UP THERE. | ジグク [DISCONTINUED]

six :: so proud.

六 | so proud.
_______________

13:27

namjoon set down his cup of green tea on the living room table, clearing his throat as he did so. "this is amazing, gguk. did you mix in some almonds or something?" he asked, swirling the green liquid around the mug it was poured in.

"y–yes, thank you. i–i added almond milk. it was jimin's recipe," i mumbled the last four words under my breath, playing with my fingers and staring at my distorted reflection in my own cup.

i was sure namjoon caught that, given the fact he was seated barely ten centimeters to my right, but the older continued as if nothing had left my lips.

i'm grateful for that.

"do you still write lyrics, jeongguk? you were really passionate about that, i would be surprised if you had quit—"

"i don't. i don't write songs anymore," i blankly said, eyes fixed on the crimson carpet under our feet through the glass table placed in front of us. the tv played an old-school sitcom, which was on mute, i thanked the gods for that. i couldn't bear the obnoxious, unnecessary laughter shrieking from the television.

namjoon's shoulders dropped at my previous comment. he was finally understanding how hurt i was, how utterly destroyed i felt. i couldn't do anything anymore, i felt like an emotionless robot, even if only my left calf fit the criteria of such a machine.

"i–i thought... i thought you would have expressed your... grief... um, through words, ggukie. you always did that when something bad happened. remember when you and jimin would have an argument, you would lock yourself in the studio and come back 15 minutes later with a song, and little jimin would always smile at y— oh, my god, jeongguk, please don't cry, i'm so sorry," namjoon rambled, using the sleeves of his denim jacket to catch the tears slipping out of my eyes, threatening to drip down my green milk tea.

"i–i... hit a sensitive chord, did i?" the purple haired man questioned, his hand running through my dark hair, strands falling down only a few millimeters before my jawline.

i couldn't bother to cut it.

i thought back at namjoon's words, mentally chuckling to myself. you didn't just hit a chord, you strummed the whole guitar, i had told myself.

a few minutes passed, and our empty cups were set down, one over the other as i listened to namjoon breathlessly laugh at an episode of the office. we both knew the jokes in that particular episode were far from humorous, yet the older's chuckles still filled the room every once in a while, clearly as an attempt to lighten to mood, miserably failing.

i interrupted one of his many, humorless laughs to shove a remark down his throat.

"you know, you still didn't tell me why you barged into my home at nine in the morning on a tuesday."

namjoon quickly ceased his pitiful chuckles, turning to me, watching me with a look that screamed finally.

"show me your studio."

"w–what?"

"please, trust me."

i let out a shaky sigh, eyes widened as staring at the carpet once more. "it's all dusted up, i haven't entered the room in years. besides, why the fuck would you want to see my studio? a–and why the fuck do you t–think i'd let you?" i overaggressively asked, picking at one overgrown nail on my left ring finger, trying my best to ignore the silver band tied around the digit.