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Love is like a garden. If a garden is not nurtured, it will wilt. There will be no blooms. It may not die, but leaves will turn a dull green grey and droop. It may even die eventually, giving up, as love often does. The memory of blooms will be forgotten and love will be laid waste to ashes. When Jimin had been a hotblooded hormonal teenager, he had not understood. Every crush, every infatuation seemed like life and death. He had been sure he would die, if he weren’t with that person. He had sat in dreams of secret loves, his whole self-removed from the place, his home, his parents. And then just as quick, he had been sure he could live. Those loves were fleeting and fierce but was no garden.
When Jimin was in university, there was no time for love. He was ready to love, but there was no one to love. He was on a scholarship and worked hard to hold on to it. His parents were immensely proud of him. He worked long hours and took care of his expenses. Only once did his dad had to step in with financial help. He had fallen ill, terribly ill and was hospitalized for a month. Jimin made sure to pay back every penny. His parents never asked and it was he who made that decision. The proud look on his father’s face had whispered something to him then. It said My lovely son. His parents still speak of his resourcefulness at family gatherings, much to his embarrassment. Jimin’s parents had grown a lovely garden between the two of them and Jimin and his brother thrived in it. Their love, support and kindness bloomed and bloomed. This was the garden he knew. But he had not understood.
He moved to the city, far away from the mountains and seas of his childhood. He liked a few people. But he had not understood. Maybe that is why he finds himself in this place.
Jimin sits cross legged on the mat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the short table in front of him. He is sitting in a small booth surrounded by wooden walls. The city has cloaked him in her dust and non-stop life. He touches a finger to his cheek and grimaces when it comes away a little greasy. Jimin wishes he had the time to go home and freshen up. But his work had dragged on and he has just about managed to leave in time. He is in his office attire, a blue shirt now sadly wrinkled with the press of the day, tucked into black pants. He has rolled up the sleeves of the shirt to his forearms, in an effort to look casual. His tie is off, stuffed into his laptop bag. He has his big dorky glasses on. The morning had been rendered in chaos and he could not make time to wear his contact lens. Sungwoon had called him as he was rushing for work.
Jimin fidgets with his phone, antsy and full of nervous anticipation. There are no messages and he contemplates either calling his dad, or running to the restroom to splash water on his face. Or he could call Sungwoon and berate him a little for the trouble. It might take the edge off. He has been waiting for half an hour already. He has Jungkook’s number with him, but Sungwoon had told him it was only for emergencies, like last minute cancellations. “He won’t pick up calls from strangers” Sungwoon had cautioned him.
He wonders if waiting for half an hour would constitute an emergency. The waiter has been by two times. He checks in on Jimin for the third time and Jimin starts to feel annoyed. It wasn’t really fair to the waiter though.
He is just doing his job, Jimin reminds himself.
Jimin demurs the request for order for the third time. The waiter bows and leaves and Jimin sighs in relief. He feels as though there are a thousand prying eyes on him. The waiter pops in again with an apology and places a warm cup of steaming something in front of Jimin. Jimin smiles, his first genuine one for the evening and thanks him profusely.
“I hope I did not overstep by offering you tea” the waiter asks softly.
“Of course not. Thank you” Jimin assures him. Jimin cradles the cup between his palms, bringing it to his nose to breathe deeply. It smells of lemon grass and it soothes his agitation a little. He has a small pot of lemongrass at home, by his kitchen window. Whenever he is in the kitchen, Jimin always leans into get a whiff of the sparkling scent of the herb. Maybe it reminds him a little of his home, his father, mother and brother. He takes a sip and exhales in satisfaction. The brew warms his throat and stomach and he feels refreshed. It is now forty-five minutes past the fixed time. Jimin picks up his phone from the table, a finger hovering over Sungwoon’s contact.
“Jimin?”
The voice is soft and warm and Jimin drops his phone on the table in surprise. It hits the table with a loud clatter as Jimin looks up. A man stands at the doorway of the booth, dressed in all black. The waiter hovers behind him.
“Yes?”
“I’m Jungkook” the man says stepping in.
He stands awkwardly over the table and gestures “Should I?”
Jimin dips his head. “Please. Sit.. wherever..”
The waiter now satisfied that Jungkook is indeed the intended second guest, approaches and places two sets of menu on the table. “Would you like to place your order for drinks?”
“uh.. could you please come back in ten minutes?” Jungkook inquires.
