Chapter Text
1.
«We’re going to meet again, Taehyung-ah, so don’t cry,» the eight-year-old said, holding his friend’s hand as they sat on the concrete, their gazes turned to the dying sun. It bled pretty oranges and reds and pinks on the sparse clouds, and its light folded itself around the two kids softly. In the distance, the cicadas delivered their last songs from the bushes that were already turning into the lightest yellow. The resort’s pool, which had never been so empty, reflected the sky just above.
It was only 6PM.
Summer was indeed ending.
Normally, Jimin would’ve watched the sun sink behind the pretty line of the roofs with Taehyung only at 8PM, but the days got shorter and the nights deeper, and he found himself having to say goodbye to Taehyung the day right after. He didn’t expect the time to come this soon. He wanted to stay with him a little bit more.
«Don’t cry, Taehyung-ah,» Jimin insisted, inching closer to his friend. The other child’s shoulders shook from quiet sobs and hiccups and his hand tried to rub his eyes free from the tears.
«I’m not– crying,» Taehyung retorted, but nonetheless, he held the other hand just a tiny bit tighter and stole a glance from the boy sitting beside him. «Don’t tell me not to– cry when you– you were crying– too, Jiminie,» he managed to sob out.
Jimin’s eyes widened comically as he looked at Taehyung. He had thought he wouldn’t notice, he had wiped his eyes so well! Taehyung wasn’t supposed to see him cry! Tears began to collect in his eyes again and he furiously tried to blink them away, but it only helped two huge droplets to roll down his cheeks.
«It’s– it’s because you are crying! It’s not my fault!» Jimin accused, but it only came out as a wail, causing Taehyung to giggle a little between tears.
«Don’t cry, Jiminie,» mirrored Taehyung, and he sat closer to his friend and wrapped his arms around him, leaning his head on his shoulder. «Don’t cry. Let’s not cry...»
«Mommy, why isn’t Seokjinie hyung coming again?»
The woman blinked at his son sitting at one side of the table, his spoon stirring mindlessly the soup in front of him as he looked at her.
«I told you, Jungkook-ah,» she replied, stroking his son’s hair tenderly, «Seokjinie hyung had to go back home, to his mom and dad. He was here on holiday to see his cousin, his home is far away. He can’t stay here.»
Jungkook still looked at his mother, wide eyed, but his hand had stopped. «But I still want to play with him,» he said, the first hints of a whine stuck in his throat.
His mother knew Jungkook too well – at this rate he was going to cry. «But Jungkookie,» she reasoned, «when you stay away from home for so long, wouldn’t you want to come back? Wouldn’t you want to see mommy and daddy and hyung again?»
Jungkook pouted and his lower lip trembled for a second. He nodded. Of course he would want to see mommy and daddy and hyung again, if he was in Seokjinie hyung’s shoes. But Seokjinie hyung also promised him he would come and play with him every day. He wanted Seokjinie hyung. Seokjinie hyung was always so good to him.
«Then will Seokjinie hyung come again next summer?» Jungkook asked once again, to which his mother smiled tenderly.
«Let’s hope so, honey.»
It was the dazzling lights flashing everywhere. The white of the dress flowing, almost never brushing the floor beneath her – it was like she was floating in the air. Her graceful, light movements looked like the ones of an angel. Perhaps she was. Perhaps she came from heaven to see her human lover, who was now coming to meet her in slow and fluid steps, spreading his arms for her to fold herself in.
And the moment she launched herself to him – the utter passion she poured into the movement overwhelmed the stage entirely. The way they held each other and seemed to never let go, spinning around, faces buried in each other’s necks...
Hoseok felt like he never had before.
Even through the small screen of the TV, it was as if the two dancers were in the same room as he was, spinning right in front of his eyes. As if he could enter the world of them two but never getting quite there; he was always a step behind. But it just made him want to keep chasing them even if it meant getting stuck in a never-ending loop. It was okay as long as it made him feel something. Anything.
He felt alive as if it was the first time in his life.
«What are you watching, Hoseok?» his father asked as he entered the room and saw Hoseok sitting cross-legged on the carpet, eyes glued to the TV screen. It startled the boy and his eyes shoot up to look at him.
Hoseok’s father wasn’t the kind of parent who would be as strict to his kids as not to allow him to watch TV, but he was a rational man. Hoseok knew that if he voiced his thoughts out in that moment, he would brush it off as a childish fantasy. He wouldn’t have understood.
«Nothing,» Hoseok answered quickly. «Just people performing.»
His father took a quick glance to the flashing screen. The two dancers have now parted, but they still looked like they were gravitating towards each other every step they took. Father and son stayed quiet for a moment, letting only the music fill the silence.
«They’re good,» his father commented mindlessly, and Hoseok nodded and hummed in agreement, not knowing what else to do. The man then took glance to the watch on his wrist instead. «When you’re done, get ready for the extra maths lesson this evening.»
«Okay.»
When the man left, Hoseok turned to the TV screen again. The male dancer was now holding his partner by her waist, their foreheads touching as they spun around slowly on the spot, music fading into the background, until the lights dimmed and everything went black. As claps and ovations boomed around the stage and in the room Hoseok was in, he thought that it would be nice if he could do that too.