Butterfly

20. The Fight

Jimin opens the door, his eyes widening as he sees me. "Y/n."

I nod, walking past him, closing the door behind me. He blinks at me, not sure what's going on.

"Seokjin spent the night."

Jimin makes a sympathetic face, glancing toward the hall as if he can see into my apartment, to the two of them. "That's got to be weird."

"Yeah, it was." I lean against the wall, meeting his eyes, and he looks at me quizzically.

"What is it?"

"You didn't tell me."

Jimin pales slightly. "Tell you...what?"

"Drop the act, okay?" He flinches and I soften my voice, knowing I'm being overly upset. "Your mom."

Jimin closes his eyes briefly, his cheeks drained of color, and when he opens them again he's composed himself. "Everyone's got secrets."

"Will you just stop saying that?" I straighten up, my eyes on his. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jimin shrugs, his usual nonchalance back, but I can see the cracks in his armor of humor and smirks. "It's kind of hard, you know? Just stop kissing for a minute, pop an 'Oh, by the way, my mother's dying in the hospital right now. By the way, want to go out tomorrow night?' "

I stare at him. "We've talked plenty. You had loads of time to tell me."

"Really?" Jimin raises an eyebrow slightly, leaning against the wall, his smile vanishing. "You know, that's funny."

"Funny." I echo, watching the way he brushes his hair out of his face, the amount of effort he's putting into staying cool, composed, normal.

"Yeah. I don't know, I'm fairly certain you have quite a few things that you haven't told me."

I stiffen slightly. "Do I."

Jimin nods, running his hand through his hair, meeting my eyes. "I've asked you a shit ton of things that you've completely avoided telling me about."

I straighten, my calm demeanor vanishing, my cheeks warming. "We're not talking about me. This is about how you - "

"I'm pretty sure we're talking about keeping secrets, and you do a lot of that."

"Don't interrupt me."

"Don't get upset at me when you're being a fucking hypocrite. I don't know how you expect me to tell you everything when obviously you don't care enough to tell me everything."

Silence.

I stare at him, my face flushed, and he's still just casually leaning against the wall, as if this doesn't matter, as if he can just throw out a flirty comments or smirk and I'll forget what he just said.

"You think I don't care enough to tell you everything," I repeat slowly, my eyes locked on his dark ones.

He shrugs, his hand in his pocket, calm. "Do you?"

God, he's infuriating.

My voice is louder, rising with my anger. "What the hell is your problem?"

"Am I the one with the problem?" Jimin chuckles, low and dark, his hand pulling out of his pocket, a cigarette lighter in his fingers. "You know, it's a lot harder to talk when you're yelling at me."

"I'm not yelling."

"Yes, because raising your voice is so much better. Congratulations, I think you just won our first fight."

I want to hit him. So badly.

My voice is shaking with compressed anger as I speak again. "Can you not have one conversation like a normal person?"

Jimin chuckles lightly, flicking the wheel if the lighter with his thumb, his eyes on the flame. "I thought you knew what you were getting into, becoming hook-up buddies."

"Hook-up buddies."

"Ye-es, two people who live across the hall from each other and meet for the occasional make out session." His voice is slightly mocking, his eyebrow raised, and I stare at him, the silence horrible.

"Wow."

My voice sounds really weird, quieter than normal.

"You know what, Jimin, I don't care that you didn't tell me."

He tilts his head, closing the lighter, waiting for my next words.

"It's not like I really thought we'd last anyway."

Jimin's eyes widen slightly, and I look away from him, and it's silent, horribly silent.

"Well."

Jimin raises an eyebrow, stepping toward the door, opening it.

"I have a meet in half an hour."

I nod, my jaw set as I walk past him, out of the apartment, into the dingy hall. Jimin stands there for a minute, then chuckles lightly, a dark little laugh of pain, as he pushes the door shut. "It was good while it lasted."

The door closes, the lock clicking, and I stare at the peeling paint, my eyes blurring slightly.

What the hell was that?

I guess...we're not together anymore. It's a weird thought, and I let out a breath, barely processing what just happened, my breathing unsteady, nausea creeping up my throat, Jimin's words echoing through my mind.

It was good while it lasted.

Lasted.

I guess it is over now.