MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND | JIKOOK ✔

CHP 21

The water is impossibly still around Jimin's  body. He's staring ahead at Taehyung's phone as it rests on the sink counter, almost daunting him in a way - just waiting to be grabbed and used.

Taehyung had already called Namjoon and the man said he was on his way. And so now the teacher just gets to stare at it in deep contemplation.

It's a game of russian roulette, need over greed. He realizes that he shouldn't call Jeongguk - not during their current plight. However he's desperate to get some things off of his chest. To apologize and explain... perhaps help the man during his rough state of mourning. But he supposes all people deal with death differently and Jimin just so happens to be Officer Jeon's punching bag. And if that's how it has to be... then so be it.

A sigh parts his lips. He's tired of thinking. He stands from the bath; the water rippling toward the walls of the tub in dainty waves. It's with some difficulty that he steps onto the mat, a faint swell of pain lingering up the end of his spine.

Despite his overflowing sentiments of remorse and sympathy, he won't forget how Jeongguk threw him out merely minutes after making love to him. The pain isn't just on a physical level, and if not Jimin feels the ache multiplied in his heart. What once felt full enough is now of vacany, awaiting the day to be healed over and born anew - probably just to get broken all over again. Considering his luck, it would come to no surprise.

The teacher exhales quietly, in focus. He attempts to mitigate the pain by using the sink counter as leverage, pulling Officer Kim's shorts over his legs. It feels rather peculiar - to be garb in the clothes of a man he's met merely three days ago and had only talked to twice. But Taehyung gave them to him and so he'll wear them - even if they swallow him whole.

The teacher ties the shorts up and then moves on to the sleeveless shirt, basically pouring it over his body at the rate it slides over his smaller frame so easily, resting mid thigh. He feels as though he's shrunken in size, staring at his depleted reflection in the mirror. He still looks as tired as ever - face red and blotchy, eyes slowly swelling down. But at least he's much warmer than he was prior and there's actually people in the house to keep him safe.

Jimin drains the bath water and dries his hand off, opening the door, peaking his head out. He's not too sure how long he spent in there, just thinking. But perhaps a little bit too long seeing as Namjoon and Taehyung have already probably forgotten he's even in their house.

"Hyung... you can't keep this stuff on your dresser," Taehyung voices softly, standing in front of the taller man while looking up at him.

From what Jimin can tell, Namjoon is in deep contemplation of sorrow and conflict. He moves from his position adjacent to Taehyung and sits himself at the foot of their bed, face in his hands with clear distraught.

"I know, I'm sorry," the Officer mumbles into his palms, soon revealing his face and grazing his fingers over his bottom lip. "But how do you expect me to just take them down like they never meant anything to me? Like they don't mean anything?"

Jimin can visibly see the saddened shift in Taehyung's eyes from where he stands. They clearly didn't end on bad terms but maybe they just have some figuring out to do.

"That's not what I'm asking of you, Hyung... It's just... You still have some of my clothes in your drawers. Our pictures are still set up around the house. This isn't going to help move on--"

"And what if I can't? What if I can't just move on?" Namjoon interrupts as he stands to his feet, looking Taehyung in his eyes. "God, I never fell out of love with you and taking pictures down and throwing clothes away isn't going to change that. I know we did this for him, but what about us?"