Diary of The Infinite

28| Beginning

Taehyung latched onto my hand as soon as he reached my side. He tugged me into the restaurant, already launching into a full scale investigation.

"So who is he? What's his name, again? How do you know him? Is he cute?" Tae dragged me into a booth.

I hummed, finding where to start. "Min Yoongi. We knew each other a long time ago, he's always been kinda shy." I didn't answer his last question.

"Is. He. Cute." Taetae would not be satisfied.

I groaned, putting my head on the table. "Um, I... mean ..... yes? Very? He's very attractive."

"Oh my! A whipped Jiminie! I'm telling Kookie." Tae clapped his hands excitedly.

"Taetae, behave yourself, we're in public." I scolded him, putting a hand over his. I was hoping to avoid another round of undue applause.

"Welcome to Kim's are you ready to order?"

"Yoongi!" I squawked, it was a very dignified squawk mind you. "I didn't know you worked here!"

Yoongi's wide eyes took in mine and Taehyung's clasped hands. "I do."

"I'm Kim Taehyung," Tae grinned, "Self-proclaimed best friend of Jiminie."

"C-cool." Yoongi bit his lip. "Your orders?"

The pair ordered quickly and Yoongi disappeared.

"Not too friendly," Taehyung frowned.

"He's nervous, I caught him off guard."

"Hmmmmm." Was the only response.

Rolling my eyes, I settled back in my seat, relishing his close Yoongi was. I hadn't realized how close we were until he was right in front of me, but the steady, upbeat thrum in my chest assured me that he was still close. I could fall asleep to this. It's so soothing.

"Jiminie?" Tae kicked me under the table. "Your boyfriend's back."

I say up very quickly, the protest dying on my lips, Yoongi, in fact, was not here. But he was on his way.

"Are you tired Jimin?" End -- Yoongi -- asked.

"Oh, not really, no. Thanks."

Yoongi nodded, set our orders down, and left again.

"He so likes you." Taehyung announced, ignoring the daggers I was sending him with my eyes.

_______________________End________________________

I so like Park Jimin, I thought, resisting the urge to smack my head against the door. I felt so very jealous at the innocent hand holding between the two best friends. And I asked if he was tired. I shouldn't have asked. I really should not have asked. Ugh.

I knew things were about to fall apart, but I hadn't expected it to be this soon. I stayed in the kitchen for as long as I could get away with, but Jin might get upset if I didn't get a move on.

"Here's your check." I put the paper down and turned to leave.

A hand gripped my wrist. "Wait a second Yoongi. Is your break soon? I was hoping we could talk for a minute."

Beginning. Jimin. Jimin was holding my wrist. Skin to skin.

"Jim...min..." I whispered.

My heart was beating too fast. The room was wavering in and out of focus. Jimin was touching me. And Jimin was okay.

"Yoongi?"

Jimin was on his feet, holding me upright.

Two hands.

Reflexively, my fingers grasped at Jimin's arm, my body leaned into his hold. The room was spinning in a dizzying whirlwind. The color's brightened and darkened.

Jimin was okay.

"Beginning..." I whispered.

"End?" Jimin's voice was low and concerned, always so caring. It isn't fair of me to make him worry.

"I . . . "

_____________________Beginning____________________

I caught Yoongi as he slumped forward into my arms and unconsciousness. I awkwardly handled him into my seat and Taehyung ran off to find a manager or someone helpful.

"End?" I whispered. I squeezed his hand, holding him upright against my chest.

Tae came back with a tall, official looking staff member sporting a name tag with 'Jin' in big bubbly print. He asked me to take him to his apartment. Apparently, Namjoon talked me up and the couple trusted me enough to deliver Yoongi to Namjoon. This I had to do on my own, Taehyung had to go into work.

Before I knew it, I was in End's apartment, Joon fussing about the empty cabinets. There were papers everywhere. I stopped to examine one. Then another. Beautiful. Familiar.

The papers were sketches of nature, life, anything really, but all were depictions were of the early stages of the object. Rather than a tree, there was a sapling, instead of a daisy, a delicate bud. There was a sketch of an entire garden right before bloom.

"Yoongi loves drawing," Namjoon smiled fondly. "But he only draws--"

"The beginning of things?" I asked, casting about in search of one work to the contrary. One still life of a giant oak. A full rose.

"-and dead things, yeah. Those ones are dark." He finished with a sigh. He obviously was less than enthusiastic about the negativity Yoongi embraced.

Namjoon tossed me a sketchbook that he'd retrieved from a drawer.

"I'm going to see if Yoongs is awake yet." Namjoon declared.

I focused on the notebook, barely nodding a response. It was heavy and worn, with mismatched papers sticking out and curling around the edges. I could see what Joon meant by dark. End had drawn countless trees. Withered and dry. Without leaves and shaded to appear as if they had been drained of color. So many dead trees. But i recognized this tree. I knew the tree. I kept flipping through. Other objects emerged: animals, plants, people, words I assumed to be the last words spoken in dead languages. I couldn't actually place them all. I reached the final page and it took a moment to register what I was looking at.

I covered my mouth with my hand and shoved the book back in its place.

Edited ✔