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kim taehyung, park jimin.
that is simply how it had always played out. ever since the kims moved in next door eleven years ago, when jimin was seven and taehyung six, the boys found that they liked each other quite a bit. of course, it had taken a fair amount of coaxing from both mothers to get their sons to utter hesitant hellos, but once that had been done, they wove themselves together like fine thread, a bond seldom broken.
ten years ago, jimin invited taehyung to his secret haven; a shoddy treehouse obscured by lush greenery. it wasn't too far away from either house, a ten minute walk at most, and jimin had led taehyung by the hand. "you'll love it, i promise you."
taehyung hadn't, not really. it was ridiculously underwhelming, that treehouse, a few gaudy planks thrown haphazardly together. but he smiled nonetheless, because jimin had taken the time to lead him here, this place that was wholly his, and he felt warm, like heavy arms had enveloped that spot just below his chest.
every wednesday, as soon as the ting of the school bell could be heard, taehyung would feel little fingers—as soft as wool—graze his forearm. they would run, as quickly as their bumbling, awkward legs would carry them, homework and various magazines clutched in their chubby hands. not that they would get much done. the second their sneakers pattered across the rickety wood, all responsibilities would be forgotten. instead of hurrying through the few problems he'd been assigned, taehyung found the curved line of jimin's brazen smile far more enticing.
eight years ago, the boys were ready to begin middle school. while jimin grinned with pride, his cheeks stretched wide and his eyes nearly glued shut with glee, taehyung's full lips were pulled into a foul pout. while he put on a brave face for jimin, he was undoubtedly afraid—straight down to his quivering core—that jimin would go on and make new friends, interpreting this new start in the most literal way. in simpler terms: taehyung did not want jimin to leave him behind.
"jimin hyung . . . " he whispered. barely ten, taehyung wasn't the most eloquent or strong headed child—the complete opposite of willful jimin; perhaps that is why they got along so well—but there were rare, clear moments where he knew exactly what he wanted. " . . . please, don't leave me."
jimin held taehyung's frail body, as close and as tightly as he could, as if to say i've got you. that same tender feeling overtook taehyung's senses as he softened beneath jimin. he was so warm.
five years ago, jimin slid into his usual seat beside taehyung in the bustling cafeteria. the sound of laughter and shouts of, "hey, over here!" punctuated the buzz in the atmosphere. he had come with pork dumplings, complete with soy sauce and garnish, undoubtedly taehyung's favourite.
