cry sob bawl

“Snow is beautiful,” Yoongi began after a while of silence. Nodding in agreement, you remained silent.

It was very interesting but undeniably beautiful to watch Yoongi play in fascination with the snowflakes. It was like he’s never seen it before first hand. Grabbing the two wheels either side of him, he pushes himself towards the other corner of the rooftop where he picked up a pile of snow and began mashing them together between his hands.

It was like watching a child in a grown man’s body. Although it warmed your heart compared to the wind that was freezing, it made you want to cry. It tore your heart apart slowly and painfully. You wished the accident didn’t happen and Yoongi was the same old grumpy man that wanted to sleep and make music all day long.

But no matter how many times you wanted to wake up and all of this was a nightmare - no matter how many times you wished on a shooting star or 11:11, this was real. This was too real. It was too real that you didn’t even know how to handle it.

Min Yoongi didn’t deserve to be in this position. This man had a big future ahead of him; this isn’t where he should be. Coped up on a wheelchair, limited to do things, unable to do what he loves and create music. Yoongi should be out in the company, reaching his dreams, inspiring younger and older people to do what they love.

But sure, the worst things come free in life.

Watching the man roll about in his wheelchair was enough to drive your tears over the edge. Cupping your mouth to muffle your sobs, you continue to watch Yoongi play with the ice cold drops, his eyes intensely focused and he swings his hands around; pushing, mashing, throwing snow here there and everywhere. His hair was now painted with a thin coat of snow that dissolved into water, his hands turned pink and the tip of his nose a shade of blood red.

“Why are you crying?” His soft voice rang out in the darkness as his head turns towards you. Why is it that every time someone asks that question, it makes you cry even harder?

Shaking your head, you only lifted yourself up from the bench and dragged your feet towards the man with soft eyes and a pale face. Wrapping your arms around him, you let all the tears run wild as he sat, unmoving.

“I’m just happy you got to play with the snow,” your voice cracked here and there, but you couldn’t care less. He was happy which made you happy, even though a huge shadow of fear and dread was leaning over your shoulder.

He had let you release a few tears onto his shoulder. His eyes blinking every time a snowflake would drop onto his eyelash, staring up at the night sky. Sometimes he would wonder if this would be the last time he’d be able to see such a wonderful sight like this, and be in such a comforting (yet quite cold) atmosphere. There was something about snow that Yoongi had taken quite an interest in.

“Come on, it’s late and it’s getting colder. I gotta take you back before one of the nurses decide to kill me,” you had pulled away from the older man and sucking in a cold breath of air. Chuckling, Yoongi nodded. He had lifted his hands, motioning you to bend down; throwing his thumbs towards your eyes to brush away the stray tears that were left. Even with cold hands, you could feel the warmth through your cheeks. The warmth of love that had spread with a single touch made your heart scream out in agony as you closed your eyes.

Your heart was smashing against your chest as you slowly walked behind the wheelchair, getting a firm grip before pushing. You didn’t want to go back. You wanted to stay out here forever with the man you loved.

You didn’t want to say goodbye.

.

.

.

It had been only two days since it had snowed, and two days it has been since Yoongi had been awake.

Now he’s lying unmoving, as dead as a corpse; as pale as the snow. The heart monitor beeping away ever so softly, but it kept ringing in your head. Beep after beep, you could feel yourself going insane.

And oh god, don’t even mention the phone call you had received the other day from Yoongi’s family. The agonising pain that was seeping through the phone and draining your own soul; the sniffles and sobs still remained clear in your head from his mother’s voice.

“Please, pull his life support out. Please end his misery before this illness destroys him.” You remember his mother’s voice so clearly. It hadn’t left your mind ever since she ended the call.

The illness has pushed his limits; leaving him suffering slowly in a coma. A vegetable that was oblivious to their surroundings, yet still looking as beautiful as prince charming.

Yoongi has never looked so peaceful for the whole 5 years of knowing him. He looked so peaceful, as if not a thing could disturb him; yet he also looked fragile at the same time. Too fragile for the world - that if a feather had brushed against his skin it would break. It felt as if the sand in the hourglass was falling way too quick.

“I love you, Yoongi. Alright? Never forget that.” You managed to choke out; rubbing your thumb gently over his knuckle that had turned red from your continuous rubbing. The consecutive beeps had replied to your rhetorical question as your eyes stare hopelessly at the man who can’t be moved.

Who knows how long it has been since you left to go home, or how long it has been since you had a proper meal to fill your empty stomach that is surviving on water. Who knows how long it has been since his mother or father had been up to the hospital. Who knows how long it has been since you’ve felt any other emotion other than fatigueness and misery.

Your heart still isn’t strong enough to say goodbye yet. Though you knew he could push on for at least another month, not a single word of thanks had left your mouth. Not a word of love, not a word of thanks, but only the words a sad man could say to his dead wife.

