❝Bathroom Talks❞ m.yg x p.jm [eng trans]

20

Like a little child's excitement mine beated like the pulse of my heart drowned in all kinds of emotions, its speed rose drastically, so I was afraid it could break out and come into the world, which was momentarily painted slightly pink for me.
And although the excitement made me go through all possible phases of decifient air, I had the feeling, after the unfounded panic of not being able to see him again, of being able to breathe and let the air go through my lungs like a healing balm, more like the hope, disguised as air, of drowning into the even more unkind, still fantastic seeming illusion of his words honored by his existence equaling to an artwork and by the liveless shell that called itself 'my life'.
Also I could feel how the hope of clearing away our still existing distance inivsible for the human eye despite our undeniable closeness with my negotiable, but limited power, digged smoothly into my heart like a tree's roots.
The song without any beginning or ending played by the rain's indefatigability seemed to catch me as if it was aware of my ears being opened for its unvisited concert and didn't consider itself too good for letting its wonderful sounds play for a single person's good.
First when I got ripped out from the rain's game by the undenieablly most beautiful voice existing, it seemed to mute currently and made place for the actual concert consisting of his voice.
"So you have seen it."
A simple phrase, emotions were unnecessary and possibly not even findable for someone else. 
But the slight wave of pure joy, that probably even rocked the foundations of his heart made of stone in aim to reach mine, I couldn't deny and didn't want to. For some seconds lasting as long as minutes I stood there motionlessly and enjoyed this moment's artwork that solely included his presence perceptible without a need to take a look, before I slowly turned around, suppressing the overwhelming feeling caused by his pure existence, and looked into the eyes, that were already telling novels after a short glimpse, of the boy, who seemed like a mystery, probably because of his words letting space for interpretation.
Only for feeling again, that the bare presence of this weird and for me still incredibly valuable human functioned like a magnet on my mouth corners and seemed to pull those up apparently automatically without me doing anything.
My smile seemed to be enough replying to him because he merely nodded, keeping up the motionlessness of his facial expression that brought along a certain majestic charm despite the obviously spreading coldness.
But when I desperately, and for the first time fighting against a weird silence, looked for words to dissipate this silence out of the dreamworld that surrounded Suga and me, I seemed to be the only one looking for a pursuit.
Because Suga seemed to spend his time with letting his steely glimpse, that didn't miss any negative emotion, go through every filament of my body.
Suddenly I felt, watched by the artwort the perfection was living in, like I was at every of my flaw's mercy and couldn't do anything but look down.
My voice demanded for a confrontation but seemed to have gotten lost in my own's uncertainty's depths at the same time, lost in a labyrinth its exit I wouldn't ever find in Suga's presence.
But now it was again him rising to speak with the most beautiful instrument existing on the earth.
"I should've collected them."
The unmissable marvel created by his words was even too much for my mind and I solely looked at him confusedly, what he seemed to interpret the right way.
"Your tears.
I should've collected them recently, instead of letting my egoism control myself", he said with a whiff of guilt feelings in his voice, that probably only I could hear.
It took me some seconds to remember of the mentioned day. But instead of accepting his subtile apologize like a gift I rejected it doubting the necessity of him having guilt feelings, what I sealed with a renewed smile and a slightly shaking of my head.
"Your mere presence is the net able to collect my tears", I answered and felt my cheeks blushing when I visualized my just spoken words again.
Suga, however, didn't mind it minimally, because he merely leaned next to me against the windowsill and pierced through all layers of my soul with only one glimpse.
"I'm interested in what kind of person would be able to destroy a so firmly fixed smile like yours", he said finally after some seconds of silence.
"Only one person I had called 'best friend' once", I answered, fighting against the oppressive sadness about what had happened. "Name?", he continued asking.
"Jungkook", I replied like a shot, powered by the subtly harsh and slightly angry tone in his voice. An open eye wasn't necessary to notice the tenderness spreading in his whole body like poison, especially because the stare on the ground and the clenching of his previously soft seeming fist were the first signs of emotions I could see even without my sense for attention and highest sensibility for him.
The tacit question laying on my curious but also worried tongue seemed finally, after moments of silence, to be come to him when he lifted his eyes again and I fell directly into the endless depth of the sadness I found in them. But his suddenly again fragile seeming voice cut the silence with its words that kept echoing in my ears for a long time left.

"Once he had been my best friend as well."

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