You were happy

Pt10

"I told him...I told him that I loved him." You started, leaning closer into him.
You stared at Jimin in complete shock, unable to move even your pinkie. You could feel your lips parted slightly, frozen with the new information. Your eyes searched his face, trying to spot the lie–the joke in his words. You couldn't find any; you thought you used to know the man in front of you better than you knew yourself.
Who were you kidding?
"What did you say?" You finally said, leaning in to hear better. It had to be a mistake, a slip of the tongue that you'd heard wrong.
"I love you, Y/N." There it was again, the confession you'd been waiting years for–the confession you'd stayed up late at night imagining and praying for.
The confession that had now come only because you'd ran, only because you'd been kidnapped.
You looked at your hands, at the ceiling–at anything that wasn't Jimin. It was easier to stare at those things; they didn't pierce your soul and force words from your mouth. "You're lying...Hana...you're lying."
He was adamant on getting you to accept his words, not even faltering at your obvious discomfort and confusion. "I broke up with Hana the second I heard they found you–we were having troubles ever since you left. That's when I finally figured it out."
"You said..." You looked up at him, feeling your eyes water with the memory of that day. Your shaking hands covered your ears as you ducked your head into your lap. You couldn't help the shaking sobs, the PTSD that came from that night. The memory of Hanseul's hands on you while you cried to him about Jimin. The memory of Hanseul's hands on that knife as he... You let out a strangled scream into the fabric of your skirt.
Jimin rested his hand on your back, rubbing in slow, smooth circles. He didn't know how to help this, especially if he was the cause. So he just spoke to you, hoping his voice wouldn't set you off again.
"I know. I know what I said. I know how I hurt you. I keep thinking that if I had just realized it sooner–been less stupid–things would be different. We'd probably be cuddling and you'd be happy." His eyebrows furrowed on your back, the worry evident in his shaking voice. "All I ever wanted was for you to be happy–with or without me. I just couldn't decide which was better for me, so I put you through hell. I'm sorry."
"I loved you." You whispered into your thighs, your body slowly relaxing into his touch. "I loved you as if you were the only man on Earth."
He became less stiff when you responded to him, when you dropped your hands from your head; you were calming down. "I know."
"I still love you." You didn't look up from your legs, your forehead pressed against your knees. "But not as much as I thought. I can't Jimin." Your skirt tickled your trembling lip. "After all of that–after everything, I can't love you how you want me to." Your head tilted to the side, finally gracing him with your red rimmed eyes leaking tears across your face.
How had he never realized you were this beautiful before?
"I know." He whispered. "I knew it the moment I said it. Your heart has been slowly changing all this time hasn't it?" He didn't have to ask who held most of it now, he knew. He knew who had been sneaking bits and bits away until you, yourself hadn't even realized that it belonged to another person–you still didn't realize it, based on the look of confusion you gave him. He chuckled, clutching his heart through his clothing. "Is this what I put you through? I'm so sorry, Y/N–I wouldn't wish this pain on my worst enemy."
When you couldn't even flash a smile and he finally knew the extent of your emotional damage–the old you would never full return. She was lost somewhere at that party, waiting for a dance with Jungkook that she never made it to.
"I'm not giving up." He whispered. "How many years did you wait for me? How many years did you chase after my sorry ass?" He nodded to the nearest wall in determination. "Neither of us will ever be the same, but that's okay–I love you. I love all of the yous, the child with the tendency to beat up the boys, the teenager whining about food stuck in her braces, the college student curled up in a corner with a tub of ice cream after exam week, and now the girl who is so irreparably shattered girl in front of me."
"I won't love you like I did Jimin."
He flashed you a not-so-confident smile. "I said I wouldn't love you how you wanted me to once, didn't I? Now look at where I am. I'll give up in ten years...maybe, maybe longer."
You slowly started sitting up, slowly started leaking the smallest of smiles onto your face. "You won't last that long–I know you."
He leaned back onto the couch, putting his arms above his head. "Then sit back and watch–I'll make you eat those words."
He enjoyed the smile you gave him, basking in the rays of even its meager glow. "Even if I decide to love someone else?"
"Do you remember how many girlfriends I had? I think I'll manage if you did."
"I won't love you, Jimin."
But he was already refusing you, beaming at you until you reflected some of it back to him. "We'll see."
When you were finished with your side of the story you felt all of your emotions release from you, leaving you to flop against him in a boneless heap. He held you against him, holding the back of your head.
He clung to you out of pure frustration, trying to soak all of your pain into him like a sponge. He felt responsible; after all it was partly his fault for being unable to control his loud mouth–if he hadn't confessed he wouldn't have pushed you past your own limitations. Yet, even though he hated himself for that selfishness, he was even more self-centered in the relief that washed through him.