“Of course sir” the waiter nods his acquiescence and removes himself from the booth.
“I hope…that is okay?” he turns to Jimin. “I thought we should introduce ourselves first.”
“Yes. That makes sense” Jimin confirms.
“Sorry I’m late. I would have called you but I lost your number and Maya was not taking my calls” he apologises.
Jimin is not sure what to make of it. Yes, it is a blind date but Jungkook not bothering to make sure that he saved his number rankled with him a little. He feels like a fool for waiting for forty-five minutes.
“It’s fine.” He waves the apology away, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot.
“This is my first blind date” Jungkook admits.
Jimin is not surprised. Jungkook does not look like the sort of person to go on blind dates, taking into account his appearance alone. He is drop dead gorgeous and Jimin hasn’t even had the chance to study his features. He is still nervous to look at Jungkook directly for more than a few seconds. His eyes keep skittering away and he plays with the edge of the menu with his fingers.
“Mine too.” Jimin whispers almost to himself.
“Sorry. Didn’t quite catch that.” Jungkook leans forward.
Jimin clears his throat. “It’s mine too. First blind date.”
“Ah, good to know that we are both blind date virgins.” Jungkook smiles. “Were you nervous?”
“I was.” I still am.
“hmmm. I am too.” Jungkook flips open the menu. “How do you know Sungwoon?”
“He is a very good friend of mine. When I moved to the city three years ago for my job, I met him at a friend’s house and we clicked”
“Maya keeps talking about Sungwoon all the time. He seems like a nice guy.”
“He is. The best.” Jimin exclaims fervently. “And the same. I hear about Maya daily”
They both smile at each other and Jimin is struck by how beautiful Jungkook’s smile is. It transformed his dark good looks into something cute. What he really wants to ask is why Jungkook agreed to the blind date.
“How do you know Maya?”
“She is my cousin.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “a massive pain in my ass.”
Jimin laughs. “She must be a good person though otherwise there is no way Sungwoon would be so smitten.”
“Smitten?” Jungkook smirks and his dark looks flow back into his face. Jimin is flustered. He sips his tea and winces. It is cold.
“Why? You don’t think they are smitten with other?” Jimin asks in mild curiosity.
“No no. I am not questioning that. My ears are ready to bleed with the way Maya goes on and on about Sungwoon”
Jungkook pauses to run a finger down a page of the menu. “It’s just that word. Smitten. Its so quaint. I don’t think I have heard anyone use it recently.”
Jimin flushes, unsure of how to react. “We should give our order for drinks” Jimin says instead.
“Sure.” Jungkook calls for the waiter and indicates that Jimin go first.
“I’ll have a whisky sour, please.” When it’s Jungkook’s turn, Jimin covertly studies him as he talks to the waiter about his choice. His eyes are large and pretty. He is wearing a loose black hoodie with rolled up sleeves. . His wrists are lean, veiny and strong. There’s a classy looking watch adorning his left wrist. When Jungkook speaks and gesticulates, his forearms flex. Jimin feels his knees go weak. His forearms are so sexy. Who knew I had a thing for forearms?
Overall, Jungkook does not look like he has made an effort to dress up for the date. Jimin frowns at that realization. Sure, Jimin wasn’t dressed up either but he is at least in his formal office attire. And he came straight from work. Jungkook is too casual. Hoodie over what looked like sweatpants. Even his hair is messy, bangs sweeping over his forehead and partially concealing his right eyebrow. Did he even want to come?
“Jimin?”
“Yes?” Jimin says a little disoriented.
“He asked if we would like anything to eat” Jungkook prompts, pointing at the waiter.
“Eat?” Jimin parrots
“To go with our drinks?’ Jungkook looks amused.
Jimin looks at the menu hurriedly and orders the first two items that catch his eye.
“Uh yes. I would like the fried tofu and the spring rolls.”
“And you sir? The waiter turns to Jungkook.
“Salmon nigiri for me”
The waiter leaves and there is an awkward pause in which Jungkook just stares at him. He has beautiful eyebrows. Jimin catches himself noticing the oddest things. Jungkook’s eyes rove over his face gently as if searching for something. Jimin shifts in his seat loving and hating the attention.
“What do you do Jimin?” he finally asks. “Maya told me, but please refresh my memory.” Jungkook expertly couches his inattention in politeness, but Jimin recognizes it for what it is.
