Work Text:
Neoui nun ko ip
Nal manjideon ne songil
Jageun sontopkkaji da~
Yoongi paused at the doorway of the dance studio, listening to the faint leftovers of the stranger's voice slipping between the cracks between the door and the doorframe, weaving like ribbons into his rapidly melting heart. Through the thin rectangular window, he could barely make out a figure sitting cross-legged on the polished studio floor, back to the mirrors so all Yoongi could see of his reflection was silky dark hair and sweat-drenched white tank top, glistening neck and beautifully muscled arms.
He took a deep breath, his hand turning the knob in one swift motion before he could second-guess, and pushed the door open.
Neoui nun ko ip
Nal manjideon ne songil
Jageun sontopkkaji da~
Yoongi pauses at the doorway of the recording studio, listening to the faint leftovers of a distant memory slip between his fingers. It's a voice he doesn't recognize, a voice that doesn't weave ribbons and melt his heart. Through the thin rectangular window, he can see a figure standing at the microphone, light brown hair sticking out of a red beanie, neatly pressed denim shirt and artistic, slender hands.
He sighs in disappointment, stepping away from the door. His hand slips off the doorknob.
What were you thinking, Yoongi? He chides himself. It's not him.
It can't be him.
Your eyes, nose, lips
Your touch that used to touch me,
to the ends of your fingertips~
The stranger heard him the moment the door creaked open, and immediately stopped singing. Yoongi's footsteps sounded like roaring echoes in the heavy silence as he carefully made his way to the stranger, as if approaching an easily frightened animal, afraid it would flee at any given moment.
Without intending to, the sole of his Jordan squeaked against the floor. The still-sitting boy tensed. Yoongi silently cursed his shoes to the moon and back.
"Please don't run away," Yoongi said quietly, stopping a foot shy of the person who still had his back to him.
"I won't." The boy's voice was slightly high-pitched, and sweet. It was barely audible but friendly and trusting. He stood up and turned to face Yoongi. "I think I've seen you somewhere before?"
Yoongi sucked in a breath.
He had bright, crinkled eyes, smooth cheekbones and a chiseled jawline that hinted at an almost self-destructive workout program. His full pink lips were turned up in a way that was warm and taunting at the same time. His hair - that looked even silkier from the front - was parted in the middle and swept to the sides, with stray strands forming a sweaty haze over his eyes.
Yoongi had definitely seen him from somewhere.
Your eyes, nose, lips
Your touch that used to touch me,
to the ends of your fingertips~
Just as Yoongi is about to turn and leave, the door creaks open and the singer steps out, pulling his red beanie off his sweaty hair. He notices Yoongi immediately, and his eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, hello. Were you waiting your turn? I tried not to run late again this time, but if I did-"
Yoongi cuts him off swiftly. "What's your name?"
He blinks. Yoongi can tell he is slightly offended. Frankly, he doesn’t care. “Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”
Yoongi nods. “Tell me, Jungkook, have you ever been in love?”
Jungkook frowns, pushing his bangs off his forehead. They’re dyed a color that compliments him, Yoongi notices with a dull impassiveness. After him, after the breathless singing in the dance studio, nothing has interested him very much. “No.”
The fact that he’s said it so surely makes Yoongi respect him. It also explains the lack of other in his singing, emptiness in the place of twisting sonic ribbons. “No wonder you can’t sing the song properly.”
Instead of looking offended, Jungkook only nods in acceptance. He must get that a lot, Yoongi thinks. “I can hear it when I listen to the playback. I think… I shouldn’t sing it until I’ve had the experience, right?”
Yoongi nods, turning his back to Jungkook. “Once you fall in love, sing the song again and you’ll know.”
“You’re… him,” Yoongi stammered. “The boy who almost died.”
He smiled, sad and empty but genuine. He didn’t seem like someone who would ever fake a smile. “I’m surprised you can see me.” He said that as if he had already died, while extending a hand. “I’m Park Jimin.”
