Echoes of Us 💛

Wounds That Won't Heal

The following day felt like a blur for Jimin. Rehearsal ran longer than expected, and he found himself pushing the dancers harder than usual, frustrated by small mistakes he normally would’ve brushed off. But the tightness in his chest never eased, his mind always drifting back to the inevitable conversation with Yoongi.

By the time the final run-through finished, sweat dripped down his temples, and his muscles ached from hours of practice. But none of that compared to the dread that had settled deep in his stomach.

He knew he couldn’t put this off any longer.

As the dancers filed out of the studio, offering tired waves and goodbyes, Jimin lingered, taking slow, deliberate breaths to steady himself. He wiped his face with a towel, glancing at the clock. Yoongi would be here any minute.

“Are you staying late again?” Junho’s voice startled him, and Jimin turned to see the director leaning against the doorway, watching him with a concerned look.

Jimin shook his head, managing a faint smile. “No, I’ll be out soon. Just need to finish a few things.”

Junho gave him a long look, clearly sensing that something was off, but he didn’t push. “Alright. See you tomorrow, then.”

As soon as Junho left, the studio fell into silence, the only sound being the distant hum of the air conditioning. Jimin stared at the mirrored walls, his reflection tired and frayed at the edges. His mind raced with what he would say to Yoongi. How could he even begin to unravel everything that had been left unsaid for five years?

The door creaked open, and Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat. He didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Hey.” Yoongi’s voice was quiet but firm, like a wave breaking against the shore, steady and constant.

Jimin turned slowly, eyes locking onto Yoongi’s. He was still in his usual black hoodie and sweatpants, a look so familiar it almost hurt to see. Yoongi looked the same—yet different. His eyes held the same intensity, but there was something deeper now. Something weary.

“Hey,” Jimin echoed, standing straighter, clutching the towel in his hands as if it could anchor him. “You wanted to talk?”

Yoongi nodded, stepping further into the studio, but keeping his distance. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his gaze briefly flicking to the floor before landing back on Jimin. “Yeah. I think we should.”

Jimin exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around the towel. “Okay.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable, filled with all the things they hadn’t said for years.

Yoongi cleared his throat, glancing away for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. “It’s been a long time.”

Five years. A lifetime. Jimin almost scoffed, but instead, he nodded, keeping his voice even. “Yeah. It has.”

Yoongi shifted on his feet, his hands still deep in his pockets, as if he didn’t trust himself to let them free. “I don’t know how to start this… there’s a lot I want to say.”

Jimin swallowed, feeling his heart race in his chest. He had waited for this moment, but now that it was here, he didn’t know if he could handle it.

“Then just say it,” Jimin said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yoongi met his eyes, and for the first time in years, Jimin saw something raw and vulnerable in his gaze. “I never wanted it to end like that.”

Jimin’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as old wounds reopened. The breakup had been so sudden, so cold. He had been left without answers, with nothing but a gaping hole where their love had once been.