“I work in an audit firm.” Jimin waits for the how boring jokes or some cliché statement about how Jimin does not look like he fit in a stick up the ass profession. Some people thought that was a compliment when it was an insult really. He loved his job.
“You must have studied a lot.” Jungkook says admiringly and Jimin’s lips move in an involuntary shy smile.
“I did. University and then CPA” Jimin feels proud of his hard-won qualifications and Jungkook’s reaction is gratifying.
“And you? Sungwoon mentioned that you work in advertising?”
“Yes, I do. I work at My byte story. I head the creative department.”
Jimin’s mouth hangs open a little. My byte story was one of the top advertising companies. “You head the creative department? You look so young. How old are you?”. The words come out in a rush and Jimin slaps a hand over his mouth. “Um sorry. If that was rude.”
“Its fine Jimin. I wasn’t very good academically but my creative side rescued me from mediocrity I think.” Jungkook shrugs, cheeks flushing perhaps in embarrassment.
Jimin listens fascinated. He cups his chin in the palm of his right hand and leans in. “You look so young” he murmurs again.
“I am 26. So I am young” he says nonchalantly, without any sense of pride.
“Really? You are younger than I am, by two years!” Jimin exclaims.
“Am I?” The smirk is back and Jimin feels warm all over. “Good thing, I like my men to be older.”
Such a charmer.
“Men? As in plural?” Jimin asks before he can stop himself. He has honed in on that like the fool he is.
“Not at the same time usually.” Jungkook winks. “Why? Are you into that?”
“No!” Jimin almost shouts and then calms himself down. “I mean, not for me” he amends. “If others can handle it, more power to them.”
“hmmm. Yeah, more power to them. But, not for me either” Jungkook says seriously. The glow of the soft yellow light casts a shadow in the hollow of Jungkook’s collar bones. He is a play of shadow and light and Jimin feels like he is in another dimension. Why is everything so intense?
Thankfully, the waiter pops in right then with their drinks and starters and Jimin takes a deep pull of his whiskey sour, hardly tasting it. Fortified by his drink, Jimin asks “How or why did you agree to this blind date?”
“Well, Maya is after me to date a nice person” Jungkook uses his fingers to make the under quotes gesture with the word nice. “She says I make poor choices while I think she just likes to control me. Sungwoon speaks highly of you and Maya trusts him.” Jimin feels like there is more to the story but he cannot right out ask why a person as gorgeous as he, is out on a blind date can he? It would have made sense if he had no personality or a lousy one. But Jungkook is interesting and intelligent. Not that blind dates are only for losers, he chastises himself immediately. He was on one, wasn’t he?
“Why do you say nice as if it is a fungal infection?” Jimin huffs.
“Nothing wrong with nice. Its boring.” Jungkook shrugs carelessly.
Well fuck. Jimin is wasting his time then. He is the epitome of nice.
“I’m nice.” Jimin says with a frown. His glass is empty and he signals the waiter for another one.
“Yeah? How nice are you?” Jungkook’s voice goes breathy and low. Jimin feels all tingly, sure that Jungkook is talking about something else entirely. They stare at each other and the pull of Jungkook’s eyes is strong. The contact breaks when Jungkook reaches out with a hand and removes Jimin’s thick spectacles.
“You look nice in these. You know what I would like to do?” Jungkook intones in the same low voice. Jimin’s mouth feels dry. Jungkook taps Jimin’s spectacles against his own lips. A slow tap tap against soft lips.
“Your whiskey sour” the waiter breezes in with his cheery voice, abruptly cutting into the tension. “And beer”
After that, they move effortlessly in a continuous dance of words, from family to movies, to music, to jobs. Jimin is drunk on Jungkook; what he says and how he says it, the way he moves his hands when he talks, the way his eyes glitters when he gets excited. Jungkook has a singing voice. Something about it, speaks of a melody. “You have a singing voice.” Jimin tells him.
Jungkook looks pleased. “I sing. I love to sing. If I hadn’t got into advertising I might have had a career in singing”
“Really? Sing something for me?” Jimin requests.
“Here?” Jungkook casts his gaze around.
“We can call the waiter over if you need an audience” Jimin grins.
“Touche.” Jungkook laughs. He hums a little before starting. Jimin recognizes the song. It is A thoughtful night by Kim Mok and big baby driver. Jungkook sings the first few verses and Jimin is absolutely blown away. He hums unconsciously along with Jungkook, stopping a little later than Jungkook. “You have a nice voice” Jungkook says.
