𝗪𝗲 𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝗔𝗻𝘆𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲┃𝗣. 𝗝𝗺✘𝗝.𝗝𝗸

Melancholy

Dinners are probably the worst. It happens rarely, but every once in a while, Jimin and Jungkook both manage to come home at around the same time, meaning they both have to eat at the same table.

Jimin had tried taking his plate to the bedroom once, but Jungkook had just sighed and said, "Come on." After a minute or so of hesitation, Jimin had warily put his plate back down.

And so here they are, facing each other, no other sound than the construction site going on outside to fill the silence of the room, a heavy tension floating above both of their heads. Jungkook can barely stand to bring more food to his mouth because the grating noise his fork makes when it collides with the plate is insufferable.

He's probably never noticed it before because Jimin would usually be chattering his ear off about something his colleague had told him at work. "She puts watermelon on her pizza, Kookie. Do you hear this? I mean, I know pineapple is already a stretch, but watermelon?" Jungkook's mouth curves into a sad smile. It's stupid that he remembers those evening conversations in such detail, but he does. And most importantly, he misses it.

"How was your day?"

It takes Jungkook a moment to realize that the question doesn't come straight from another one of his daydreams. He snaps his head up only to be met with Jimin's hesitant gaze. His voice had been small and flimsy as he'd spoken those words, but they're out here in the open all the same.

Jungkook clears his throat. "Good." He doesn't really think about his answer, can't even remember what the hell happened during his day. The only thing that he cares about, right now, is answering Jimin's question. "Good, yeah. We, um- the company's making progress. Boss said I might get a promotion."

Jimin smiles and strangely enough, it looks genuine. The very second that this thought crosses his mind, Jungkook immediately chastises himself - why wouldn't it look genuine? They might both have their disagreements, but Jimin has never been unkind to him. Not once.

"That's great, Jungkook." The lack of nickname almost makes him whimper - Jimin sounds too formal, too guarded, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do to break the ice that's starting to fill the space in-between them.

He responds with a small smile of his own, and when it's apparent that Jimin doesn't intend to keep the conversation going, he drops his gaze back to his food. It looks dull, unappealing. Cooking isn't really fun unless they do it together, or unless he does it for Jimin as a surprise.

Still, they both finish eating in silence, starved from their long day at work.

Jimin gets up first - he brings his plate and cutlery to the sink and sprays a good amount of water on them, probably too lazy to wash them properly. Once he's done, Jungkook almost catches himself hoping that Jimin will go to their bedroom, put on a comfortable, oversized tshirt and tell Jungkook to join him for sleep in that lovely, quiet voice he always uses when the evening is starting to turn into night.

But he doesn't, and Jungkook remains alone at the dinner table.