Dark Skies

Breath of fresh air

The familiar sent of home washed over me as I walked through the doors of my apartment. All I needed now was a hot shower to clear my head before I got into bed to try and forget everything that had happened today. I just wanted to be taken away from reality. I wanted to close my eyes and wake up in some kind of alternate universe where everything was simple.

As I opened the door my breath caught in my throat and I took a step back, not expecting company at this time of night.

Jimin was standing at my window looking out, his body slumped over and his hand in his hair. He had changed out of what he was wearing earlier, into a much more comfy looking pair of jogging bottoms and a white shirt. The shirt hung loosly over his shoulder, revealing his collar bone and his orange hair stood out against the dark of the sky he was looking out into.  He sighed,

"I never realised how pretty this view was at night" he spoke. He sounded lost and shaky, like he was trying not to cry. My stomach tightened into a knot.

"Jimin, what are you doing here?" I managed to say as I shut the door gently behind me.

He ignored my question, as if I had said it in my head and not out loud,

"I never really get a chance to stop and really take things in. It's always one thing after the other. Sometimes I feel like I need to find time to take a breath. I feel like there's so many things going on and I just can't catch up. No matter how hard I try, no matter how many hours of sleep I lose to practise, no matter how many questions I answer, how many albums I sign, how many fans I meet, how many concerts I perform, I just can't catch up. It's like an endless road on a journey to nowhere. And I needed at least someone to depend on to take me away from all of...this. I thought that person was you. I thought you could be my breath of fresh air." 

I looked up at him, tears welling up in my eyes. I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and began to walk towards him. Slowly, I lifted up my hand and rested it on his shoulder. He felt hot,  and I could see beads of sweat on the back of his neck, but I could feel him shaking,

"Jimin, I-" he turned around and pushed my hand away. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and his hands were balled into fists at his side, his knuckles turning a shade of white.

"If this" his voice broke, "is the breath of fresh air I'm going to be getting, I'd rather breath in poison."

And within a blink of an eye he was gone, slamming the door behind him as he went.