⌜ jeon jungkook ⌟
"NAMJOON. dude. what the fuck are you doing?"
he blinked a few times and looked up at me, his phone light illuminating his chin. his hands were shaking, really. they were shaking bad.
"i'm texting?" he said, his voice was odd.
i think jimin noticed too.
"you're trembling," i say, watch namjoon scoff weakly and sling a hand around his neck. he grimaces.
"yeah, joon, are you cold or something?" jimin asks, sprawled across namjoon's neatly folded bed. the window diagonal is open and the blinds are pulled up, midday sunlight rests on jimin's skin.
"no," namjoon says, coldly. "i'm not cold."
jimin looks hurt.
"woah, woah, no need to be so uptight," i defend, mainly for jimin (because i'm whipped for him being happy. no one likes an unhappy jimin).
"yeah, who shoved a stick up your ass?"
namjoon snarls at me. he won't even look at jimin until he says in the most monotone way, "your mom."
"how mature," jimin murmurs and sighs. he pulls his phone out and i watch him type the password quickly—i know it's joon's birthday. but joon doesn't know that it's his birthday. of course he wouldn't, he's completely oblivious and now jimin's hurt and i'm going to be stuck in the middle.
"joon, seriously, what the hell is up with you?" i ask, exasperated. i think we're all exasperated at this point. it's been about a week since we've hung out at the playground, since we've all been together. namjoon's just been so distant, he hasn't texted much on our group chat except to ask if we wanted to come over today.
"it's just," he begins. he's so frustrated, he keeps staring at his phone and then he shuts it off and then he turns it back on and stares at his wallpaper of jimin, him, and me, then he goes to his messages and repeats the cycle. "yoongi hasn't texted me back in a few days."
then—which, i don't expect—jimin verbally, and quite loudly, groans. (and i completely understand.)
"what?" namjoon asks, and swerves to see jimin roll his eyes.
"you're in love with that kid, aren't you?" jimin says, he's so angry his voice is high and i feel bad for him. "he's a fucking robot, joo—"
"he's not!" joon yells, and turns his phone off. then on. then stares. then goes to his messages. then turns it off. "and i'm not in love with him. i'm just worried, we were talking a lot and then he just completely disappeared! what if he's dead?"
i sit down beside jimin. he probably needs it. "for the record, you haven't texted us in a few days, namjoon," i murmur. then to sweeten the message i say, "and you aren't dead."
i don't think he appreciates it very much.
"i just, i worry about him, you know? i think he's got some screws loose or.. something."
jimin groans again, but louder and he slams his hand down on the bed this time. "so you're saying he's mental, aren't you? and you can worry about some absolutely insane freakin'... robot kid but you can't worry about us?"
"i do worry about you!" namjoon defends, but it's empty. jimin and i know better—his reply is empty and instead of being bottomless it's hit rock bottom and we're tired, we're so tired of being thrown aside.
"joon, you haven't given a single shit about us since you met that yoongi guy. i get if you're infatuated with him but bro! you, jimin, and i have been best friends for years! you can't just throw us aside like this!"
jimin nods, he agrees. "we love you so much, and we know you love us too but it would really make me feel better if you replied to my texts. you know how much it hurts hearing you talk about how frustrated you are that yoongi isn't replying? fucking think about me, namjoon! think about me! i'm important too!"
namjoon is silent. his lips are pursed as he walks over and sits on the bed with us, shutting his phone off again and slipping it into his pocket—differently than what he would do before. i can tell he's itching to pull it out and check to see if there's any text from yoongi, but i'm glad he doesn't. jimin would freak if he saw namjoon pull his damn phone out again.
"i-i didn't realize..." he murmurs and looks at us, focusing first on me before his pitiful gaze moves to jimin. we're all tired, we're all stressed, and we all just want to go home. even when we're home, i know it's been really difficult lately for all of us. especially jimin, he's always tired and i feel bad because he doesn't know where to go anymore.
we are all just a little bit lost, i think.
"namjoon, answer me honestly," jimin says, his voice is a lullaby. very soothing, though namjoon looks tense. "why do you care so much about min yoongi?"
he tenses more, his fingers are shaking and i know more than he does how much he wants to pull that phone out. how much he wants to check his empty inbox because he's so damn self-conscious.
"he's a new friend of mine," namjoon whispers. he sighs. "he's.. different." he pauses. "he's different than all of us, and i really like that."
jimin scrunches his eyebrows together and bites his lip. "are you in love with him?"
namjoon scoffs. "no. he's absolutely crestfallen for his best friend... i don't have a chance with him so i don't think about it."
"but you want to have a chance with him, don't you?" i ask, and namjoon shrugs. he has four eyes burning into his brain, i think it really bothers him.
"i did, at first. he's just a friend now," namjoon says. he squeezes his neck with a calloused palm, he closes his eyes. stress. i can see it—he's anxious. "but that doesn't mean i don't care about him."
jimin sighs, softly. so softly, so quietly, so... sad.
i wonder if he's given up.
