(Jimin POV)
___
I found him wedged between the world.
Sitting upon the school's staircase, on the drafty landing that held a paint-chipping door -- scratches of previous names and profanity imprinted -- holding his hand, gripping it and un-gripping it, molding it into a fist and rocking back and forth.
Like a pendulum, his down-casted head caught the dim light, and his hand shook as he gripped it tighter.
I walked up the steps, not taking my eyes off of him as I sat down beside him. When neither the library nor the cafeteria held his presence, I found him here; shivering with his head between his knees.
I snaked an arm around him and his body limped into my side.
And I held him, my chin resting softly but reassuringly on top of his head.
He didn't need to say what he was feeling -- I knew.
He didn't need to describe what he was experiencing -- I knew.
It was funny how last night I was arguing for the opposite.
___
We sat across from each other on the stairs' landing, knees pulled up to our chests. He never spoke, and I had to remind myself that he couldn't.
"You never eat."
He blinked at me, then turned his head to the side. A ray of sunlight trailed in from the window above his head, the brightness only lasting for a few seconds before disappearing into the lunch's hour.
I opened up my backpack, cheeks reddening even though I'd practiced these lines many times last night. Hand crumpling around two brown paper bags, I placed one in front of me and the other in front of him.
I held up my hands, "you don't have to eat. I'm not forcing you. I just..thought you might want to try something new." I focused on his cheekbones, seeming more hollow than usual.
"I made it myself."
He stared at the brown bag and my arms itched to wrap them around him again like they did before. His hair of silk had smelled like the sea and flowers combined together, losing me at my ability to describe them any further, forcing me to just feel.
Without any other glance, he grabbed the bag and stood up. Without any other gaze, he handed it back to me.
Without any other silence, he walked down the steps, an echo of his farewell steps turning into a song I didn't need any lyrics for.
It took a few minutes for me to regain my self, but as I stared at the door beside me, the one with initials of students that had once been here and dates that seemed like any other days to me, my body awoke and my feet filled with a rush of adrenaline.
Rushing down the stairs at twos at a time, not caring my shoelaces were undone, I prayed I was going through the same hallways he had minutes ago.
I stood at a halt when a familiar group of faces blocked my way up ahead. Yet as I neared, I realized they were not just blocking my way, but his as well.
Yoongi and the rest of my group mates encircled around him, and I had a sudden impulse to shield him from whatever was happening.
Yoongi said something and the rest of the group laughed in loud shards of carelessness, nearby students stopping to see what was so funny that a bunch of self-centered seniors were amused at.