You didn’t like saying goodbye, because goodbye means forgetting. You’d like to say see you later instead, because you know you’ll never him alone, and he’ll never leave you whether he’s alive and breathing or one with the sky.

.

.

.

“He’s in a better place now.”

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“I’m sorry.”

Words flew in and out of your ears as your eyes stuck onto the coffin that lay the man you had fallen way too hard for.

They pulled the plug before you knew it.

They ripped your heart and smashed it into pieces as soon as the heart monitor only showed a thin green line, with an eerie and long noise that pierced through your body and mind. Tears of sorrow fell from your eyes, screams and shouts ripping through your throat to stop the nurses and doctors from restraining you and pulling the plug. It all happened too quick.

You hated it. You hated this feeling of being lost--being alone.

“It was the right thing to do,” his mother’s voice broke your train of thoughts as you glance at her with swollen and tired eyes.

You could only scoff. At this point, you didn’t know whether you hated his mother or was thankful for putting him out of his misery. All that you knew was that the man you hoped to spend the rest of your life with was laying, paler than he was in the hospital room, possibly matching the same colour of a snowflake this time. The only difference was, he could breathe in the hospital room, but this god damn coffin was too suffocating; even just looking at it made you suffer.

Was it really the best thing to do? Could you have prevented it in some other way? Would Yoongi have done the same if he was in your case? All these questions, but not a single answer.

Finally coming to your senses, taking in your surroundings you had realised you were the last one there along with his mother. His mother, staring at you with eyes filled with pity - though there was something strange. Her eyes... it didn’t look sincere... Her hand that squeezed your shoulder to show grief in some sort... didn’t feel genuine. It was like she didn’t even care that she ended the life of her successful son.

“Yoongi wouldn’t have done it if he was you.” Shrugging her posh hand off your shoulder, you muttered one last time before turning away from the coffin.

Guilt smashes you in your chest as each step begins to feel heavy and every click of your heel drowns in your ears; suddenly walking becomes very difficult.

“I had one chance to save you, Yoongi, and I failed...”

She fell into a little hole called love. Love, though many people think it’s a blessing and a great thing, sometimes it just isn’t for everybody. Unfortunately, she was one of these people that fate decided shouldn’t have a happy ending like all those fairytales that you read in books or see on TV shows.

Catching her so called loved one sharing what looked like quite a heated lip locking contest, her purity and innocence shattered into pieces and was replaced with a broken heart mended with sellotape and super glue. 

Since then, she had built walls and locked her heart in several cages so that she wouldn’t have to go through such a hard time again.

She remembered it so clearly. The devil in her being released as she watched her ‘loved one’ shoot her a panicked look. The words, “I’m sorry, it-it was a mistake, I promise! You know I love you!” escaping his poor little swollen and red lips he used to attack the other woman’s own pair.

Scoffing she looked at the confused woman trying to shelter herself ever so slightly from the piercing glare she was receiving. “You are pathetic,” were the only words that left her mouth and flung knives into her ex-lover’s heart before turning on her heel and stormed away. She had so much to say. She wanted to say a lot. But she couldn’t, because she knew this feeling was foreign, and she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to handle it well. 

Days after days, weeks after weeks, months after months, she tried everything in her book, suggestions from the internet and recommendations from her personal friends on how to get over such a heartbreak, but she always fell back at square one. Endless tears shed and sleeping on empty stomachs for days - who knew how much weight she had lost over the months. Eyes red and sore from all the rubbing, nose clogged from the constant sniffing, face as dead as a zombie and hair as crazy as a birds nest - she didn’t care. It wasn’t like she was going to impress anyone anytime soon.

She built her walls up so high because she was scared that whenever she tore them down for another boy, the boy will only betray and hurt her once again. You learn from your mistakes, they said; so the best thing to do in her book was to simply not love again.

Until one day, a boy trotted along into the music store where she was working, humming away at the song that was being played through the speakers of the shop in a low volume. She watched with careful eyes, ears perking at every hum that reached her ears, making sure to not look as noticeable just in case he had caught her.

She had seen him quite a lot actually. He’d always come in every Thursday after 3pm, usually around 3:30pm - if not, 4pm. It looked like he has an interest in the older music; bands like Nirvana or Bon Jovi, or singers like Jeff Buckley. He’d always go through the back to view all the instruments that were on display, and even ask to play a few of them. 

She had overheard his name was Jimin, and now and then he would flash a sweet smile at her when he had seen her before picking up one of the newer Taylor acoustic guitars and strumming it a few times to see if it was in tune.

“I never got your name,” Jimin had asked as he threw his hand to his back pocket and lifted out a rather large leather wallet.

“Oh, it’s _________,” she replied with a small but evident blush hanging on her cheeks.

“What a beautiful name,” he had flashed his smile before taking the rather large and heavy bag from the smaller female. “I’ll see you about then, _____?” Jimin’s voice broke the smaller girl out of her thoughts as she quickly nodded and waved. What are you doing to me, Jimin?

