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There's a slight breeze that fiddles through Seokjin's bangs with the warm touch of a mother. He closes his eyes and let's the beginning of the summer warmth soothe his nerves, except it doesn't work. His hand still feels heavy where it rests on Princess' small head, fingers scratching behind the ferret's ears.
Slowly, he opens his eyes to the scenery beyond them. It's the last day of school, students are rushing below the green hill he sits on with excitement, loud yells and laughter can be heard all the way here. Seokjin sits on his trunk, waiting for Namjoon and something else he isn't quite sure of. Maybe he's waiting for his brain to properly process everything. Maybe he's waiting for the heavy feeling in his chest to go away, that heavy feeling that's been lounging in an empty cavern ever since Christmas.
He stops his train of thought, and shakes his head slightly to rid them away. He would hate to burst out into a wave of tears right here, right now. He can save that for later.
Princess stirs in Seokjin's lap as a particularly loud thud emerges from behind them. His head whips in the direction of the castle, eyes settling on the massive open doors that seem to be never-endingly tall. He sees how a couple are hugging each other like the world is about to go under in the doorway, and feels as though he should tear his eyes away from them, but he can't bring himself to do it. The two boys, a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw, look so incredibly comfortable with themselves, carefree and happy. Everyone at school knows who they are, their relationship one of the cutest to have ever been produced at Hogwarts. Seokjin has seen them around quite a few times. Mark and Jinyoung, he thinks they're named.
"Hey," comes a breathy voice, and it jerks Seokjin back to his own reality. He looks up to see Namjoon smiling at him, a hand resting in the front pocket of his jeans, the other dragging his large trunk. Black Jack treads a couple of feet behind Namjoon, the black cat smelling yellow flowers with a soft excitement.
"Hi," Seokjin greats back, his eyes going back to the young couple. They can't be older than Seokjin, maybe even a couple years younger. Namjoon follows his gaze.
"Jinnie-"
"Look how comfortable they are," Seokjin says before Namjoon can even continue. "It must feel great. To be accepted and be so carefree." He feels how his voice starts to waver with venom and how the back of his eyes sting as he desperately tries to keep the tears in.
Namjoon stands still, not answering Seokjin's unvoiced question.
When can we feel like that?
Seokjin knows there isn't an answer to the question. He doesn't know if there ever will be an answer.
A moment passes, maybe two, where it's just the wind that dares to move between them, and the happiness that surrounds the young couple by the doors is the only emotion that swerves in the air. There's no emotion around Seokjin, as if a barricade has sectioned off his emotions.
Another moment passes before Namjoon finally says something.
"C'mon, we have to catch the train before it leaves," and he holds out a hand for Seokjin to take, but Seokjin chooses to stand up by himself, to pick his trunk up by himself, and to walk by himself. He needs a little more time. Or maybe a lot.
The walk to the platform is quiet, save for the sound of students doing a bit of last minute rough housing behind them. Seokjin feels how Namjoon wants to say something, but nothing is said until the train is well on it's way to London.
"Jinnie," Namjoon starts, but Seokjin continues to look out at the flashing green scenery. They've managed to get a compartment all to themselves, much to Seokjin's dismay. He hates that this talk has to happen. He hates how for the past six months he's been treading around Namjoon like he's walking on eggshells in the middle of the night. But most of all, he hates how alone he feels.
"Jinnie." The nickname feels like a heavy knock against closed doors, and Seokjin hates how his body responds on its own accord. His eyes go against his command and glance at Namjoon. He really wishes he hadn't, because Namjoon is painfully beautiful, especially in the warm summer light that shines through the compartment window. His face is all bright features and contrasting shadows, harshness and softness all the same, and it breaks Seokjin's heart how the pained look on Namjoon's face looks. "You have to talk to me, Jin."
Seokjin's heart breaks a little more because yes, I have to talk to you, but no, I can't talk to you. He lowers his head just to show Namjoon he's listening, and his gaze sets on the folded hands in Namjoon's lap. He knows all too well how those hands feel - coarse and bigger than Seokjin's, despite Namjoon being two years younger, yet soft and gentle all the same. He hasn't held those hands in so long.
"I-" Seokjin starts, throat stiff and voice scratchy, "I don't know where to begin," he continues in a whisper, hands fiddling in his lap. "I-It's hard... to cope with." Seokjin tries to keep his breath steady but it's hard. The stinging feeling behind his eyes is back, this time accompanied by a harsh lump in his throat. He's been dreading this moment for the last six months. Really, he should be able to talk to Namjoon about this, because after all, Namjoon is going through the same thing. Except Namjoon still has his father. "It makes me angry," Seokjin finds himself saying, louder this time, his nails digging small crescents into the palm of his hand. "It makes me angry that you still get to go home to your dad's, that you still have a home, whilst I've been kicked to the curb like an unwanted kitchen rat. I'm angry because I'm all alone, because my parents have decided just like that, that I'm suddenly not their son anymore, that they don't love me anymore." Seokjin feels how the ferret next to him nuzzles her head into his thigh, a brave attempt to comfort her owner. Seokjin's hand automatically finds the spot behind her ears and scratches, more to calm himself down. It doesn't work.
"Jin-"
"And don't you dare say that they still love me, because if they really did, I wouldn't be sitting here, bawling my eyes out at being abandoned for loving someone. I feel wronged, Namjoon, for so many reasons." Seokjin feels how the hot tears don't stop even after his rant is over. His chest is heaving as he tries to breathe without sobbing entirely. He looks at Namjoon, expecting something, anything, but nothing happens. "How?" he sobs, "How can mothers be so shocked and horrified to hear that their son is in love? How can she send a Howler telling me she never wants to see my tainted face ever again?" Desperation has filled his voice, a whisper begging for Namjoon to somehow answer. "How can she stop loving me?"
Seokjin can't see Namjoon's face, eyes blurry with tears, but he feels him move to sit next to him, to cradle him with care and love. Seokjin doesn't know when or how, but he finds himself sobbing into Namjoon's chest, fists curling around the fabric of Namjoon's thin shirt, incoherent words slipping from his lips. Seokjin hates how useless and pathetic he feels. His parents no longer love him, they no longer care for him, so in retrospect, he shouldn't be crying about this, because why should he care about someone who doesn't care for him?
Yet, he cries, and cries, and cries, more than he's ever let himself cry before. He envelopes in the warmth Namjoon as to offer, and barely registers the second set of tears that fall onto his shoulder.
That night, and for the rest of the summer, Seokjin sleeps in Namjoon's bed at Namjoon's fathers house, thankful that at least someone doesn't mind them loving each other.