“Nice. That’s me. Everything about me is nice” Jimin jokes self-deprecatingly.
Jungkook gives a slight smile. “Nice is a good look on you. It suits you.”
Jimin quickly drinks water to hide his pleasure at Jungkook’s words.
They are half way into dinner and Jimin feels much more relaxed. His glasses stay off and still on Jungkook’s side of the table. Jungkook has just one drink. He had driven to the restaurant and Jimin stops with his second whiskey sour, not wanting to drink alone. Besides, he needed his wits about him.
“I don’t understand why people ask if I am a top or bottom on the first date” Jimin complains as he sips on his ramen soup.
“It is a valid question. No?”
“It is, only if all you are looking for is a hookup. How is it valid when you hope to start something meaningful with the other person?” Jimin counters.
“Yes, but sex is important. What happens if you aren’t sexually compatible?”
“How does that matter unless you like the person’s personality? Sex gets boring eventually if you don’t like the person for who they are. If the two people involved like each other enough, I am sure they would work it out. Besides, sexual chemistry does not last forever. Its something you have to work for all your life.”
“You seem to have thought a lot about this.” Jungkook muses.
“hmmm yes. Probably why I am still single.” Jimin jokes. “All men want to do in this city is fuck and leave. They are always looking for the next best thing. When the best thing ever could be right in front of their noses.”
“You are a romantic.” Jungkook leans forward and places a hand over Jimin’s knuckles. His hand is warm and Jimin is momentarily distracted. When Jungkook caresses his knuckles, Jimin feels it in the pit of his stomach.
“I guess I am” he says quietly.
Jungkook lifts his hand and presses a slow kiss to his knuckles all the while holding his eyes. Jungkook seems surprised by his own action and withdraws his hand with haste. He rubs his nape and lowers his eyes. Jimin’s temperature rises. The touch of Jungkook’s lips was buttery soft. When Jimin was six, he had been to a butterfly farm and he had known the flutter of a butterfly’s wings on his cheek. The wings left a bit of residue on his cheek and it had sparkled in the sun. Jungkook’s kiss felt the same. A flutter and dusting of magic.
He hasn’t felt like this in a long while. Arousal hums just from the kiss.
Jungkook clears his throat. “How is the ramen?”
“It’s so good.” Jimin voice creaks a little, from an unnamed emotion. He scoops up noodles and a bit of chicken with his chopsticks and extends it towards Jungkook without thinking. He hovers his other hand under the chopsticks politely. He pulls back a little, embarrassed when Jungkook just sits motionless. His proffered chopsticks are almost down to his bowl when Jungkook darts forward and grabs his wrist. He pulls his hand by the wrist towards himself infinitesimally. The noodles and meat wobble precariously. Jimin feels drained of any strength. He holds back a whimper at the way Jungkook wraps his fingers around his wrist so firmly.
“You have thin wrists.” Jungkook whispers. He tightens his fingers almost in a bruising hold and takes the food into his mouth. “It’s delicious” he says in such a low tone that Jimin shivers. Jungkook removes the chopsticks from Jimin’s hold.
“You have small hands.” It is an echo of Jungkook’s discovery about his wrists.
Jimin flushes. “I don’t like it.”
“I do.” Jungkook speaks with conviction on the heels of Jimin’s own words as if daring him to contradict Jungkook. Jimin forgets to breathe. The silence that follows is deep and encompassing that he feels like this scene in the room was something unfolding in a different life, a life in which he is a random spectator. A scene glimpsed through a warmly lit window while walking on a darkened street.
He feels compelled to break the silence. “Thank you. No one has complimented me on my hands.”
Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that and places Jimin’s hand back on the table. He still holds his hand over the table. Jimin’s hand trembles a bit under his warm heavy touch. He is feeling everything so intensely. Every look, every touch and the air that they shared. He is breathing in the essence of Jungkook and tangling it with his own. Do you feel me too? Are you breathing with me Jungkook?
Jimin tries to move his hand. “I need to eat.’
“Eat with your other hand. Or do you prefer that I feed you?” Jungkook demurs teasingly. Jimin is dumbstruck. Jungkook laughs at his expression. “I am joking” he moves his hand away. Jimin immediately misses the warmth and regrets not seizing the chance. He watches Jungkook scooping up the last of his meat and when Jungkook catches his eye in an inquiring look, he shakes his head with a slight smile. Jimin feels slow and yet hyperalert and he suddenly wonders how he must look to Jungkook, still in his office wear, his tired eyes and the city clinging to his skin.
