Jimin sat on the bed, flipping through the old photographs with a faint smile, but there was a weight in his chest he couldn’t shake. The sun was setting, casting a golden light across the room, yet all Jimin could feel was the dull ache of the past. He paused on one picture, taken years ago—Jungkook had his arm around him, both of them laughing, eyes crinkled in pure happiness.
A time that felt so far away now.
The phone buzzed next to him, and Jimin's heart clenched when he saw Jungkook’s name flash across the screen. “Hey, I’m almost home. Missed you today.”
Jimin’s smile was faint. A message like this, years ago, might have soothed him, reassured him that their love was enough. But not today. He couldn’t shake the lingering tension between them, the way they’d been tiptoeing around each other lately, pretending everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.
He let out a long sigh, tossing the phone aside and burying his face in his hands. How did things get so complicated? They had survived so much already—the distance, the doubts—but now, the cracks were showing again, and this time, Jimin wasn’t sure if love alone could fix them.
The door creaked open, and Jungkook stepped in. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice warm, though Jimin could hear the slight hesitation in it. He walked over, leaning down to kiss Jimin’s temple, but Jimin pulled away, just slightly, enough to make Jungkook pause.
“Is something wrong?” Jungkook asked, frowning.
Jimin shook his head, though the words he wanted to say burned in his throat. “No, I’m fine.”
“Fine?” Jungkook repeated, his tone sharper than he intended. “Jimin, come on. You’ve been distant for days. You barely look at me, and when I ask what’s wrong, you shut me out. Talk to me.”
Jimin looked up at him, eyes filled with frustration and hurt. “What do you want me to say, Jungkook? That everything’s fine when it’s not?”
Jungkook’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s not fine? I don’t understand—"
“Exactly,” Jimin interrupted, his voice trembling with the weight of unsaid things. “You don’t understand, Jungkook. You’re always so busy, so wrapped up in everything else that you don’t even notice when I’m struggling. I feel like I’m just here, waiting for you to see me again.”
Jungkook’s mouth fell open slightly, taken aback by the sudden outburst. “That’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising. “I’m doing everything I can for us. For you. You think I don’t notice? I’m the one working long hours, making sure we have a future! But you—you're the one pushing me away!”
“I’m not pushing you away!” Jimin snapped, standing up, his heart racing. “I just… I feel like I’m losing you. Like we’re slipping apart, and I’m trying so hard to hold on, but you’re not even there!”
Jungkook’s hands clenched into fists, his frustration boiling over. “You’re not the only one struggling, Jimin! You act like it’s easy for me, like I don’t miss you every second I’m away. But I’m doing this for us, can’t you see that?”
Jimin’s eyes filled with tears, and his voice cracked as he spoke. “Then why does it feel like I’m the only one trying? Why does it feel like I’m not enough for you anymore?”
Jungkook’s face softened at the sight of Jimin’s tears, but his anger still simmered beneath the surface. “You’re more than enough for me,” he said, his voice quieter now, “but sometimes it feels like you don’t trust me. Like you’re always waiting for me to mess up, to leave.”