Jimin had visited more often and the two had gotten to become closer to the point of good friends. In the midst of everything, she was happy. She was happy because she can finally be herself again and not worry or mope about all day long.

Though, she would be lying if she had said she hadn’t thought about him being a love interest. Though she swore not to open her heart up to anybody in a romantic way for a long time (until her heart has been stitched up properly) the thought kept in her head and lingered after she had pushed it away. 

They became great friends and the last thing she wanted was them to fall apart by some silly love request. He was everything anyone could have asked for in a friend. Sweet, caring, loving, funny, and though it’s normal to have manners and be a gentleman, sometimes she would think Jimin had taken things too far with his mannerism and acted a little, oh should I say, more couple like with her. She would always shake her head, telling herself that they were going to be nothing more than friends.

Though she couldn’t have been so wrong in her life. The more he was around her, the more he embraced her, loved her, treated her like a princess but also like a fragile porcelain doll, she couldn’t help but fall in love.

And that meant code red.

She wouldn’t lie - she would admit she wanted to love him. She wants to date him, experience what it is like to love somebody and to be loved back again, taste them plump cherry looking lips he applies a specific strawberry lip balm on everyday without fail. Have him look at her like she was the only woman in the entire world, like she was his own world.

But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t take that risk again. She wouldn’t take that risk again.

She was afraid.

“I have something to tell you, _______,” Jimin broke the silence that hung between the two as they slowly strolled around the beach that was also linked to a park. Kids laughter and dogs barking could be heard on their right, while on their left, the waves beating against the rocks and splashes of feet and paws reached their ears. The wind blew and whistled, not too harsh but not soft either.

“Hm?” She replied, one of her hands was holding her hat while the other held tightly onto the brown picnic basket full of food. 

People easily mistaken them as a couple, as to which she would reply with a quick shake of head and a laugh, followed by a, no, not at all; which broke Jimin’s heart incredibly.

“I…” he started off. “I just wanted to take the time to tell you how much I really like you.” That was it. Those were the words she dreaded hearing the most, and she knew that someday those would slip out of his mouth.

“You’re so sweet and kind, so loving and funny, everything I want in a girl. I know you have had such a bad past with guys but please, I promise I won’t be like him. I promise I will treasure you with all my heart and soul and love you until the day I die. I’ll risk everything for you: my health, my life, my money, everything. I will protect you and cherish you like no other. Please, can you be my girlfriend?”

She melted at the words that were spoken from her love interest. She tried so so hard to release the chains and break down her walls for someone like him. But, that was what her ex-boyfriend said too when he confessed.

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t force herself into saying yes and then become very uncomfortable, as even with the thought of dating him makes a chill run down her spine and her hands turning cold. She didn’t want to say no, because he looked very sincere and the last thing she would want was him being upset.

So she followed her guts, her brain, and her heart.

“No, I’m sorry Jimin…” Voice barely a whisper but loud enough to be heard by the man. His eyes widened and her eyes fell with guilt and sorrow. She truly honestly wanted to date him, but now it was too late to even try to get that into his brain that was probably clouded with hundreds and thousands of questions as to why.

“W-why?” 

“I just- I can’t- I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry Jimin,” her voice slowly turned mute and now only her lips were moving as her head turned from side to side quickly. The memories of how she was like after the horrible break up and especially what caused the break up flashed through her head painfully as tears welled up in her eyes. 

It played in her head over and over again like a broken record; and no matter what she done it could never leave her head.

“I’m home,” he muttered unhappily, closing his eyes briefly because nothing can describe how happy he was to finally be home, to take a nice shower and go to bed - though it was still early, and was ready for another repeat of today.

Pots and pans clinked in the kitchen signalling his girlfriend was making something to eat. As much as he loved his girlfriend, he honestly couldn’t be bothered lately and only wanted to sleep.

“Welcome home, jagi!” Her voice rang out, hitting his head with a pang as his head began throbbing painfully. Seokjin’s eyes closed in pain and flinched, before regaining and quickly walked towards the stairs.

“You’re home early… Dinner will be ready in a bit, get washed up and come down. I made your favourite food!” His girlfriend happily chirped from the kitchen as her voice echoed through the house. Seokjin sighed yet again, anger slowly bubbling inside of him. I don’t want to eat, I want to sleep! He shouted inside his head and he hoped she could somehow read his mind, but failed as her voice was heard once again.

Seokjin was a man that wouldn’t hurt a fly unless there was a valid reason to. People would think he couldn’t hurt anything because he was so gentle, but man, were they wrong.

The last thing you’d want to do is get on Jin’s nerves because he was the oldest of his group, he knew how to discipline and set things out. He knew how to win, because though he had a gentle and sweet facade on for the past who knows how long, through the years of training and especially being the oldest out of the 6 boys in his group, he had developed a more rough personality when things needed to stop.

Of course, there were them days where everything just seems off and wrong and nothing seems to be going his way, were naturally he is just angry. That’s understandable. But when angry Jin for a reason comes out, it’s not pretty.

