Sticks and Stones • Park Jimin

xxxvii.

Jin had been quiet the whole time. All of them had. Because they were uncertain. Because they were confused.

Because they were scared.

But they had all listened to Tae, to Yoongi, to Jimin when he'd chosen to speak.

And Jungkook.

Jin had watched the maknae try to understand what was happening. But now it was his turn. He went over to Jimin and crouched down next to him.

He'd had all these words in his mind.

You're going to be okay.

Just take it one day at a time.

We're here for you.

But Jungkook had been right. They were cliches, someone else's words. They weren't Jin's. They felt fake to him.

Like lies.

So instead he just gently ran his fingers through Jimin's hair and smiled at him. "When I said the pretty people don't eat on the roof, I wasn't talking about you, Jimin, okay?" Suddenly, Jin felt incredibly guilty. "I didn't mean to..." He swallowed. "I wasn't trying to..."

"Okay," Jimin said softly. Not 'I know,' because Jimin still didn't quite know what to believe and what not to believe.

Jin swallowed and nodded, his hair flopping onto his forehead before he fixed it. He started to say "Don't cry," but then he remembered how he'd first met Jimin. He'd been crying by himself in the hallway, and Jimin had stopped to help him.

Had he ever helped Jimin?

Had he even noticed Jimin's tears, the ones on the inside?

Jin's hand dropped limply to his side.

"Move out of the way, it's my turn," J-Hope said, pushing Jin aside before he could finish his angsty moment of contemplation.