“Dessert?”
“I’m nearly full but I wouldn’t mind sharing.” Jimin suggests.
“That works perfectly. What would you like? I can eat anything.”
“The water chestnuts in coconut rice pudding?” Jimin asks. Jungkook agrees and they call the waiter to order. Jimin dares to venture into past relationship territory while they wait. “Have you… have you had long term relationships?”
“I haven’t in the strictest sense. I have dated and what I thought as love then wasn’t really it.” Jungkook gazes to the side at the light glinting off the flower vase. He now directs that gaze at Jimin. His eyes seem to hold the light it had captured. “I was also very busy with my work. I couldn’t devote enough time to another person. It was just easier to go on dates during the weekend, have my sexual urges satisfied”
“And now?” Jimin asks softly, a little afraid to hear the answer.
“What about you?” Jungkook avoids the question. Jimin wonders why.
“I had a few short ones, and a long one. It lasted a year. We wanted different things in the end.”
“What do you want, Jimin?” Jungkook asks with a curious tilt of his head.
“I would love to get married one day.” Jimin confesses with hesitation. This was the point at which most guys lost interest. But Jimin has learnt the hard way to be upfront about his desires and needs. He has no time for games. It saves him the heartbreak as he always walks into his relationships with a sense of hope and new beginnings. “I want everyday boring life with my partner”
“I figured that.” Jungkook smiles.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting it.” Jimin gets defensive on a reflex.
“There isn’t” Jungkook agrees simply. Jimin is taken aback with his easy agreement. Perhaps that is what makes him speak next.
“I want a garden” Jimin mumbles under his breath.
“A what?” Jungkook asks.
“It’s nothing. Just something my father always says” Jimin tries to laugh it off.
“I’m sure it’s not nothing if your father says it. Seeing as how much you love your family.” Jungkook speaks with reassurance, enticing Jimin. Tempting him.
Jimin is buoyed by Jungkook’s interest. Either that or he is struck by madness. “My father says that love is like a garden. You have to nurture it, take care of it, constantly. It will wither away and die, otherwise.” Jungkook listens intently, a small furrow forming between his brows.
“I...I want a garden. To nurture and care for. I want the blooms from my garden to perfume my days, my life” Jimin says softly.
Jungkook doesn’t react and Jimin gets a little frustrated, unable to read him properly. They don’t speak anymore about it. Jimin chides himself for having revealed too much. I even spoke of the garden. He feels vulnerable.
Dessert arrives, sweetening their mouths. They eat mostly in silence, Jimin ruminating over his lapse of sense. Jungkook seems to be lost in thought. It is not an uncomfortable silence. It’s a healing one, that they both needed in different ways. Jimin gives up the last few spoons of the dessert to Jungkook, feeling full and sweet from watching him eat with enjoyment. They have a small tussle over the bill, finally agreeing to go Dutch.
Outside, the night sky is clear and the stars are vivid. Jimin shivers a little in the chill.
“Are you cold?” Jungkook asks. He is standing a little away.
“No. I’m fine” Jimin hitches his laptop bag higher up his shoulder.
“Let me hold your bag.” Jungkook offers, shifting closer.
“Oh its fine.”
“Only until you book your uber.” Jungkook insists.
“You don’t have to wait with me Jungkook.” Jimin is still unsettled by the things he said to Jungkook.
“I wouldn’t, if I had to Jimin. I want to”. Jungkook slides the strap off Jimin’s shoulders and holds the bag. Jimin books his cab quickly and tucks away his phone. He sneaks a look at Jungkook and finds that his eyes are intent on him. The wind moves through Jungkook’s hair, ruffling it. He feels the very same wind in his own hair, pushing a lock on his forehead, over his eyes.
“You are not what I expected.” Jungkook whispers. He moves the strands carefully and gently to the side as if Jimin were a bird that he might startle into flight. But Jimin stands very still, intently present in his body, feeling as if he were made out of sand, sand meeting fire and about to be transformed, smoothed, made glittering.