Stepping fresh out of the shower and into the beating cold room, he sighed in happiness because this was what he was looking for the most after a long day of practice. His muscles were relaxed, his mind was calm, and finally for god’s sake he can sleep.

“Seokjin! The food’s going to get cold if you don’t eat soon!” But in the midst of happiness, it broke when his girlfriend’s screeching voice shouted. It wasn’t usually this annoying, what happened?

“I’m not hungry,” he lazily replied back as he flopped onto the comfortable bed in nothing but boxers.

Muffled footsteps could be heard charging up the stairs before quieting down slightly and the door pushed open.

“I kinda thought you didn’t wanna come down, so here’s your food. Eat up before you-”

“I don’t want to eat! How many times do I have to tell you!” Only once. Well, he answered his own question.

Seokjin shot up from the bed, hitting the tray of delicious and still hot food that his girlfriend spent an hour on. The soup and drink spilled over her t-shirt that could be passed as a kid’s; burning her chest as well as her arms and legs as they were exposed thanks to her short shorts. The rice and meat going all over the floor and the glass dropping onto her foot, leaving a slight gash from the impact.

His girlfriend’s shocked and hurt shout echoed throughout the room as she stepped back slightly, looking at Seokjin’s eyes with hurt eyes.

“What’s wrong with you Seokjin!?”

“How many times have I told you I didn’t want to eat?!”

“Like once because they were the only words you had spoken to me ever since you came home! I was getting food ready for you and I made the bed and cleaned the house because I know it was going to be a tough day for you! And yet, you come home and you act like this?!”

“Well sorry my life isn’t as simple like yours! Unlike you, I’m actually making a living unlike you! What are you doing?! Sitting around taking my money and repaying me back by making me food?! You’re worthless!” Jin couldn’t control his anger. His ego was too much because he was already angry enough and he didn’t want to back down.

But he knew, he was in the wrong.

“Wh…what?” Her voice became a whisper and her grasp weakened on the tray as her eyes dropped to the floor.

Seokjin’s eyes widened when his words digested in his head. A small smile slipped on her face as she continued to stare at the floor.

Ah yes, it’s that thing she done when she was trying to stop herself from crying. From smiling, to biting her lip, to curling her toes and fingers, and even hitting her own chest; she hated crying. And Jin knew that.

Jin felt like an ass when he saw her bend down and lightly set down the tray. Picking up the dropped rice and meat into her baby hands, she threw them all back onto the tray.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave you be.” Her voice was barely a whisper and it made the room feel like ice.

He watched as she quickly scurried out of the room and down the stairs, soft sniffles could be heard as she paced down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Jin wanted to run after her and apologise for being such a dick for no reasons, other than simply because he was sick and tired of being picked on. But he couldn’t. There was something in him that made him freeze, shutting down all of his ability to move; like it was a discipline - he had to stand there and look at what he had caused.

Jungkook made a pained sound, somewhere between a whimper and a groan. You ignored it and stared into the corner of the room.

“How would it look?”

Your obscure and strange questions never failed to make Jungkook fall in love with you. That was during the first month of being together. Within weeks, you revealed yourself as an avid fan of Studio Ghibli and wanderlust and philosophical discoveries.

Jungkook didn’t answer. He doesn’t quite know what the inside of his heart looks like. Maybe it looks like another little heart, the one you’d find inside your body. You had a hot air balloon for a heart heart.

“Are you using the word ‘metaphysical’ correctly?” Jungkook avoided the question, a poke at your pride as a philosopher. “I don’t think you’re doing it right.”

“God, shut up,” You whined, jabbing him lightly in the ribs.

“If I do, will you let me make-out with you and grab your butt?” Jungkook asked, eyes widening. He moved his hands from his crotch to your legs. Immediately, he began to rub circles into your thigh.

You pretended to consider.

He smiled, all canines, and kissed you as soon as your face tilted his way. You laughed against his lips.

You had too much wanderlust, didn’t you?

Jungkook bought you a huge suitcase as a gag gift/real gift on your twenty-third birthday. It was full of little home-made gifts, and a few trinkets from antique stores, an eye shadow pallet you’d been drooling over and two plane tickets to Amsterdam.

Jungkook saw, for a moment, a flash of intense emotion and longing cross your features.

“Why is this so big?” You questioned, part incredulous and part amazed. You organized the three cute stuffed animals in a line at your feet.

Jungkook pulled out his phone.

“Because when we travel, you’ll probably be a really stupid spender,” Jungkook informed you, and snapped a photo of your outraged expression. Then another of your bright smile.

“I love you a lot, fuck. I do. I want to spend the rest of my slowly-wasting lie with you.”

“You’re so drunk, babe.”

“Yoongi… Hyung, he told me that after twenty-five, you begin to die. That’s your last growth, physically. You begin to whither.”

“Why are you choosing now to be a poet?” You laughed, scratching a slow hand through Jungkook’s hand.

