His tattoos are so hot.”

The older shook his head as he sneaked a quick glance at the cashier several feet from him. His messy dark locs draped over his forehead, his lip piercing shone under the bright lights of the convenience store, and the permanent ink canvassing his arm peaked out under the sleeves of his over-sized crew neck.

Suddenly, Joon could hear the intense beating of his heart. The thumping chimed at his ears continuously as the voices around him became muffled. A burst of invasive yet faint tinges immersed in his line of vision before everything changed back to black and white.

All of the items he once held in his hands hit the ground in slow motion. He glanced around frantically before anyone could notice the mess he’d made and quickly exited the convenience store.

What the fuck?
He thought.
Who the fuck was that?
—

The light knocking on the door snapped Joon right out of his trance. After running home, Joon’s mind was all mingled up as he remained unable to form a single coherent thought.

A mental debate continued at his mind as he grew unsure if he should ever set foot in that convenience store again.

After the past events of life he wasn’t sure he was made for love. Life had fooled with him one too many times.

“Joon?” Jungkook called from the hallway, “are you there?”

“Yes, I’m coming.”

“You would not believe what some asshole did at work today-” Jungkook began as Joon pulled open the door, “he dropped everything in the middle of the store and just ran out. Ugh! I didn’t even get a good look at him.”

The threshold stood between them as their eyes met for the first time ever. Vibrant pigments danced around them as both boys stood in silence taking each-other in, awestruck at the realization destiny had put in their lives.

“You,” Joon murmured. “It’s you.”
—

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