"He was fire, I was Ice. We were too different, yet we were just the same."
-
Everything bad was happening to Jin all at once that he was certain he'd burned down a nation in his previous life. His world was freefalling and he just needed an escape...
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Namjoon was peeling a boiled egg in the kitchen when I got downstairs. A bowl of oat with chopped bananas and strawberries were in a bowl next to a glass of orange juice.
He looked up at me as I entered the room and pushed the tray towards me. "When'd you get back?" I asked, taking a seat at the table before drinking a large amount of juice, feeling very dehydrated.
"Last night," he said, dropping a peeled egg on my tray before leaning against the counter and just watching me. "Although, you were nowhere to be found when I got here, but then you came back home much later pretending to be fine but completely drunk and reeking of alcohol."
Shit. I looked down at the food in front of me and grabbed a spoon. "Yeah. I went to, uh,..." I couldn't find words. I didn't know what to say. I looked back up at Namjoon and he was staring down at me, waiting.
I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't lie to him or omit this information anymore. I nodded to myself, feeling my stomach twist from anxiety. "I was with... Jungkook."
"How long?"
I felt like I was under interrogation. Like the words I said from this moment mattered and would determine a lot of important things. Namjoon looked more serious than normal.
"A few days after the library incident," I answered. I had no intention of holding back anything again. I was going to be completely honest to Namjoon now. My friendship with him meant more than the unease in my stomach.
He didn't respond, he just stared at me. His eyes glazed with something I couldn't quite place. A look I didn't quite like.
"It was the day I found out my dad was dying. Jungkook was there to talk me through it," I explained further. "You were right, okay? He's a good guy. And it wasn't like I was hiding it from you, I just didn't know what we were. I still don't know."
He nodded slowly, his face screwing into a disapproving expression. "Right. But you never talk to me about your dad. Every time I bring it up, you act like I'm the enemy and the messenger of bad news."
"You know it's not that. But my dad hurt me a—"
"Exactly. He hurt you but I don't know how much because you never want to talk about it. You shut me out completely and everything I know, I heard it from your mum. But you're so comfortable sharing it with someone you met zero seconds ago."
"I didn't want to burden you with my problems. You know how much you mean to me," I explained, my head about to explode from aching so much.
"Bullshit!" He snapped, his voice going over the roof. "I'm your best friend, it is my duty to be burdened by your problems. Are you telling me if I were in your position and my dad was dying, you'd ditch me? You'd not want me to burden you with my problem?"
If he were to ever be in my position, I'd walk every mile of the journey by his side. I'd go to sleep and wake up with his pain in my heart. I'd be with him and make sure I remind him it was going to be fine. I wouldn't do to him what I was making him do to me.