He keened. “Don’t know. I fell in love and I’m an artist.”

“A martial artist, that is.”

“My body is art.”

“That’s true,” You laughed, loudly.

On your twenty-fourth birthday, you mother sends you money and your immediate thought doesn’t go to tripping it across the world with Jungkook. It is your studies and the exchange program to Canada. It is he won’t let me go, he loves me too much, I can do it, he loves me too much, I’ll fucking ruin him, I’m so selfish.

“Why do you look so sad?”

The tension builds, slowly and steadily, like the darkness of clouds after a sunny and hot day. Your room feels less like yours and more like ours. And once you want to leave, Jungkook is no longer a boyfriend but a burden, and his “I love you” is something you return out of common courtesy, a fucking lie, wishing the “I love you” would turn into “I need you to leave” but it doesn’t. Instead, it becomes heated.

You’re cold, Jungkook is fiery, and isn’t that what a tropical storm is made up of?

Jungkook goes to work and comes back to a quiet apartment.

During the third month on the seventh day of the second week, fourth hour, twenty-six minutes past, perhaps off by a few seconds, Jungkook stopped counting. It was a waste of time.

Obsessions–addictions–are more than just a few swallowed pills and beads of sweat. They are roughened palms and cut up fingers, scratching marks into walls trying to remember the day you didn’t return, turning twenty-five and throwing away plane tickets that were meant to be used two days before blowing out dripping candles. They are Jungkook’s phone, lying shattered on the ground after the second week.

He has a little scars between his fingers and on his palm from picking up the pieces of glass. Greasy hair. Reddened skin. Ignoring the scars and pretending to hold your hand through gripping the sheets from the empty side of his bed, cold from the outside’s winter weather, definitely not fucking warmed by a beautiful body.

Jungkook began counting after the first week. Or the second. So maybe he’s a bit off, but there had been the initial panic and heartbreak and drinking, wondering why the closet wasn’t a mess of dresses and shoes. No note.

After you left, your words ran through his head nonstop.

Jungkook can’t say your name anymore. The fourth month (he stopped counting, he swears, this one is just a rough estimate) passed by with coughing lungs and no alcohol. Namjoon calls him out. He just can’t sleep well if he doesn’t smoke.

If he says your name, it’s usually during the night and it’s during a recurring nightmare where your body is still next to his–on top of his–and you’re welcoming prettily, where he breathes in your love and exhales, quietly,  “Y/N.” Jungkook’s eyes snap open. The warm night and hot sweat suddenly turns to chill. Metaphorically, there is one warm thing about him.

Metaphorically, Jungkook has your heart inside of him. At least he thought he did. It feels like he does. A hurting, huge, fired-up bruise under his chest had been there during the first three months.

Now it’s different. It’s like a chilly meadow in between two mountains. There is a single target, a practice target for archers, and on it is Jungkook’s heart. The meadow is his flesh and intestines and you stand at the bottom of a cliff with the steepest drop, notching an arrow on a bow nearly the size of your body.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked. Jungkook’s head shot up, eyes moving from his lap to Jimin’s hands, where he was pouring a substantial amount of white sugar into a cup of coffee. He pushed it to Jungkook.

Jungkook took the coffee.

He’d been drinking it black lately.

(Like your heart.)

(Jungkook takes it back. Your heart was red and beating and wild, probably more alive than his was.)

“I’m okay, thanks.”

Jungkook finds out, a year later, that you have returned. Hoseok told him.

Fifteen months.

You thought it was a dream when you had met your boyfriend. Though he was different than what your ideal type was, he was shining like a star when you laid eyes upon the tall, broad shouldered man that was ordering a medium sized pumpkin spiced latte on an early October morning. The brown leaves falling from the high trees outside as the street was littered with people and cars.

It seemed like a typical October day, but there was something inside of you that told you something different was going to happen today.

Unconsciously you found yourself ordering the same cup and ended up going the same direction as him when the two of you left the warm and busy cafe. Only when you had reached a crossing was when you had realised he might think you were following him. So, you slowed down a lot more than what you had originally paced at, but thanks to your heels it made it obvious that the man knew you were heading the same direction as him.

“Do those shoes not hurt your feet?” His voice was deep. Not too deep, but not particularly high either. You immediately glanced at him, making sure he was speaking to you.

“U-uh, not really. I’ve been walking in these for quite some time now so I-I’m used to them,” you chuckle awkwardly, unconsciously placing one foot over the other. Something you’d like to do when you were in an awkward position like this, or else you were waiting for something.

“Your shoes are nice,” he lastly spoke before the dinging sound went off to indicate that pedestrians were allowed to walk safely to the other side. It caught you off guard for sure, making you almost late to cross the road before the green man turned red.

Heels clicking on the hard pavement, you caught up to the tall man but struggled to walk at the same speed. His long legs were allowing him to stride easily, but with the help of your short legs accompanied by 5 inch heels, they weren’t the most helpful when it came to walking quickly.

