Reasons » yoonmin

Chapter 2

"When are we going?" Jimin asked, half yelling across the apartment, avoiding having to walk to the other's room. He was quite sure they were going soon; but how soon? That's what he had been pondering and after more thinking of if asking would be annoying, he decided asking wouldn't be very annoying.

At least he hoped so. He only wanted Yoongi to be happy and not upset over the other's actions.

But he wasn't sure where the clear line for that was, and that made him anxious. He hated how blurry lines were with people.

"Later?" Yoongi replied surprisingly fast, his voice sounding like he had headed back to his own room to lay around.

"When's later?" Jimin asked immediately, almost feeling annoyance building up in him. He was aware he couldn't get mad at the other, but it was no use.

Sighing silently mainly to himself and his usually-way-too-mainstream answers when it came to Jimin, Yoongi thought for a bit. Maybe in the evening? No, it would be too late.

In a few hours? 4 pm, he decided.

"4 pm?" Yoongi said, not having another thought of it. He never heard a reply so he dropped the topic and kept scrolling through social media on his phone, soon quickly forgetting about the silence.

"4 pm?!" Jimin asked himself quietly. 4 pm. Four pm. That's not soon! That's after so many hours.

So so so many hours. Oh God. Oh God. What would he do to spend those hours, doing nothing but anticipating their walk, which would of course not be worth the wait? It would of close be a short walk, a silent walk. A nonchalant walk. Suddenly he didn't want to go anymore. He would have to wait for too long. Too long.

He didn't even realise how long he had been standing there and how his roommate had appeared in the doorway, creating a look between blank and worried yet confused at the quiet one, who was looking ever so shocked and just standing in the hallway knitting his eyebrows together and almost looking mad by the look of his eyes. The look reminded him of the word smad, he decided - a creative mix between sad and mad.

"What's up?" Yoongi muttered, careful to not to spook the other away. The blank look partly disappeared immediately when Jimin's brain registered Yoongi's appearance on the hallway, his eyes peering straight at him. At first there was only silence. It felt like Jimin's words were stuck in his throat and although he tried, he couldn't cry out, he couldn't say a thing. Like a suffocating silence. "You alright?" Yoongi asked, quickly realising his friend looked like there was more to him than just your casual lag-out.

Jimin coughed and shook his head as in trying to say no, that he's doing fine and there's no problem at all. Yoongi didn't get the message. He didn't really know how to react, he didn't know what to say. "Jimin? Stop playing, really-" he mumbled, yet not meaning any of the words he'd just said. He made his way to the other quickly and didn't know how to act. He awkwardly placed his hand on the other's shoulder and tried to look him into the eyes which were avoiding his. Jimin coughed. Yoongi jumped slightly. "I-it's nothing, it's nothing, let me go," he pleaded, shrugging the other's hand off his shoulder and turned around and headed straight into his room, quietly closing it after himself and not more sound was heard. Not a cough, not a step, not anything.

Yoongi stood there for a moment, before straightening his back and making his way to the living room, telling himself nothing had happened. He dropped himself on the couch and listened to the silence which was suddenly overpowering. He grew worried, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to be a bother to his roommate because he had been one enough already - kicking the other at night after heavily drinking and never remembering to buy the other's favourite chocolate bar even if he'd been asked to bring it from the store. And he didn't even apologise.

He never apologised. Should be the time for it, then. Goddamnit.

The familiar scent of the candles invaded his senses. Picked by Jimin. He looked at the coffee table in front of him which had a bowl of speckless fruit on it. Organised by Jimin. He looked at the hallway. The closed door was Jimin's.

Jimin wasn't having any of this. Oh hell no. He wasn't going to struggle through another episode of this. Of this pressure on his chest. Of the quick breathing. Of dizzyness. But there he was. Sitting on his nearly flawlessly made bed, gripping his beautifully evenly dyed brown hair. Eyeing the green-blue candle opposite to him, placed on a shelf. Reminded him of that colourful hair Yoongi had had. It had been beautiful. Oh fuck, why did he have to dye it black? Why did he have to be such a beautiful person? Why was he such an idiot? Such a jerk? Why was Jimin suddenly cursing living together with the wanderer? He loved it. He hated it. Nothing made sense. He felt a tear touch his cheek and he didn't care.

He was too busy trying to find a thread to follow in his head.

There were too many. There were triangles. There were boxes. Circles. Threads. They were red. And yellow. And green. and blue. And green-blue. Oh god. the colour was so beautiful. They were all in one mass. If he closed his eyes he'd only see them. And he couldn't catch a single shape to follow. Why were they so busy? Why were they running away?

Was Jimin running away?

Could Yoongi hear him? Oh, please, no. Idiot. What had he done to deserve Jimin by his side? Jimin bit his teeth together, taking a deep breath. He felt another tear fall. He wanted to hit the other one. To hit him. Hard. Kick? Punch. All of them. Throw the fucking green-blue candle at him. You idiot. You come home drunk. You kick me. You hit me.

Suddenly his mind went blank. It became quiet. He could hear his breathing again. He could hear his singular thoughts again. He stared at that goddamn candle. He didn't feel like smashing it anymore. He didn't feel like hitting Yoongi anymore. He didn't feel anger anymore.

Anger. Now he felt guilty. He had felt such intense anger. He was never angry. How could it even be possible, when now he was perfectly fine? So calm? It was scary. He took a deep breath in and wiped the couple anonymous tears to the sleeve of his washed out red button-up shirt.

He felt like there were words that needed to be said.