pastel pink | yoonmin

fucsia

Yoongi knew very well he had been a coward.

He had run away from the love of his life and he had been a coward.

Jimin's teary eyes and confused whispers now tortured him like burning chains, haunted his mind like the worst nightmare.

Seeing how much he already missed Jimin, if Yoongi would have been able to find the courage, he would have gone back inside the apartment the moment he had closed the door. He wanted to see him again, to kiss him again, but he was scared and ashamed.

He didn't give Jimin time to take in his words nor even the possibility to say anything. He had just run away like a child, scared, terrified.

As he walked down the dark streets of his neighbourhood and his tears fell freely on the already wet asphalt, his feet sinking in small puddles here and there created by the heavy rain that had fallen at some point during the afternoon, he heard his phone ring from time to time.

It came as a distant sound, like his phone wasn't in his pocket but somewhere far away, where he couldn't reach it in any way, even if he wanted to.

He would have wanted to answer, because he knew very well which name would have appeared on his phone screen if he had found the strength to take it out and look at it.

Jimin was calling and texting him repeatedly and Yoongi just felt so lost, so terribly stuck that he wasn't able to even think of picking up.

There were only a few people around, and some of them surpassed Yoongi on the sidewalk but he barely noticed them.

"I'm sorry hyung"

Yoongi closed his eyes.

Somebody ran into him and hit his shoulder in the process. Whoever that person was also told him something in a loud voice, but everything was so blurry. It felt like the rain, which had stopped long ago, was still falling in front of Yoongi's eyes. It was a heavy rain that prevented him from seeing anything around him.

On the other side of the road he knew there was Jimin's favourite cafè, the one where he always bought hot chocolate and sweets for the both of them when he came home early from work.

The owner was closing it right when Yoongi looked at it from the sidewalk and his phone rang again.

"I can't..." he murmured, probably to the wind or to Jimin's favourite cafè.

He looked back down at his hands, at the flimsy t-shirt he was wearing, which had a small, white stain that he couldn't get rid of, no matter how many times he had tried to wash it.

It was from when he and Jimin had repainted their apartment after moving in together.

He scrunched the fabric between his fingers at the memory.

He remembered Jimin looking at him when Yoongi had worn the t-shirt again, despite the stain not going away even after washing it three times. He had laughed brightly.

"At least you'll have a memory of this day!" he had said.

As if everything with Jimin wasn't already unforgettable.

"I don't want you to go, please"

Jimin wanted him to stay.

Inside the apartment, on that rainy evening, Jimin had asked him to stay and Yoongi, who had always promised to give Jimin everything, had decided to run away.

Just a few minutes ago, Jimin had asked him to stay.

His hands trembled as he started walking again, through those streets he knew so well, along sidewalks on which he had walked with Jimin thousands of times.