“T-thank you,” you heaved out when he finally slowed down for you. Laughing, he shook his head and looked at you, immediately locking eyes with yours and you could feel yourself heat up under his eyes.

“Seokjin.” He smiled. Gosh, if you thought his structure and broad shoulders were amazing, his smile was breathtaking.

“______,” you shyly replied, an embarrassing smile slipped onto your face before he held his hand out. “Nice to meet you,” putting yours in his, you had knew this was going to change you.

Through the months, you two had gotten closer and closer, to the point where sometimes people would mistaken you as a couple. Embarrassingly declining, Seokjin would always let out a hearty laugh afterwards every time. Though you told yourself you two were not going to be any more than best friends, you couldn’t help but fall into that ditch called love.

So when it happened - you and him, it was a miracle - a blessing as some people would call it. Fate even.

“I love you. You know that?” He had said once, when the two of you were at the beach one late summer evening, watching the sunset while holding hands and sitting at the back of his Range Rover covered by a thin but ridiculously warm blanket and pillows.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He’d continue. “You’re beautiful, you’re sweet, your laugh is so melodic and if I could I’d listen to you talk all day because your voice is so mesmerising.” Taking your hand in his, he’d play with it. Rolling around your knuckles for the fun of it before pressing gently on the palm and back of your hand, bringing it up to his mouth and placing a delicate kiss onto it.

“I get intoxicated by your scent and your hair is so soft, I just want to run my hands through them all the time.” He leaned over and gently pecked your temple. Your eyes closed at the sensation with a small smile on your face; taking in the beautiful words that came out of his mouth.

“I could go on, but we’d be here for eternity if I did.” Finishing it off, he had brought your face towards his and connected your lips. It was soft, sweet and loving at first; making sure you had realised that he was not joking. His love for you meant everything to him. Then it got dominant and heated; showing you that he, as a man, can pleasure you and keep you happy at all times.

You were certain the two of you were going to go far in life together.

But, the only difference was those people didn’t know you two properly. They didn’t know how you two got on, they didn’t know you properly, they didn’t know him.

People had warned you - your closest friends, your family, even your neighbours sometimes.

“Be careful of that boy now, there’s something fishy about him.” Their words would ring inside your head when Seokjin never replied to any of your calls or texts, or takes a ridiculously long time to - and usually ends up replying at an odd time early in the morning the day afterwards.

They warned you, but you didn’t care. You were already in too deep. You couldn’t help it anymore.

It was fine, though. The accusations that bubbled inside your head with the feeling of slight fear, curiosity and paranoia popped after his group of buddies confirmed his doings last night, making you sigh with relief and happiness; mentally scolding yourself for thinking such a thing.

It was fine.

Until it happened often. A day every two weeks ended up being two days every weeks, to four days every week, to 5 days including the weekends.

With the help of college - or university in Seokjin’s case - and part time work, seeing each other over the weeks was difficult. It was difficult and sometimes ended up in anger and cold shoulders, no calls and refusal to text back.

You were already stressed enough. All you wanted was to cuddle up in a ball beside your boyfriend sleeping away the stress and dazing off to the sound of your boyfriend’s beautiful humming.

He changed you. You didn’t know what he changed or how he done it, but you knew he had changed you.

His looks when you were overly hyper in public made you self conscious about yourself, no longer wanting to be an embarrassment to him anymore so you stopped and acted cold when you were in public. The stares he had directed to prettier females in expensive branded clothing shops and flirtatious smiles towards people who weren’t you.

You didn’t know what had gone wrong, but you weren’t you anymore.

He got what he wanted from you, and the result of that was him turning to other females for things you couldn’t offer to him.

Especially that one day, when you had caught him with someone you knew fairly well.

Business student. Her classroom was a level below from yours in college but directly under the room you were situated in. She was one of the top students in her class, and despite you being a music student you knew very well she was all brains, but even more beauty.

At first, it didn’t surprise you. She was prettier, she was smarter, she possibly could have brought more luck and fortune into Seokjin’s life than you could. All you could do was know how to tell what was wrong with an animal and work on it and play a few instruments and sing. How was that going to benefit your boyfriend?

But then, it kicked in. The emotions. The fear, the anger, the jealousy. The you who he had changed and made you turn into. Your overprotective, paranoid, cold self.

“I love you, you know that?” Huh, that sounded familiar.

“You’re beautiful, you’re sweet, your laugh is so melodic and if I could I’d listen to you talk all day because your voice is so mesmerising.” No wonder he was a drama student in uni. He had remembered lines quicker than anything and he had great acting skills.

Maybe that’s why he went with you. You were just a practice for him. Rehearsal, if you’d like to call it.

He used you. He used you to get an understanding on how females would react to such beautiful words like that. But of course, as soon as they were spoken to another girl they turned bitter and disgusting to you.