Jungkook cups his hands lightly around his face, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs. Jimin closes his eyes instinctively and tips his face, inviting a kiss. Jungkook’s lips are warm and he kisses him gently. Jimin fists his hands into Jungkook’s hoodie, feeling a sweet ache building in his bones. Like waves lapping at a sandy beach. Jungkook changes the angle and presses closer. Jungkook’s eyelashes flutter against his cheek. A butterfly kiss, Jimin thinks deliriously. An overdose, running in his veins.
A car’s blaring horn breaks them apart. Jimin breathes heavily, his hand still clenched in Jungkook’s hoodie. Jungkook looks at him, lucid, eyes with the same glitter as the vivid stars in the night sky.
“Give me your number.” Jungkook says huskily and hands him his phone. Jimin types in his phone number and gets into his waiting car. Jungkook places the bag by his side and shuts the door.
“I had a good time, Jimin. Sleep well.” Jungkook leans in at the window level. He closes the distance between them and kisses him. A fleeting press of lips.
“Likewise, Jungkook.” He resists the urge to touch his tingling lips and gains control of his self, enough to bid him goodbye.
And then he has to go.
At home, Jimin quickly finishes up his nightly routine. The bedroom window is left partly open to the cold spring air, wind stirring the curtains. He closes his eyes. Jungkook is with him like a fever, a compulsion, an open door into his own possibilities. Maybe a garden of his own.
*****
“What do you mean Sungwoon?”
“I’m sorry Jimin. Maya told me late last night. She set you up with Jungkook but apparently Jungkook was only doing her a favour. I really wanted you to meet someone good Jimin. Maya is always talking about her cousin and how wonderful he is. I thought he would be a good fit for you.”
Jimin feels dread leeching him.
“He wasn’t really keen to go and Maya practically forced him. I am really mad at her. I don’t know why she thinks that she knows what is right for everyone. She thought she was doing me a favour. That you would at least have a good time.”
“It was a pity date.” Jimin whispers. That explains Jungkook’s clothes and his shocking lateness. Maybe he had thought Jimin would leave. More fool him for waiting for forty-five minutes.
“Jimin…..No. It’s just that you are apparently not his type. I wanted to give you a heads up, in case you are expecting something. It might not lead to anything and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Jimin laughs bitterly. Too fucking late.
“You don’t understand Sungwoon. I told him about the garden.” Jimin’s voice rises and he gets up from his cubicle to walk to the stairs by the emergency exit.
“Oh shit. I’m so sorry Jimin.”
Jimin closes his eyes against a betraying sting. “No, Sungwoon. It’s not your fault. You did not know either.”
“But...the date went well right? Maybe Jungkook likes you.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Jimin responds tightly. “I’ll speak to you later, Sungwoon.” He hangs up on Sungwoon without waiting for a reply.
He walks slowly back to his seat, a ball of despair and humiliation rolling in his stomach. It is ridiculous how much a single date has affected him. He is even more miserable when he recalls that he has misplaced his glasses at the restaurant. He does not remember if Jungkook had given it back. Thankfully he has his contact lens to fall back on. He had called the restaurant earlier in the day, but the manager informed him that they hadn’t found it while closing up. He should check with Jungkook right away, but it stings too much, like a raw wound freshly trickling blood.
“Delivery for Jimin” a voice says brightly next to him. The receptionist places a small basket of sunflowers on his desk. “These just came in.” She flounces away and Jimin searches for a card, bewildered. No one other than his parents have given him flowers in ages. There is a card, and it starts with Jimin in a beautiful cursive handwriting. I had a lovely time yesterday. Hope you have a good day. Thank you. Jungkook
Jimin’s heart thunders in his chest. Thank you.
A perfect end to the debacle. A clean cut. He wonders if this too was Maya’s idea. Doesn’t matter. It is still the end.
He must end it too and so Jimin shoots off a quick text to Jungkook during lunch. Thank you for the flowers. His phone rings immediately, and he almost drops it in panic at the name flashing across his screen. He is surely a masochist for he takes the call.
“Hello?”
“Did you like the flowers Jimin? I did not know what you like but the sunflowers remind me of you.”
Jimin’s heart twists. “I did. Thank you.”
“How about we meet this evening?”
“Today?” Jimin asks in confusion.
“I have your glasses.”
Oh
“You don’t have to come all the way to return it Jungkook. Hand it over to Maya. I can get it from Sungwoon then”
“Nonsense. Why would I do that when I can meet you.” Jimin can feel the light heartedness in Jungkook’s tone. He gives in not wanting to argue and prolong the conversation. He names a coffee shop close to his work. They decide to meet at six.
