"But it's just a paper cut?"
A story in which jimin has two secrets, will yoongi convice jimin to let him in?
I Update kinda randomly (my bad)
short-ish chapters 500 words min
CONTAINS
-mostly fluff
-minor angst
-some mentions of self hate
-lots of...
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~NO ONES POV~
"Jimin-ah? You in there?" A tall man was standing outside the practice room.
"Come in, but I'm busy Namjoon Hyung!" A strained voice called out.
"Jimin, you've been practicing for hours. Have you even eaten anything today?" Namjoon hadn't seen Jimin that morning when Seokjin made breakfast. Even Yoongi had shown up, despite getting home in the early hours of the morning. When Yoongi got back to the dorms he didn't say anything, just went right to his room. Taehyung told Seokjin and Namjoon that he would talk to the rapper later cause he couldn't squeeze any information out of him. The tall male figured that Jimin didn't show up that morning because he was avoiding Yoongi. Even though it was blatantly obvious to everyone that Jimin missed the elder deeply, there was something holding him back. And there was no way Namjoon was going to take 'no' for an answer. He was ending this, here and now. Time to put his foot down.
The music in the room had abruptly paused.
"Namjoon Hyung, please I need to work on the breakdown." Jimin pleaded while walking back to his place already setting up for when the music plays.
"Jimin what's wrong, I want to help. We all do." Namjoon's stiff features softened, he knew he couldn't beat the information out of the kid. He was going to have to play nice.
"Hyung nothing's wrong I'm just shaken from the injury and we have a comeback soon-"
"Jimin cut the bullshit." He deadpanned.
"What?" Shit. He sees right through me. Jiminwas screwed and he knew it. Should he keep fighting Namjoon? No, his friend was done playing around. Should he just confess? The orange haired male turned to face his friend. Namjoon had already pulled over two rickety and rusty old chairs for the boys to sit.
"Please just tell me what's wrong. I know you're overworked, stressed, tired and hungry, but we're worried about you Jimin. We just want you to be happy. To be okay." The leader looked to his friend, checking for body language, a change in facial expression, a look in his eyes... something, anything.
And at that moment, when the room had fallen silent, when the cars outside had seemed to quiet down, when the commotion down the hall had fizzled out, the young boy broke. A steady stream of tears flowed from the boys eyes, his breathing was unsteady, shoulders shaking, heart racing, gut wrenching, chest heaving. He wasn't okay.
And when the rain stopped pouring from the clouds that were his eyes... he spoke.
"Hyung," he steadied his breathing, "I don't know what to do." His head stayed pointed at the ground.
"You know exactly what you have to do Jimin-ah. You just don't want to. You know I'm not trying to be insensitive or callous, but if you want help... for us to help," Namjoon guided the boy's head up so he could look at him eye to eye, "You have to tell us what's wrong, you have to tell Yoongi Hyung what's wrong."
And with that, with those simple yet intricate words of wisdom, he left.