Disgusted with yourself how you fell for a man like him. You thought he was different. You hoped he was different. It didn’t match his physique. The nerdy, quiet looking man who studied a lot and cared a lot about family. It didn’t match his personality. His quote-unquote, loving and caring personality that all elders would praise as the sweetest personality ever. He had changed. Just like you.

“I could go on, but we’d be here for eternity if I did.”

You scoffed.

It was strange. Anger, pain, sadness should be running through you. The thought of breaking up with him in the harshest way, making him feel guilty and make his heart drop to the pit of his stomach should be the only plan you could think of. Questions should be running through your head.

But it wasn’t. You weren’t fine - you weren’t properly thinking either; but you weren’t feeling any of that, anyway.

You just feel… Guilty?

You felt guilty, because you only wanted him. Possession… Obsession… Regret and guilt.

You knew he was no good to you anymore. You knew he was as dirty as a sewer rat. You knew, he wasn’t the one.

You didn’t need him.

But… you wanted him.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to cry in anger, forcefully hit him to show him how much it hurt you. You wanted to make him regret doing that to you.

But you were selfish. You were so mean to yourself.

No matter how much you told yourself to leave him, abandon him like he abandoned you…

You held onto him. You let him hurt you.

Yoongi tries to think about pretty Jimin passing out when he ran into Yoongi again even though he had done so a few seconds before. He thinks about Jimin with widening eyes, wonder evident when Yoongi told him what he could do. They went to a random part of the city and Yoongi showed Jimin what it looked like before there was a city.

“Trees?” Jimin had asked. Yoongi could hear the disappointment, like that one time Jimin went to go see the live-action Avatar: The Last Airbender.

“What did you expect?” Yoongi returned, raising a brow.

Jimin shrugged in return, kicking a bundle of grass. “I dunno… hey, do you think maybe we could see the future?”

“Sure, Jimin-ah.”

Yoongi doesn’t want to think of the men holding him hostage, or of Jimin dying against a rusted wall. A spaceship flying to beautiful places was supposed to be their future.

“I only have two more,” Yoongi revealed, pointing to a small tattoo behind his ear. Graduation had been a blast. He wanted Jimin, but they were going to different universities.

“Two? Of traveling?” Jimin scooted closer, cool fingers pushing Yoongi’s black hair to the side to get a better look. Yoongi nodded, and Jimin bit his lip with a little, secretive smile. “Let’s leave.”

“Leave? Where? Why?”

“Hyung, please calm down,” Jimin laughed, smiling when Yoongi glared at him without bite. He brushed a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek, saying, “I don’t want to work for the rest of my life. We should go where we can… go up there.” Jimin gestured to the sky.

Yoongi agreed. They left for 100 years into the future.

However.

A couple of thugs and that was ruined. Yoongi felt it was a way for the universe to punish him for cheating. He read once that time waits for no one.

Yoongi breathes in sharply, ignoring the smell of stale air, and uses all his strength to pull out of the overweight man’s hold. He says, “Rewind, rewind, fucking rewind!” His words make a tear in his throat.

Yoongi runs into a hard chest on May 12th, 2015.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Oh! Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Park Jimin smiles sheepishly, breathtakingly.

Yoongi should think it is beautiful, but he sees no love and the memory of death, so he just nods. “It’s alright,” he says gruffly.

High school goes on. As it turns out, Park Jimin transfers to another academy, closer to where he is training for BigHit entertainment.

Right, then. It only makes sense Jimin lives for the extraordinary.

Yoongi doesn’t cry unless he has nightmares of pirates and of Jimin holding his waist, whispering, “I’m afraid.”

“I still cannot believe this. All of this feels like a dream. Please don’t disappear...”

It felt like just yesterday they had the best time of their life. It felt like just yesterday, they got back from that painful 2 hour journey back from one of the biggest beaches in Korea; laughing and sharing jokes despite being drained and exhausted. 

It felt like just yesterday, their minds were worry free and all they cared about was who was going to buy the pizza for dinner.

Jin sat on a plain, old and scratched bench in front of 5 caskets. The comfort was nowhere near as pleasant as the caskets, but he was happy he was sitting here than being in there.

Just yesterday, he had found out his 6 friends had committed suicide.

“Will you stay by my side? Will you promise me? If I land a finger on you, I’m afraid that you will fly away or break.”

“Jin hyung, Jin hyung! What are we eating for dinner today?” He could hear Jimin’s voice in his head as he stared at the sky blue casket with his peaceful body in it, mixing in with Jimin’s skin as it was as pale as the clouds and the icy water they had found him in. Jimin was so loveable, Jin was never angry with Jimin. He was a little ball of happiness that followed his older ball of happiness around radiating and spreading the love and happiness. Jin will definitely miss his smiles and cheerful laughter around the house.

Eyes skimming torturously slow to the next one, he felt his tears a few tears drip. Though it wasn’t a casket it was a dark burning shade of orange; just like the colours of the flames that ignited around Yoongi. Yoongi was someone he felt like he could relate the most to, despite the personality clashes. 

