flowers and ink » yoonmin

six.

Jimin and Yoongi fell into a rhythm as the week dragged by. They'd start the day civil enough, maybe even trading jokes if they were in a good mood. Then Yoongi's behavior and constant insults would grate on Jimin's nerves, even though they held hardly any bite. They'd bicker at each other the way a divorced couple would, and at the end of the day, Jimin was always exhausted. He glanced in the mirror at the dark circles under his eyes and considered, not for the first time, firing Yoongi. Today was Saturday, which meant that tomorrow he'd be free of Yoongi; the store was closed on Sundays. He didn't know why he still put up with the tattooed boy; maybe he was still holding out hope that he'd change. Probably not. Jimin wasn't exactly encouraging him to change, either; every time he found himself laughing, he'd shut down. He couldn't trust Yoongi, and most of all, he couldn't allow himself to get hurt. Again. He sighed, looked at the clock, and went downstairs to open the flower shop. While he waited for Yoongi to appear, he took down the Now Hiring sign and ripped it in half, throwing the pieces away. Yoongi usually came in unannounced, and nothing was different today. He threw his bag in the back room, and Jimin absently hoped that he'd brought his own lunch; the man ate enough food for a small family. Jimin's shoulders tensed at the familiarity of the thought. When had he gotten close enough to Yoongi to make light of his eating habits? How had he allowed this to happen?

"Cheer up, Princess. While tomorrow is gonna be difficult without me, you'll live," Yoongi said, making Jimin jump. He hadn't realized the other boy had come out of the back room, and was idly playing with the cash register's buttons.

"More like, I'll finally be able to live tomorrow," Jimin replied coolly. Yoongi faked hurt and Jimin rolled his eyes.

"We have a delivery coming today, and it should be here soon. You can man the checkout while I take care of it."

"But I don't know how to use the cash register!" Yoongi exclaimed, panic in his voice. Jimin sighed and explained the basics of how to use the thing. At Yoongi's blank expression, Jimin huffed again and took out some money and placed it in a drawer under the register.

"Now you don't have to use it, and can make change if you have to," Jimin smiled tightly, as if explaining math to a small child. He heard the ancient phone in the break room ring and said, "That'll be the deliveries." He answered the phone, assuring the assistant on the other line that he was ready for the delivery. It was scheduled to arrive in ten minutes; he only needed to replace his lowering stock of flowers, nothing unusual or special. Jimin popped back out of the break room, announcing "Ten minutes" to Yoongi, then hastily left. He didn't want to hear Yoongi speak. He wandered to the front of the store, contemplating how quickly Yoongi had made everything change. For one, the store was so much cleaner. It was also louder, and no longer a place of assured safety. He really should fire Yoongi, he mused. It would make his life easier. But he always enjoyed a challenge, and besides, he'd probably die of boredom faster than anything Yoongi could do to him. He emerged from the aisles and picked up the watering can. It was sporting another crack from when he had kicked on it The First Day, as he had started calling it. He'd considered calling it The Apocalypse but decided that was too melodramatic. He clutched the can in his small hands and went back through the store, retracing years' worth of footsteps. He was surprised there wasn't a track worn into the cement floor. He had been doing the same thing, every morning, ever since he had opened the flower shop, and all of a sudden, the monotony bore down on him with all the weight of a moving train. It seemed to knock his knees out from under him, and he sat down, hard. He came face-to-face with a jumble of morning glories, and they reminded him of Yoongi's hair. Everything seemed to remind him of Yoongi; he had been jumpy for days on end, doing his best to keep his walls up. He was strong now; he wouldn't let anyone hurt him. He was done with it all; the fear, the pain, the useless emotions. He picked himself up and continued walking. He felt like nothing more than a shell of a person. The second Jimin saw Yoongi, he was startled by his lack of reaction. The boy looked at him, mouth open as if to say something, but Jimin brushed past him and entered the break room. He didn't see the look of confusion and hurt that crossed Yoongi's face, already seeking refuge in the small space. He hummed as he filled the watering can in the sink. He watched with detached fascination as he hands began to shake as the can became heavier, much like the way a person's muscles would shake if the world was placed upon their shoulders. He wanted to laugh at himself for comparing something so simple to something so drastic. He wasn't important enough.

"You sound like a cat playing the bagpipes," Yoongi said. Jimin jumped and refrained from cursing as water spilled on his apron and the floor.

"Thank you, it's a talent many don't appreciate," Jimin replied tonelessly, grabbing a bunch of paper towels from under the sink and cleaning up the puddle glittering on the floor. The only thought going through his head was thank God it's not carpet. Then Yoongi made an indignant noise behind him, like the sound a child would make when they realized no one was paying attention to their temper tantrum.

"What's wrong with you?" Yoongi asked. Jimin stared at the floor as he scrubbed it with his damp paper towel, thankful to be facing away from the other boy.

"You."

"Okay, now that's unfair. I'm the one who's supposed to make the snide remarks!"

Jimin's breath caught angrily, and he stood up, whirling around. The paper towel fluttered from his hand.

"Is this a game to you?" He demanded, blood boiling. Everyone treated him as if his emotions were theirs to play with, and his fists clenched. He was so sick of it; he hated Yoongi, he hated everyone who had ever hurt him. He never stood up for himself. He was an adult now; that would change.

"Is what a game?" Yoongi asked, bewildered.

"Insulting me? Tell me, daddy," Jimin spit the word, hate burning through the syllables. Yoongi flinched. "how far do you intend to go? Do you want to see how broken I can become, like all the others? Do you?" He was yelling now, his tone angry but stature cringing away, as if afraid of himself. Am I becoming my father? He thought wildly. He blanched as it crossed his mind.

"Wait, what do you mean, 'all the others?'" Yoongi asked, tone soft, as if he was talking to a frightened animal. Jimin tangled his fingers in the strings of his apron to hide his shaking fingers.

"I've been bullied, Yoongi, and while it makes reminiscing with the yearbooks an enjoyable experience, I wouldn't recommend it." Jimin's tone was bitter and empty, years of repressed emotions echoing through it; nowhere to go. Yoongi looked stricken, and Jimin hated him for it. He had to play the victim card to make Yoongi feel sorry for him.

"Y-you've been bullied?" Yoongi asked, hesitant. Jimin snorted. Now Yoongi treats him gently. 

"Don't act so surprised," Jimin said scathingly. Yoongi looked wounded, and he had no right to be; it was Jimin who should be feeling that way.

"But I don't understand..."

"You don't understand?" Jimin echoed incredulously. "You, who has done nothing but insult me the whole time you've been here?"

"That's different-"

"How is it different? You're still treating me like a target, and last time I checked, you weren't the one who decided what was bullying and what wasn't."

"But you aren't either, Jimin," Yoongi said, incredibly softly.

"Excuse me? I have been bullied enough in my lifetime, I should be able to recognize-"

"Or it's made you blind, reacting to every little snide remark as if someone had physically beat you," Yoongi said calmly. The statement brought Jimin up short.

"I-I..." Was Yoongi right? "I don't even know what to think anymore, Yoongi."

"Can I help you?"

"No."

The bell above the door tinkled and they both flinched. Jimin wiped at his eyes and threw on a bright smile. "That'll be deliveries!"

Yoongi gaped at him. "H-how?"

"I've learned a few tricks over the years," Jimin replied, then pushed past him, inked skin brushing against unblemished, to collect the delivery.

boy howdy what a rollercoaster. okay but guys i had an idea for a namjin fic but it's gonna be 90% angst and 10% fluff ok i'm excited. i even started making a playlist for the fic and i cried #oops