You had rejected Jimin.
"I don't know how to love right now." Your hands curled into the shoulders of his shirt, burying your eyes into it. "I'm broken and I don't think there's enough glue in the world to fix it." You had run out of tears long ago, now you were just sighing hopelessly as you clung like you always did. You relied on him too much, you used him too much to your own whims, but right now you let yourself be greedy so you could continue to hold onto him. You wanted the touch of another human being, a touch from the only person who had never hurt you. You needed that like you needed oxygen, so you sucked in deep breaths of all that was Taehyung. "I want to answer your feelings, but I need to get better first."
"That's fine, that's more than fine. All you need to know is that there are people around you that will care for you and love you." He ran his fingers through your hair, remembering that you used to love having him toy with your hair when you were upset. He paid extra attention to a spot on the back of your head, his chest rumbling with a chuckle when you practically purred.
"I want to love you Taehyung." You reclined into his touch, your fingers tightening into his shirt in pleasure. "I don't want to love Jimin, I want to love you–that counts for something right?"
"Yes, Y/N, it counts for a lot."
You weren't satisfied with his answer, you wanted more–you wanted him to know you cared. You wanted him to know that you wanted to love him, that you would snap your fingers allow yourself to love him like he wanted you to if you could; you wanted to see him happy; you didn't want to become like Jimin. "I want to Taehyung; I would make myself fall in love with you right now if it was possible."
He pulled you back, startling you into looking at him. "Look, I'm not asking for you to love me right now–or ever. I just want to see you better; it was my mistake for letting my own feelings slip out. I want to see you be able to hear someone coming through the front door without flinching, I want you to be able to look at a kitchen knife without busting into an anxiety attack, I want you to hear the sound of shoes on tile without starting to cry. I don't care who you love right now–I don't care if you love both or neither of us. I'm not asking for an answer to my feelings, all I'm asking is for you to get better. I just want you to let me help you get better."
You accepted with fresh tears, amazed you still had more to shed.
Taehyung cared for you every day. He brought food at regular intervals to stabilize you at a healthier weight, hugging you occasionally just to see if you were actually gaining more or skipping out on meals. He was careful around you, afraid that anything he did would jump you into a panic attack–especially after the day he found you in your bathroom: you'd cut yourself with your razor while shaving your legs, the sight brought you into some horrible flashback that had you screaming with your legs drawn to your chest as you scrambled away from him. He was there every day, sometimes twice a day–always at odd hours due to his own schedule.
He skipped out on work when the police called to say that they had a man named Hanseul in custody–he even matched your description. He was there to catch you when you dropped to your knees, when you let out a screaming sob that froze all other sound in the room. He was there when you started rambling each and every thing that the man had done to you. He was there to hand you tissues with his own white knuckled grip, imaging all the ways he would have liked to torture the man as you spoke.
He was there with his arm around your waist and your body pressed against his chest as you walked into the station to identify him. He stood there with you behind one-way glass, holding you as you thrashed in your attempt to get away from the sheer sight of the man. He was there to slowly lower you to the ground as the police pitied you with their gazes, pressing the mike to let the interrogator know that this was the one.
This was the man that had taken you, the man that had broken you more than Jimin ever could.
He was there when they took Hanseul's case to court. He was sitting in the rows of friends and family when you were brought in as a prime witness to the long list of accusations against him. You'd looked so frail up in the podium, your legs shaking underneath you as you stepped up to it.
"Miss L/N, what did this man do to you?" Taehyung hated that defendant; he hated how the man had drilled you into tears.
"You think I'm lying?" You'd choked through your throat. "You think I did this to myself?"
But it was Hanseul's slow crawl of a smile that had you frozen, your eyes unable to leave his as silent tears rolled down your cheeks that had the judge and the jury convinced. No one could fake that look.
It was the look you'd had on your face when you saw Taehyung for the first time, a pleading, broken nightmare behind your eyes.
He was there to hold you when the trial was over, when Hanseul was once and for sentenced guilty. He was there to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go–per your request. He was there to hold your face to his shirt so no one would see you crying, he still remembered you hated it when people saw your tears.
"Y/N, it's over. It's all over. It's going to be okay from now on. I've got you."
"Stay with me tonight, please–I really don't want to be alone."You didn't have to push the matter, he already had an overnight bag packed and ready to go–complete with a pillow for the bed he was going to make of your couch.
~..~
It was a few months after Hanseul was caught that you started feeling emotions other than fear, grief, and anxiety. The first time you felt something not colored by negativity was when Taehyung peered over his shoulder at you as you entered the boys' dorm, his stupid cute face bursting into technicolor the second he saw it was you. It drove your stomach insane with soft flutters, bubbles of joy tingling at the muscles of a scarred heart; the feeling brought color to your cheeks.
