pull the trigger ⋆ vmin

Test Drive

Waiting on a sacrificial life,
waiting on the ones who didn't fight

Jimin can do with the rain better than he can with the wind. Rain is like a cold blanket that covers you up and swallows you whole, weighing down on you and sneaking through the spaces your shoes discover as you walk. Rain is like the kid you once met and befriended faster than anyone else that one time you went to the park and who you never saw again but still think about—you keep wondering, in the back of your mind, where they went; if they moved, maybe, if they just didn't like that specific park, if they didn't like you. You sometimes imagine a world where the both of you would have been best friends. Because imagining someone you don't know that well makes it easier to deal with. That's the effect of rain—even when it stops pouring you feel the wetness on your clothes, on the part of your hair that wasn't covered by your hood, on your hands when you brought out your phone to tap a quick message through the drops that make it harder. There's this reminiscence to it, to rain.

However, with wind, it's the opposite. It comes blowing directly at you, messy, unnerving. Ready to ruin everything; to carry the words that fall from your mouth somewhere else, as if in an echoing church; ready to dry your lips and the inside of your vocal cavity if you dare to laugh too loudly; ready to make your nose red and runny, your eyes teary and half-closed, your cheeks insensitive. The wind simply destroys everything Jimin puts some effort into: his appearance, his face, his clothes, his mood. And then the wind stops, and he just forgets that it ever existed—that's the problem with it, as well. You forget about it until you're shaking in your boots from the air that filters through the holes within every bottom of your coat.

So Jimin is quick to forget about the wind that day. He enters the house quickly and closes the door with a sigh, takes in the stillness of his home and smiles. Puts away his scarf, starts unbuttoning his coat as he pulls down on the back of his high-heeled boots with the point of his other foot. Hangs the heavy piece of clothe, bows to put his shoes into a corner. He is sliding one of his sleepers on, groaning at the pleasuring feeling of the welcoming cotton inside the shoe that makes him finally feel at home, when he hears them.

It's so quick at first he thinks it's his own echo. Then he is putting on the second sleeper on, helping himself with his indexes (his right foot is a bit bigger than the other one. Not enough to require a new size, but surely to make it harder to fit), when he hears it again.

Their house isn't big, it was never meant to be, anyways. Everything seemed like it fit just right for two people, and the air always seems to get heavier whenever they bring someone else around, as if an extra pair of lungs exhaling carbon dioxide is noticeable for them. They had both agreed, and Taehyung had been especially effusive about this, that they didn't want a big house. A big house would mean too many empty spaces, too many places to hide from each other, too many moments feeling lonely inside their own house. So they chose a small place, which included a small kitchen that was immediately connected to the living room (if you turned around on the couch you could check the microwave, which was a decisive factor for Jimin. He knows Taehyung doesn't understand, but he has his reasons); a bathroom that had little space in it for two people to brush their teeth at the same time (despite that, Jimin and Taehyung always found the way to stand so that they could look, mock and smile at each other through the reflection of their stained mirror; also found how to have sex in the shower; and eventually found out that flashing the toilet at the same time the other is showering makes the water turn boiling hot. Jimin normally uses it as a prank. Taehyung just likes to see the red marks in Jimin's skin and kissing them hotter), and a bedroom that consisted on a shared bed and a closet which was hardly accessible (apart from a bedside table that had been placed on Taehyung's side, though he didn't use it but to snatch the books Jimin usually reads at nights from behind those glasses that make his eyes bigger from his hands and put them there when he has grown tired of waiting for him to cuddle him to sleep).