Evening finds him again first and alone, waiting in the coffee shop. He is a few minutes early needing the time to compose himself. The world outside runs through utterly unchanged and yet he himself is changing.
Jungkook sweeps in, right on the dot bringing in the chill and the fading light collecting outside the door and windows.
Jimin stands up and Jungkook hurries over with a big smile and hugs him, enveloping him in his scent. The sunflowers are on the chair next to him and Jungkook moves it to the table so that he could sit next to Jimin.
“How was your day?” Jungkook asks softly.
“It was fine.”
“What’s wrong?” he inquires at Jimin’s dull tone
Jimin shakes his head. “My glasses?”
Jungkook fishes it out of the pocket of his coat. “Here.”
“What would you like to drink? I will go and order.” Jungkook places a hand on the small of his back.
“Jungkook. You don’t have to do this.”
Jungkook looks at him quizzically. Jimin swallows past the ball of humiliation. “I know” he whispers.
“You know what?” Jungkook asks still uncomprehending. Jimin is going to be compelled to say it.
“About your cousin forcing you on the date. That you did not want to and you only came as a favour” he whispers
Jungkook straightens and comprehension dawns on his face. “Yes” he admits and a wave of hurt wells up in Jimin. He still had hope but hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth killed it. Was it all in his imagination? The moments they shared?
“Yes. At first it was. But I like you Jimin. I don’t send flowers to everyone I go out with.”
“You said I am not your type.” Jimin blurts in agitation.
“You aren’t.” Jungkook’s words are like the shock of icy cold water in winter.
“Look at me” he says when Jimin turns away in shame. “Please”
Jungkook turns the chair around such that Jimin is facing him. Their knees almost touch.
“It is true that I wouldn’t have noticed you or given you a second glance if we had met in other circumstances. But Jimin, that would have been my loss. I would have missed knowing the wonderful person you are” Jungkook pauses to rub his back in small circles.
Jimin is hopeful, leaning into the fingers on his back. “Really?”
“You must know Jimin. Surely you must know”
“I don’t. I did not know.” He jerks away, from Jungkook’s hand startled by the force of his own admission
“And you?”Junckook turns beseeching eyes on him, arm hovering uncertainly in the air.
“I….” Jimin clears his throat, swallowing past the ball of anxiety. “I liked you. But…”
“I kept your glasses with me deliberately. I wanted an excuse to see you today.” Jungkook interrupts.
Jimin is stunned. “You did?”
“Remember we talked about men. Plural?”
Jimin nods mutely.
“I want a chance at singular. One man.” Jungkook looks at him with the same glittering eyes of the previous night. “A chance to be smitten”
Jimin touches Jungkook’s left cheek with an open palm and Jungkook turns his face into it, pressing a gossamer light kiss right in the middle. At the heart of his palm, callused and lined meet soft lips. Jimin jumps a little as if stung by it.
And he finds out that in every end, there is a beginning.
*****
Epilogue
Jimin closes his eyes, drifting slowly between sleep and waking. The grass grows sweetly and silently, new leaves pressing open against the trees. Tiny larvae, white as seed pearls, transform themselves into caterpillars, butterflies and bees. Bird’s wings pulse open in flight. All this is his. Sacred.
He recalls the conversation with his father, months and months ago.
“Dad, I found my garden.”
“Jungkook?”
“Jungkook”
They take care of it together now. They weed out the fights regularly. The blooms are stronger for it, weathering storms with determination and tenacity, holding fast to their base of love. Jimin knows the perfume of his garden in the coffee Jungkook makes for him, every morning. He knows it in the touch of Jungkook’s hands massaging his feet at the end of difficult days. It’s there in their car parked facing the gate, on the days Jungkook knows that Jimin might need to use it. It is present in the tears that he sheds and in Jungkook’s determination to make him laugh. It surrounds them when Jungkook loves him on their bed, in their shared pleasure. It threads through the songs that Jungkook sings. It surges in the hurtful words that Jungkook casts at him, in his anger and in cold glances. It is present in Jungkook's sulks, in the withdrawals and hums in the silences. It sweetens every kiss and the thaw of winter. He found his garden with Jungkook and it is alive.
His garden blooms.
“Jungkook.” He now says it aloud, solid and definite, warm as stone in the sunlight.