The second time happened when Taehyung's hand snapped out to hold yours in the vice that was his grip. He got so startled by one of Jungkook's horror movies that he'd reached for you without thinking, your touch calming him instantaneously. If you were there he could be strong for anything, anyone. It was like something took your heart and tried to juice it in your chest, it leaked an emotion that you were too afraid to label. It was a feeling too close to the one you had when Jimin had smiled at you–back when you weren't kept awake by nightmares.
The third time you finally started becoming aware, letting the connections build in your head until you were aware of every single move Taehyung made–every breath that passed his lips. You would sneak glances at him only to look away quickly when he caught you; it took all he had to hide his smirk.
Neither of you could escape the moment when he decided you were well enough to tackle with hugs and tickles, nearly flinging you over the back of the couch to land on the sinking cushions. He leaned over you, the hem of his shirt coming up ever so slightly in a way that had you seeing more than you should have. Your face lit up brighter than lights around Christmas, causing him to withdraw his hands to better gauge your expression.
You'd seen abs before, come on–let's be real now, it was BTS after all. Jungkook would always come in and ask if he looked like he worked out enough until you took a cube of ice to his back to get him to put his shirt down. For Christ's sake, you were best friends with Jimin for the longest time–no wonder he found you out so easily.
Taehyung had watched you give that deer in the headlights oh-god-please-don't-notice-me look before; he'd watched you look at Jimin like that too many times to count. You were always horrible at disguising what you felt; he knew your feelings already simply based on one look at your face. So, when you turned onto your side with your hands pressed up against your eyes to hide his gaze and your embarrassment he suddenly decided that he needed a tall glass of water.
He practically ran to the kitchen, his own hands trying to wipe the blush from his cheeks; he only succeeded in spreading it up to the tips of his ears.
"Tae?" You called after him. "You okay?"
He was positive his voice sounded hoarse, even after chugging a pint of water. "I-I'm fine." He pressed his hands against the sink, leaning into it with contemplation. He wondered if you'd question it if he decided to run his head under your faucet to cool down the rising heat.
He turned around to pour more water in his glass only to find you in the doorway to the kitchen, playing with your thumbnail with the utmost concentration. He practically shoved himself back into the countertop upon the sudden sight of you; he couldn't hide the redness now, and he definitely couldn't make eye contact with you.
"Tae, I-" You started, but he cut you off quickly opening the fridge to grab your water pitcher again.
"Nope, nope." He shook his head, pouring more into his glass. "I don't want to hear it."
"Tae..." He could feel your stare now, and it definitely wasn't helping his shaking hands.
"I'm not ready to hear it."
He could practically hear the smile in your voice when you spoke, the mini tantrum of your foot pounding into the ground. "Tae, listen! I'm trying to con-"
He set the glass on the table, pulling his hands up to his ears to block out all sound–very unsuccessfully might he add. "Lalalalala!!!"
You were in front of him, sneaking underneath his arms to grab his hands and pry them away from his ears. The action forced him to look at you, forced him to meet your eyes until he couldn't look away anymore. There was a smile on your face, a little laugh that he hadn't heard in ages. It sent his heart twisting sideways with the beautiful gold sliver of your past self shining through all the scars.
"Listen, Tae." Each word was a beautiful laugh, your body leaning in towards his as he weakly attempted to struggle against your hold. "Listen." Your voice dropped into a whisper, suddenly serious.
To him you looked like the cutest being in existence, your eyes shining with something other than tears for the first time. His eyebrows furrowed with that look, his lips tucked inwards. He didn't know if this was forced upon you, if it was just because he was the person who was around you the most. He didn't know if you'd come to feel something due to the absence of Jimin.
And you being you could easily read all of those worries within his one glance, and so you pull him down to you to the point that your noses touch. "I had a million chances to choose Jimin over you." He couldn't look away from you, no matter how much he wanted to–no matter how much better he thought that would be for you. "I did hang out with him, several times, and you know what?" Your lips turned up into that mischievous smile you used to wear before taking a sharpie to his face and he instantly felt giddy–even though he knew you were about to drive an emotional knife into his side. "When I saw him again–after all this time–there was nothing. It was like all those years I spent pining after him disappeared. Sure he seemed handsome, but my heart didn't.....flip? Sputter? Spaz out of my ribcage like it used to. "You clung to his hands, squeezing them tightly."I thought of you a lot those months I.....was gone....I wondered what you guys were doing, if you missed me–if you were looking for me. I thought of all the horrible things I'd done." He watched your face slowly drop from your smile and transform into that broken, glossy-eyed girl he desperately didn't want you to be when thinking of him.
