Restless

Quand serai-je prêt?

He cracks open an eye as soon as he hears the door click shut, Namjoon sits up, not even realizing he'd been asleep.

"You should really take a break," Jimin scolds him as he strips himself of his jacket and shoes, setting his keys in the little wooden bowl by the entrance, "You look terrible."

"I just have a cold Minnie," Namjoon countered, "and did you, or did you not just see me sleeping."

"You know that's not the same thing," Jimin pouted, slumping down on the couch next to Namjoon, a tired look on his face.

"You look like you could use some rest too y'know," Namjoon stretches his arms over his head, his voice strained.

Jimin waves him off, "I get a little sleepy after I do a connection, I'll be fine."

"Why did you use your connection?"

"A friend was having some withdrawal symptoms, I was just making sure he was okay."

"Is he?"

"Yeah, he's good, or he will be in a few days."

"Oh," Namjoon mumbles, "so he's just got a bug?"

"Not exactly, but it's a long story," Jimin taps Namjoon's knee over his sweatpants, "Now c'mon, you need sleep."

When Namjoon wakes, his arms feel frigid, his teeth chatter at an alarming rate as he wraps his blankets tighter around him, whatever sickness he was experiencing last night multiplies tenfold, and it's because of him.

Namjoon will never be able to escape the image of Seokjin now, not after his slumber.

It was the same park, the same set of grass he finds himself laying time and time again, the same clear sky, dusted with splatters of stars and whirls of faded clouds. He closes his eyes and allows himself a deep breath, savoring the crisp air flowing all around him.

He's shattered out of the peace when he hears, "Fancy seeing you here."

Namjoon doesn't need to open his eyes to know who's voice that is, yet it startles him all the same. By the time he's sitting forward and backing away, Seokjin is already laying next to him, dazed and staring at the cosmos.

"It's nice," he whispers, "dreaming is nice."

Namjoon doesn't have anything to say in reply, so he doesn't.

Seokjin doesn't seem to mind, he continues mumbling anyway, "I used to like it because I didn't have to exist for a little while, I could just be alone, and be myself and I wouldn't have a thing to worry about."

The silence doesn't last very long, "I used to like it because I was free, or at least I thought I was," he pauses, Namjoon sees a tear escape his eye, it matches the crack in his voice, "And then I met you, and dreaming had lost its meaning."

"I didn't care about where I was, what I was doing," Seokjin's voice continues to grow unsteady, "As long as I was with you, I was happy."

Seokjin looks over at Namjoon then, "I haven't felt happiness in years, but the night you saw me on the roof, I felt it, and I didn't want to let that go."

"Seokjin-"

"I love you," He blurts, tears relentlessly falling from his eyes, "I love you and it breaks my heart because I will never see you, and I don't know how to live with myself knowing that I hurt you, knowing that I can't love you!"

"Seokjin," Namjoon sits forward and takes Seokjin's face into his hands, gentle as ever, as if he's caressing a flower, "as long as you dream, I'll be here, with you."