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a few days had passed, and jimin was back at the flower shop, his usual routine of arranging flowers feeling comforting yet distant, like he was going through the motions without truly being present.
the shop smelled sweet, a mix of fresh roses and lavender, the radio humming softly in the background. he was carefully placing daisies into a bouquet when a familiar song drifted through the speakers, freezing him in place.
his heart skipped, then started pounding harder.
he couldn't breathe.
his chest tightened, his hands trembling as the world around him blurred.
the song.
that song.
that fucking song.
it was the same one, from that night.
his vision began to tunnel, body sensations flooding him, the ones he tried so hard to keep buried. his breath caught in his throat, sharp and ragged, each inhale like trying to suck air through a straw.
he stumbled back, his fingers clawing at his neck, desperate to open his airway, but the grip on reality slipped away. his knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the cold floor.
it was all to fast, like he was sucked out of reality. lost the grip on it. gone.
he barely felt the impact, though his head banged against the tiles. there was pain, but it was distant, like it belonged to someone else.
jimin felt nothing.
the world faded out completely as his mind dragged him back to that horrible, dark place.
his ex's hands on him, the pain, the touches, the grips. the hot tears on his cheeks felt like fire, but his body was cold, freezing. he was shaking, he felt his muscles seizing. his arms were crossed in front of him, desperate to protect himself, but it was useless. he wasn't safe. his body wasn't his.
he was screaming, voice hoarse and broken, "no, no, no," but it wasn't enough. it never had been.
the front door of his mind crashed open again, windows shattered, all control lost.
when the shaking finally stopped, when the tears ran dry, jimin blinked back into reality. emptiness.
his body was still curled up on the floor of the shop, surrounded by broken vases, dirt, and flowers strewn across the tiles. his arms and legs were sore, his throat hurting from the screaming, but what hurt more was the shame.
he quickly wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, looking around frantically to see if anyone had been there, seen him. the world felt disjointed, like time had skipped forward without him.
he scrambled for his phone, fingers shaking, texting taehyung with one hand while using the other to push himself behind the counter, hiding his body from any possible view. he couldn't be out in the open, not like this, not when everything felt so raw, so vulnerable. he didn't want to be seen.
tae... can you come? please. i need you.
taehyung's reply was almost immediate.
ten minutes. hang in there.
YOU ARE READING
CIGARETTES AND TULIPS // jikook
Fanfictionjimin worked in a small flower shop in busan. one day, a mysterious boy named jungkook stepped into the store and their tragic lives would forever be intertwined. what had been once burried will be dug up. and love never dies a natural death. CIGAR...