Yoongi took it. “Of course I can see you. Can’t everyone?”
Jimin offered another one of his bittersweet smiles as they shook hands. “Of course, but not really. They kind of just look over me. Like, ‘oh hey, that guy tried to kill himself. I wonder what they’re serving in the cafeteria today?’” His smile became nothing but sad. “Most people only really spare one thought on me before they move on to more important topics.”
Yoongi’s heart filled with sympathy for him, the lonely boy with the sad smile who was really ever thought about once per person. “I don’t really have priorities.”
Jimin nodded. “I can tell.” He dropped Yoongi’s hand, leaving the other feeling like he was missing something. “So why are you here?”
“I heard you singing.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “Of course. That’s how most people come along. I’d hoped you were different.”
“I’m sorry.” Yoongi didn’t know why, but he apologized. A heavy lump had formed in his chest, leaving Yoongi feeling like he’d failed Jimin. “I’m a really normal person.”
“Except for your eyes. There’s always the eyes.” Jimin raked a hand through his sweaty hair. “You’re even lonelier than me.”
Yoongi took a step back, feeling like his emotions were being dissected and laid out on a table. “Wh-what-?”
“Don’t play dumb. Everyone plays dumb.” Jimin walked to the side of the room and picked up a navy blue duffel bag, swinging it casually over his shoulder. Yoongi caught himself before he started ogling the way Jimin’s bare muscles flexed with each movement. “But you shouldn’t worry. I’ll be gone tomorrow, anyways. You’re probably the last person who’ll see me here.” All traces of a smile had vanished from his features, leaving his eyes nothing but dark and empty.
Yoongi swallowed. “What do you mean by ‘here’?”
“If I told you, you’d try to stop me.” Jimin walked to the door, resting a hand on the doorknob while the other clutched the strap of his duffel bag. Despite his calm demeanour, his knuckles were white against the navy blue of the strap. “Bye, Yoongi.” With one last smile that made Yoongi’s heart break, he slipped out the door.
Yoongi should’ve chased after him. He should’ve sprinted up to Jimin and grabbed him by the shoulders, and hold him until he felt like his life was worth it. Even though Jimin had been cryptic, Yoongi was pretty sure of what he was hinting at. And he should’ve tried to stop him. He really should’ve.
But the look Jimin had given him, just before disappearing for most likely ever, made him feel like stopping him would only hurt him more.
And by the time Yoongi had snapped out of his trance and rushed out into the hallway, Jimin was long gone.
“Wait,” Jungkook calls. “Don’t leave.”
Yoongi slowly pivots on his heel until he’s directly facing Jungkook. “I’m not leaving.”
“Of course you’re leaving. Where are you going?” Jungkook takes a few swift, confident steps until he is merely a foot away from Yoongi.
Yoongi manages to smile. “If I told you, you’d try to stop me.”
Something flickers in Jungkook’s eyes, and before Yoongi knows it a hand is clamped around his wrist, steeling him to the ground.
“Don’t,” Jungkook says forcefully.
Yoongi’s smile widens, although he doesn’t think he looks any happier. I wish I’d done that with Jimin, he thinks to himself, before pulling his wrist out of Jungkook’s grasp. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly, turning around and putting some distance between them. “You don’t even know what I mean.”
Jungkook doesn’t answer. Surprised, Yoongi waits for a count of ten before glancing over his shoulder, only to find the blond-haired boy smiling at him.
For a glance, a flash, a brief, splintered second, Yoongi thinks he sees Jimin.
It’s the same smile – the same hollow bitterness, empty endless sadness that curves the corners of his lips and crinkles his eyes. His eyes, nose, lips, just like that song, softly reminding Yoongi of everything he should’ve done.
Yoongi turns away before Jungkook can see that he’s crying, and quickly walks away.
It’s not Jimin. It can’t be.
Jimin’s gone.