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It's almost midnight

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It's almost midnight.

Taehyung was only a few blocks away from the cafe he had closed. The way back to his house is unusually quiet, perhaps because of the bad weather, he thinks.

He's holding an umbrella in hand as he walks, can feel the hollow of the initials on the wooden part that comes to his palm.

The courageous decision he made yesterday to take it to Jimin, after a very short time with his guests, faded out as if it had never existed, and finally disappeared.

And today, he doesn't even know why he took it with him on the way out. In a moment that courage would come again and he would have an excuse to go to Jimin's door, maybe, even though inwardly he was thinking about it and not knowing.

Taehyung wasn't surprised to himself when his feet led him to a turn in the opposite direction from his house. As if he had planned to go there when he first came out, his steps follow each other without pausing, without letting him feel indecisive.

He had given himself only two places in the whole city where he could go without hesitation, one his house and the other an old park where no one visits anymore, that he's going now. It's a park with everything taken and destroyed, leaving only a few benches and the lights of a few streetlights surrounding it.

Incomplete, inadequate and abandoned. Just like how Taehyung feels.

That's why he feels a little less lonely when he's in this park, a little less lost here than in other places.

At the beginning of the stone road at the entrance of the park, he starts walking by rubbing the upper part of the umbrella he holds by the handle on the ground and listens to the sound it makes until it is stopped with the pause of his steps.

A hoarse voice accompanying a familiar song coming from inside the park was a beauty that should not be disturbed by the clicking sound made by that umbrella, so it stopped Taehyung.

He stood as if nailed on the ground. He can't go back because everything he finds beautiful enchants him. A voice, a photograph, a painting or a person. If Taehyung liked something, he had to admire it at that moment.

And now, as he's staring at the man lying on his back on an old bench that worn out all over, even the word beautiful is insufficient for what he is seeing.

One of his legs was hanging down from the end of the bench while the other was bent, and his leg was swaying slightly as he hummed along to the song playing from his phone, which he placed on his stomach.

He was facing directly to the sky, and he supported his head by putting one arm under it.

Every once in a while Taehyung could hear the sound of metal rings hitting on the screen of the phone he put his hand on.

Taehyung waited, watched.
The man was so far from reality. His presence, his beauty, his velvety voice caressing the night, every talent bestowed on him and the fact that his gaze at the sky is even brighter than it.. A person like Jimin could only be divine.

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