varsity | vmin

43

     Ever notice how we don't watch the ground as we walk?
We just blindly trust that the ground will always be there to hold us up.
What happens when it's no longer there?
Do we fall?
Or do we stay?
Right there. On that last spot of stable ground.
It's easy to think of the things we take for granted.
Frankly, what don't we?

❦

Beige.

No, not the color. The feeling.

The color was white. It smelled faintly of coffee. Perhaps the distinct scent was simply burned into the fabric they wore, not seeping from the walls surrounding; they were white.

It was quiet. So much that Jimin could hear each time Taehyung expelled a breath and vice versa. The quiet was beige.

The two boys were lying on their backs, head to head, staring up at the empty apartment ceiling. The ceiling was white as well, but it felt beige. Jimin felt beige. Taehyung felt beige. The apartment felt beige. Everything was beige.

     Beige was not a color. Beige was comfortable. Beige meant new beginnings.

"It's nice," Taehyung sputtered, the first words to exist since the odd but necessary lying down upon the polished wood floors, poetic ceiling stare.

Jimin closed is eyes to breathe. "I like it."

The sensation of movement above him commanded his eyes ajar, the upside down face of his boyfriend hovering over his.

The younger leaned down, connecting his lips to the other's in a still kiss.

"We've got a lot of packing to do."

Jimin's smile grew.

"Can't we just lay here forever? I like it better empty, anyway. Cozy."

"Come on," Taehyung helped lift the other back onto his feet, "The realtor wants you out by today."

There was a sigh. A knowing one.

"Wish granted."

Jimin swiftly grabbed the apartment keys from the grip of his boyfriend, sauntering off towards the door.

A half grin was worn by Taehyung as he followed Jimin into the hallway, intertwining their fingers once in reach.

❦

"That should be the last of it." Taehyung satisfactorily swatted at the sweat beginning to collect about his face, stacking a cardboard box branded 'miscellaneous' in chunky ink pen lettering at it's side on top of several others scattered about the living room.

Jimin capped the marker he held in his hand as he slowly rose from his seated position on the couch. A thankful exchange was shared between the two boys, the low hum of the air conditioner drowning out the absence of words.

Not much seemed to be missing as far as the living room and kitchen were concerned. It was still Jimin's old home. The one he grew up in. The same sad excuse for a dining table as it only had two chairs, just enough for him and his mother, remained in the center of the kitchen. The same couch where countless movie marathons were held as well as long chats into the dark of night held true to its location. Even the same old height tracker drawn on the door frame leading into the hallway stood out reminiscent as ever.