“The kids were so loud today,” he could hear Young’s groans as he fell onto the bed beside Jin’s followed by Jin’s own laugh. “They’re kids, let them be.” Jin’s voice echoed. He sounded so happy. Happier than he is currently, and will be in the next few years or so.

Glancing at the mixed colours that looked like bruises - the red and black casket, he chuckled. “Hyung~~ can we buy some Iron Man action figures today? I heard there were new models, and plus I can increase my collection!!” Jungkook’s excited voice rang out as he tugged on Jin’s sleeve. After being left deserted in the street covered in blood-soaked clothing, Jin lost his smile. The precious baby of the group was gone just like that.

Laying preciously beside the youngest, was also one of his favourite people in the entire world. Surrounded with yellow daffodils and orchids, was the ball of sunshine himself; Hoseok. Hoseok’s death hit Jin the most because despite thinking he knew Hoseok inside out, when he was upset, angry, alone, he still didn’t see through the thick doors he was hiding behind. The thick doors of depression. Hoseok was such a bubbly boy, it pained Jin the most seeing such a happy boy fall into something as scary as depression. 

“Hyung... WAKE UP!! WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP~~~!” Hoseok’s voice would screech in Jin’s ear, startling him, making him fall out of bed as Hoseok cackled away at the irritated male. “Cheer up hyung! It’s a bright and sunny day today! Smile~!” 

The next one, which was oddly and irritatingly pale white, laid Namjoon’s ashes. Jin hated looking at it. Simply because it was white - white was supposed to symbolise life and happiness, purity and peace. Not to be the colour of one of his closest and most dearest friend’s box filled with his ashes. He hated it. He hated it so much. “Hyung, help me out here,” Namjoon would always ask Jin to accompany him or help him with the songs or poems he’d write occasionally. “Do you think this sounds nice here?” or “Do you think this makes sense? I’ve been looking at this for too long that it’s gone all weird for me,” Namjoon’s low chuckle could be heard after his string of words. He missed him too damn much. Namjoon was supposed to be the leader of this group, the person who guides the way for the rest of the team while we all support each other. Why did he have to go, too?

Last but not least, the last casket. The last survivor, before he also turned to depression. Kim Taehyung. 

Kim Taehyung was a special one. Although he was just like Jimin and Hoseok, his mindset was so different and so... odd that it wasn’t just comprehendible at times. 

But at the end, Jin understood every single word that had came out of the boy’s mouth.

“Hyung-,” he’d start off. “Do you like butterflies?” 

“Butterflies? That’s an odd question... but yes, I do. Why?”

“Butterflies are so beautiful. They’re so free, they can roam anywhere they want...” 

“But they’re also very fragile things, Taehyung. Don’t forget that butterflies may be free, but they’re also caged because they can’t go far or do anything adventurous because they are so fragile.” Jin replied.

“Hyung, promise me you’ll stay by my side forever?” Taehyung held out his pinky. “I promise, Taehyung. I’ll stay by your side and everyone’s side until the very end.” Jin hooked his own pinky around Taehyung’s, sealing the promise with a smile. “I promise too, hyung.”

“I’m afraid, afraid, afraid. Will you stop the time if this moment passes? I’m afraid that you’ll forget me, and act like nothing happened. I’m afraid, afraid, afraid...”

You lied to me. You fucking lied to me, you bastard. You’re so fucking mean Taehyung, why did you lie to me and go off like that? Jin felt anger bubble inside of him. Anger tears formed and immediately dripped from his eyes like a rainfall. Never ending and hard. 

It was so painful... It was so painful to look at the very last casket with Taehyung’s body, with the image of Taehyung’s smile etched in Jin’s head. It was so fucking painful, that Jin started shaking.

“Hyung~ what would happen if we stopped being friends?” Jimin’s curious voice rang out. “Don’t be silly Jimin, that’ll never happen,” Jin sighed annoyingly at the question and Yoongi slapped Jimin on the back of the head. “But... it is a question... Sometimes I think about that myself...” Taehyung replied, earning a smack from Yoongi as well. Jin sighed and closed his eyes. “I reassure you, we’re never going to split up okay? And even if we do- which won’t happen! - We’ll never forget one another, for sure. We’ll always remember each other, no matter what road we take or where we go in life, we’ll always be in each other’s mind. Forever. We’re brothers, brothers never forget each other; especially not us.” Jin said in a heartbeat. The whole camp went quiet and the only sound that was heard was the fire crackling in the logs, placed in the middle of the 7 boys on a dark, Tuesday night outside their house. It was a nice little get together, but Jin felt as if it was ruined after that question.

“Butterfly, like a butterfly, like a butterfly... Butterfly, like a butterfly, like a butterfly.”

Don’t forget me, you assholes. Rest in peace up there. I’ll miss you guys so much. Jin prayed once again before getting up out of his seat - all eyes turning towards him. He walked confidently out the double doors of the church with tears clouding his eyes.