Autumn Leaves / Park Jimin fanfiction

5. The One

Mizpah
The deep emotional bond between people, especially those separated by distance or death.

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"He's the one Yoongi, I'm telling you, I just have this feeling in my gut." I pace up and down my room as Yoongi laid face down with his head in my pillow. I was amazed he hadn't managed to suffocate himself in it yet. "You know when I told you to go out and make new friends, I didn't think you would actually do it." Yoongi sighs flipping his body over so he was laying on his back. His face had become slightly reddened from the lack of oxygen he was experiencing moments earlier, and his hair sat in a mess on the top of his head.

I momentarily frown at Yoongi's response, confused by his reaction to the news. "Why aren't you excited? I thought you wanted me to go out and find new people to hang out with?" My frown deepens when the expression on Yoongi's face doesn't falter. This was a big thing for me, socialising with someone other than Yoongi was almost never heard of. I'd thought he'd be a little more excited than he was showing. "I think you'll like Jimin. You already have something in common. You're both extremely adorable." I laugh, trying to lighten the mood. Yoongi gives me a disgusted look, but I'd expected that, he hated being called adorable.

"You don't even know the guy Autumn. You've spoken to him once. I told you to find a fuck buddy not your husband-to-be. You're literally already reciting your marriage vows." Yoongi shuffled further into the thick, irresistibly soft comforter as the last beams of the late afternoon cast a shadow across his face. "You did the exact same thing with Taehyung, you painted this perfect picture of him in your head and once you saw the real him you ended up breaking your own heart."

Yoongi knew he was going to hit a nerve when it came to Taehyung, yet he continued to use him as an emotional weapon against me. I still loved Taehyung. There hadn't been a day since I met him, when I hadn't loved him. There's still old pictures of us on my phone, I knew I should delete them but I can't bring myself to do it. It's the only thing I have left of him, without them, he'd be gone forever. I remember the day he left like it was yesterday, and with it, how it feels to have my heart break into a million pieces all at once. The worst part about heartbreak is how eerily silent. Everyday thousands of hearts break, but you'd never be able to tell. It's almost as if the world couldn't handle such a sound that symbolises such destruction.

Maybe if I'd been funnier, or prettier or less volatile he would still be with me. But he wasn't, and at that moment I was blinded with rage and anger towards Yoongi. I tackle him on the bed, attempting to pin his arms down so he couldn't fight back, but Yoongi was much stronger than I was, and easily overpowered my strength. My body was still straddling his slim waist as he held my hands down, so it was now me who felt like the one that was trapped. "You're just jealous. Worried that you'll be replaced by Jimin." I argued, anger still boiling within me. I didn't want to hurt Yoongi, it was the last thing I ever wanted to do, but with so much pain and sadness within me, my body and mouth were working on instinct.

"Yes I'm jealous, okay? I'm jealous because I know how easy it would be for you to replace me," Yoongi speaks out. Even in this state, Yoongi still remained calm. He always did, even when I lashed out at him. That's why it was so hard not to forgive him, why it was so difficult to stop myself from wrapping my arms around his tiny body and apologising for ever making him feel worthless. He knew that. As quickly as it had arrived, my anger was replaced with guilt as I stared down into Yoongi's eyes which softened as he gave me a weak smile, his nose scrunching up slightly as he did so.

"You know I wouldn't ever be able to replace you. You've always been there for me and you always will be." I snuggle down into his chest as the tears flooded down my face. He held me in silence, rocking me slowly as my tears soaked into the jumper on his chest. The pain came in waves, minutes of sobbing that were broken by a short pause to recover my breath before I launched back into his outstretched arms again.

"Tinkerbell was always there for Peter. But he still chose Wendy." He responded after my breathing was back to normal and I was no longer snivelling into his t-shirt.