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

27

⚠️Contains mentions about suicide. Read at your own risk. If you don't feel comfortable being confronted with these topics, SKIP this chapter. ⚠️
---
1 week later

With trembling hands their short, jerky movements made you think of a reaction to spread electricity, I approached the handle that was already obsolete through the years.
The rest of my prudence that was from beginning on almost completely cancelled, fought against my plan lead by spontaneity with the obstinacy of a little child.
But the desire of indulging in his words again, had won the last days again the prudence marked of pain in a apparently inevitable fight.
Because not even the death made the feeling of true love connecting both souls to each other fade.
And still it was the presence of his undeniable, already sealed destiny that separated the ground we were on into two worlds drifting apart. And no one of us two would every be able to drag the other one into the custody, only consisting of togetherness, of his own world.
But my pain gaining strength due to the physical distance was the one making the target of prudence break after a long time.
Even my body wasn't able to resist my heart's sadness.
Instead it was my suffering created by truth and love that brought my strength's physical reserves to their knees and made them come down to earth.
The earth its truth I have trempled around the whole time, without putting away the causing blindness on my eyes.
But Jungkook was the one unknowingly making hem see again through his honesty. Firmness was flowing now over my hand like a slight wind and made the bitterly and untiringly trembling fingers freeze in their movement, before they clutched the handle's old metal firmlier and pushed it down just like the last leftovers of prudence.
But the room I entered now after so many times again wasn't the same at all.
Not only my new gotten view on the things in my mind hand changed the picture fixed in my head.
Rather it was the white walls that couldn't praise themselves with the clearness of this color anymore.
Because nothing else than a for me known font was decorating the walls loveless emptiness.

The wind brushing his face like a shroud gives him the wings he needs to leave everything behind him.
The pain in his lungs and his legs gives him the incentive of accelerating his footsteps, to get rid of the bonds faster.
The bonds that had been captivating him since his birth and have left deeper wounds in his heart by every passing day.
He's breaking away, aware of what he will cause by it.
But he doesn't care anymore, all he sees is his desire for freedom, a longing for rest.
For the last time he lets all the suffering, the humiliation and desperation of the last years pass.
Lets all the memories wake up for the last time.
The longstanding ostracism, wherever he was, the incomprehension and the people's insensibility, he desperately tried to find.
The using of his body, his soul.
For the last time he lets the wounds and scars, that had established on his body and soul for the last years, open again, felt the pain as if it was the first time.
You think he would twist and crock due to the pain.
But none of this influences his body.
No.
He's smiling, putting his head back and is approaching the freedom he dared to search after the whole time.
Because all the suffering is suddenly not important anymore, he doesn't care about it anymore.

Suddenly he's starting to laugh.
He's laughing heartily, so truly and brightly, for the first time in seventeen years.
He's laughing over the world, over the people.
Is he crazy?
Insane?
That might be, but not even he is able to fight against the insanity of this world.
But he hasn't been any closer to freedom before, maybe his insanity is only a further, undiscovered veneer of an euphoria the most people won't ever experience.
He stops, fills his lungs with oxygen and his heart with happiness. He hadn't looked for it and still found it, hadn't believed in it and still tried it.
He goes one step further, and again one.
He's standing at the edge, able to feel how his heartbeat goes faster from second to second.
But he knew it was the right.
For the first time in his life he knew it, it was right.
Nothing matters
except the feeling of freedom.
All the pain doesn't matter, when he dares it, he knows that.
For the last time he's spreading his arms, breathing the bittersweet smell of farewell.
The melody of freedom in his heart is whispered the meaningful word, before he lets himself fall.

"Nevermind."

Getting the words'meaning I just wanted to make sure of this hopefully being another fantasy of my mind, when I felt how his existence had manifested behind my back tendered by forced sangfroid.

"Jimin." A word, that was pronounced by his voice with such an abandon, as if it included a complete novel.

Solely by hearing his voice the desire, that had owned me with every written word more, got lured out of my lips.

"Take me with you."

~~~~~~~~
Nevermind
~~~~~~~~