daybreak | yoonmin

march 8th.

4:03 a.m.

Jimin has been staring at the back of his eyelids for hours. Every time he floats adrift, he sees Yoongi's smile falling like a star out of the sky. And sullen eyes. He closes his eyes. He sees Yoongi. He closes his eyes. He can't sleep.

On his nightstand beside him, his phone reflects the moonlight. It lights up. Blue light upon blue light.

Blue.

민민 사랑
2 iMessage notifications

Hey

Tomorrow morning, same time?

He stared at it.

yeah

of course

delivered.

When he turns off his phone not a cry, but a desire to cry, catches in his throat. Somehow, the want without the cry means more than the very act of.

Yoongi has been looking at the ceiling so long that it looks like a sea and the fan looks like a whirlpool. He wishes it would pull him in already. Jimin pulled him in already.

Fuck.

He dropped a pillow over his face and thought about suffocating himself with it. It hurt worse than anything he'd felt in years. What was his boyfriend like? Don't picture yourself as his boyfriend. Don't remember the time last fall before he knew your name when he sat in the seat next to you and made your heart stop. He probably doesn't remember that.

Oh, universe. It gets old, how you dangle love in front of my face, you know.

If I could have this one thing, I'd ask for nothing else. Except maybe for a sale on Crocs. Or another Die Lit from Carti, if he could ever top it.

Oh, universe. Please make it stop hurting long enough for me to fall asleep tonight.

I have work in a few hours and a boy to pretend I'm not falling for.

Oh, universe. In the coming days, let me let go.

My heart is tired.

I have a whirpool to walk to Trescott Avenue early tomorrow morning.