Jimin's Struggle

1

Hoseok got home earlier than expected. He walked through the dorm door and took off all his winter gear. He hated winter. Coffee was an essential on cold days, so Hoseok started a fresh pot. Once he had a warm mug in his hands, he leaned against the counter. Finally, he could relax. His whole day had been busy without a moment's rest. Dance practice, an interview, a radio show, and promotional work were only some of things he had been through that day. His body ached, his mind was drained. He sighed as he sipped his hot drink.

The apartment was silent. It wasn't very often Hoseok could be in complete silence. Even though he loved and lived for music, there was nothing he loved more than pure silence. As he was appreciating this small moment, he thought he heard something. It was faint, and he wasn't sure if it had been his imagination or not. But then he heard it again, a soft crying. It had come from the bathroom.

He didn't think anyone had come home before him. He clearly remembered the others telling him they would be home late. So without any idea what to do, he grabbed a pan from the counter. He slowly made his way to the bathroom. The door was shut and the light was on inside. He panicked for a moment, goosebumps traveling up his arms. What good would a pan do against a thief or thug? What if he had a gun? But as he neared the door, he recognized the voice inside. Lowering the pan, he slowly reached for the bathroom door. It was unlocked. Hoseok twisted it slowly so not to make noise. He opened it quickly and beheld what was before him.

Jimin was kneeling in front of the toilet, his forehead resting on the seat. He was pale and sickly; tears dripped from his eyes to the cold floor. He was breathing heavily, maybe even hysterical. He didn't seem to notice Hoseok until he heard a gasp. Jimin looked up at his hyung, whose face held an unreadable expression. Hoseok was shocked. He knew Jimin wanted to lose weight, but he never thought he would do something like this.

"Hyung, you shouldn't just walk in on people."

Jimin's voice was crackly and weak. He could hardly keep his eyes open. Hoseok didn't know how long Jimin had been there, but he guessed for a long time. Jimin's eyes were all red and puffy, and he looked exhausted. He also noticed blood on Jimin's knuckles and the wooden counter. He didn't know what to think, and just stood for a moment, taking everything in.

Jimin looked away from his hyung. He was expecting Hoseok to scold him any moment now. Of course he would. Jimin knew what he was doing was stupid and wrong, and he deserved a good lecture. He didn't want to hear it, but he was too tired to care. So he was surprised when the lecture didn't come. Instead, Jimin felt Hoseok's strong hand come to rest on his slumped shoulder. It was gentle and loving, unlike the smack he was expecting. Jimin was taken back, and cowered at first, not knowing what to think.

Hoseok knelt down next to Jimin, making himself eye level with the younger. There were tears in his eyes now. Jimin's cowering made his heart break even more. Just by touching his shoulder, Hoseok could tell that Jimin had become worse than he realized. He could feel his bones, and Jimin's shirt was extremely loose around him. That same shirt had fit him perfectly not three months ago. Hoseok opened his mouth to say something, then shut it back up. Words were not the fix to this situation.

To Jimin's surprise, Hoseok took him by the shoulders, lifted him from his slouch against the toilet, and embraced him. It was not like some guy hug that lasts for half a second and is rough. This was like being held, like being protected from danger, like being hidden from evil. Hoseok wrapped his arms around Jimin, holding him tight. In any other moment, this would have been extremely too close for either boy's comfort. But right then, that was exactly what Jimin needed. He couldn't hold it in anymore. Jimin melted into Hoseok's embrace, allowing his hyung to support him against his chest. Hoseok held his brother, stroking Jimin's hair with one of his hands.