The secret that killed us • maknae line x BTS

7 - Vices (1)

TW// sexual assault. Pls proceed with caution. 

THIRD POV

Mornings were always a bright yellow for Jimin. He had designated that color to this specific period of the larger 24 hours. It felt fitting too.

The sun warmed the air like a well-needed hug during harsh winters or teased with a playful burn of an overly enthusiastic friend during exhaustingly sweaty summers, either way, it was friendly and welcoming. It was symbolic of a new beginning, a new canvas for a plethora of renewed choices, decisions, and paths.

Except now all Jimin could feel when he felt the sunlight creating a warm presence on his back was that it felt foreign. The warmth felt immensely foreign to him. It wasn't welcoming and he half knew he was imagining it but it felt like it was taunting him. Taunting him and his, now, cold heart.

You are never gonna feel warm again.

Never.

How could someone take that away from him?

How could something so essential like warmth be taken away from him?

Prometheus gave it to them for a reason, no?

The young brown-haired man shivered as he wrapped the blankets tighter around himself to try and make it feel warmer and simultaneously shield himself from the uncomfortable touch of the invading sunlight.

And then he remembered. He remembered.

Jimin remembered as his mind rewinded back to the moment he saw the light, the warmth, the life leave a certain someone's eyes.

Oh.

I took it from myself.

Taehyung- No.

No.

He frantically shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought. He could never blame his best friend. He would never blame Taehyung for what happened. He couldn't.

Would it be better if one of us was dead instead of him?

Jimin's eyes flashed wide open in panic. He felt so utterly so angry at the thought yet a sense of resolve seeped in at the conclusion he had come to in this short yet distressing internal interrogation.

Absolutely not. Taehyung saved us. All three of us.

And yet the resolve dissipated as soon as it had come.

Jimin groaned as he rubbed his eyes in frustration at the familiar pang of a certain emotion creeping into his heart. The young man breathed out a sigh, as he reluctantly got up to check the time on the alarm clock standing on the bedside table.

10:04 A.M.

Well, that was late. For Jimin, at least.

Even though he had an irregular schedule being an idol, he had a lot more discipline than people saw. And with that came a habit of waking up earlier than most people so it was only fair that somewhere inside him, it felt wrong to wake up late even if he was on vacation or tired.

He sighed again and thought to lay back down, as much as that one part of him strictly told him not to, but his gaze landed upon the two other visible items on the table, the crystal carvings on one of them shining under the peaking sunlight that had bothered Jimin in the first place.

He didn't know what he was doing. Just that he was doing something. Something other than sulking in guilt and despair.

Well, he was still doing that. And he didn't how doing it not sober made it any better or different but just that it made it easier. It made it easier to not give into the urge to bang his head on the wall every other minute.