Bridge to Paradise // pjm + myg

;; PARADISE

I'm deeply addicted
to the prison that is you

00 ;; PJM

     The air right outside the health and science building, although ironically toxic, drifts comfortingly against the apples of Jimin's cheeks, providing him with a fleeting glimpse of the terrifyingly captivating outside world. He can practically taste the pollution on his tongue, but the other scents of sweet roses and a passing stranger's lingering traces of cedar cologne drown the poison out until he's merely left with the desire to breathe deeply, again and again. The wind lifts a few wisps of his blonde hair off his forehead, its fingers curling around the strands until his forehead is exposed, sending a chill down Jimin's spine. But he doesn't care. I need to savor this moment.

     It would only be a few more minutes, if that, he muses, before Koosung would call him to make sure he was already walking home. "I just care about you," he would stress over the line, the phrase repeated so much into his ears that Jimin feels it's lost its meaning. "We want you to be safe, that's all." Well, hyung, you and I have very contrasting definitions of that word, Jimin hums to himself. He plops himself in a metal chair under the cover of the roof, still inhaling the fresh air as people rush carelessly past him. Feeling content, at peace in a world where chaos is a norm nobody bats an eye at, is my safe place.

    After all, once he starts trekking home, he signs away his happiness to people who don't trust him even with plastic kids scissors. He prefers smiling to the stoic face he puts on when he crosses the doorway, but there's nothing he can do about it. Nothing he has the courage to.

     As if on cue in a movie directed by a puppeteer, Jimin's phone blasts Lil Touch, and he almost groans out loud at the sound of his freedom slipping between his fingers. It dangles in front of him, like a needle on a thread, but he knows if he were to grab it at even the slightest wrong angle, he would end up in the hospital again.

     "The price for freedom should always come with a first aid kit," Jimin huffs into his phone without even bothering to check the caller ID. He could feel his relaxing afternoon dwindling down to nothing, as if it wasn't even there to begin with.

     "And also a warranty," the voice cheerfully supplied through the receiver, the accompanying loud laughter definitely not belonging to Koosung. "Sometimes I just want to return it, you know? Go back to being a kid."

     "Ah, Yugyeom," Jimin giggles, listening with a big grin on his face as Yugyeom continues to laugh, his chuckles raising in pitch and volume as he runs out of breath. He can even hear his shoes stomping against the floor he's sitting on as his whole body must be shaking with laughter. "You weren't that funny, stop it!"

     "Come on Chim, you and I both know you're struggling to keep a straight face."

    Jimin cursed himself silently, shaking his head in awe of his best friend knowing him like Koosung knew his Starbucks order. "Fine, you got me there."

     "Are you enjoying being outside?" Yugyeom asks, his words carefully laced with worry. "I'm in the library studying for that fucking statistics exam, and Koosung suddenly looked up at the clock and bolted. Has he shown up yet?"

     "No," Jimin sighs, his heart leaping madly in his chest when someone darts right by his table, smacking into his shoulder as he runs past. He feels his body fold in on itself more with each gradual passing second. "But I'm guessing that means he's coming."

     "I'm sorry, Chimmy," Yugyeom says softly in Jimin's ear, and he can sense how upset Yugyeom feels even though he's all the way in north campus.