Midnight - PJM

"You don't have to explain."

Jimin stares. For a moment, he cannot process it. Cannot comprehend how easily she lets it go-how effortlessly she steps over the tangled mess of his guilt, the clumsy weight of his regret, without stopping to inspect it.

"I get it," she says simply. "You're you."

The words settle over him like a rock, impossibly heavy. She doesn't elaborate. Doesn't say anything more. She doesn't have to. He understands perfectly.

You're you.

And I'm me.

And that's the way it is, isn't it? That's the way it has to be.
__________

Night after night, in the hush of an elevator at an ungodly hour, two neighbors cross paths. One, a world-renowned idol accustomed to careful distances. The other, an artist draped in quiet mystery. In the space between floors, in fleeting glances and unspoken understandings, something delicate begins to take shape.