He freed his hands from your grip, back to the comforting man you'd always known–always wiping at your tears, always holding you against his chest so he could press your forehead against his shoulder.
"Hey....hey hey hey." His thumbs swiped under your eyes. "You didn't do anything. You never did anything. Don't start thinking that again." He held you against him, rocking slightly to sooth you down from your delusional rambling.
You nuzzled into him, your breath hitching into his shirt. He smelled like water and sweat and you could feel the beat of his heart vibrating against your own. "I missed this–I missed you. I thought I wasn't going to see you again and that....that was so terrifying. You did so much for me and all I did was think about Jimin."
He choked back a laugh, resting his chin on the top of your head. "Yeah, well that's love for you."
"I don't even think of him anymore." You snorted into his shirt and he was suddenly positive it would need a good washing to get rid of your snot. "Well, I mean, I do think of him. But I don't wonder what he thinks when he looks at me; I don't wonder what I look like to him; I don't wonder if he wants to hold my hand, or if he wants to spend time with me, or if he wants to cuddle–kiss."
"Yeah?" He tried to focus on the beat of his heart, but that only continued to accelerate the rate at which it throbbed.
Your voice was a small squeak, muffled by the fabric you pushed towards your mouth. "When I see you I wonder those things. I wonder if you still love me."
If he looked down he was positive he would be able to see the back of your neck shining redder than the tomatoes on your counter. He pulled you back, holding you by your shoulders as your hands curled up to protect your face from his staring. You looked at him like he always wanted him to, with that look you had in the past only reserves for Jimin– a look he was finally seeing directed at him. "Are you sure?" He tried to avoid shaking you while forcing your eyes to meet his. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
Your face broke into an embarrassed form of your past smile. "It's been a year and a half since that party, Tae–I think by now I am capable of known what I want."
"But–"
You silenced him with your lips, crossing the distance between you two. It was fine for now if you started the kiss, if you initiated the touches–it wasn't against your will, you had power if it was you. Eventually you knew the trauma would stifle and disappear; eventually he would be able to hug you from behind without you flinching; eventually he would be able to kiss your cheek when you slept without you jolting awake in fear; eventually he would be able to kiss you as rough as he wanted without you seeing Hanseul's face clutching at yours. But for now, you could start the beginning of the end.
You let yourself meld against him, finding that you fit into his chest better than you had when Jimin had held you. He didn't push back for fear of you breaking out in an anxiety attack, but he didn't pull away–he would let you have the control you needed. So much of your life had spiraled out of your own hands; he was giving you the little bit that you could drive with your own power.
You were the one to pull back for air first, your lips curving into a smile that he found more delicious than cake–and damn he loved cake. You nodded to him, and he was happy to find that your happiness finally reflected in your eyes.
"Make him go away Tae. The last person to....kiss me....was Hanseul. Make him go away." It was the first time you said the man's name without crying, Taehyung even waited for it; his thumbs were already on your cheeks, resting under your eyes. "Tae..." you whined."Just kiss me."
He obliged you.
His hands were in your hair, pulling you close even as the memories pushed out those tears he'd been waiting for. He brushed them away with soft fingers, gentle and kind–everything that had always been Taehyung to you. Even his tongue running along your bottom lip–even his teeth tugging you closer–all of his touches, they were all gentle.
And you loved him for it, but he knew that without you having to say the words.
~.~
Jungkook smacked one of your decorative pillows over your face, blocking your view of the movie you were trying to watch. "Hey!" You whisper shouted, trying not to wake the snoring Taehyung who had long since fallen asleep. You were struggling not to fall over with the man's weight on your side, his head buried in the crook of your neck with the beginnings of drool.
It was payback for all the snot on his shirts.
"What was that for?" You craned your neck to look at the maknae, watching his eyes shine with laughter. He was smiling like a god-damned fool and you instantly understood why Jimin kept texting you with hearts telling you that his Jungkookie had gotten handsomer lately. You felt like a proud mother watching your little baby grow up, even though he was the one who had done all the saving for you.
"You guys are gross." Jungkook sneered, handing you one of the bowls of popcorn he'd prepared. "You know that right?"
"Then why're you smiling?" You shot back, flinging a couple kernels into his face only to chuckle when he tried and failed to catch them in his mouth.
"Because you love him."
You looked up to Jungkook, smiling like you used to back when you were whole. "I do." You whispered. "But don't tell him that."
You were done crying, done feeling sorry for the past self that you had long since lost. Sure, you had scars where there hadn't been any–but in this world no one makes it out unharmed. You were done crying over Jimin; you were done trying to justify a hopeless love that you no longer felt.
Jimin loved you, you knew that.
But he'd lost his chance.