Warm Hands (Ice Cold Heart) | Jimin x Reader

Nine

By the time the silent auction rolls around, the final event of the night, you are exhausted. But this is for a good cause, a multitude of charities, so you try your best to participate within your own means. You bid on a few things: a gorgeous porcelain vase, a comically large, one-of-a-kind alpaca stuffy, but don't actually win anything. It's alright. You smile at the elated look on a young girl's face as she is handed the stuffy, overshadowed by the enormous thing before her dad helps out to stop her from toppling over altogether. You sip on your cocktail, letting the quiet buzz settle in to make everything seem a little less serious.

"Ah, now our next item is a very special collection from an up-and-coming rising star in the industry. Let me invite the winner of Promise's film contest to the stage to describe what he's donated for our auction today! Please welcome Jeon Jungkook."

Jungkook climbs the steps to the makeshift stage carefully, holding a small card that you assume is his prepared description. He winces a bit under the bright spotlight before he offers a shy smile to the room. "Hi. Hi! I'm Jeon Jungkook. Thank you for inviting me today. I'm really honored to be here and to have won the contest." He looks down at the paper, scanning the lines. "So, today, I've brought a collection of photos, titled Still With You." He gestures to the cloth-covered board beside him and the tapestry is immediately whisked away by the attendant.

You are not the only person to gasp at the sight.

Delicate. That's the first word that slips into your mind, with intimate clutched close in its palm. The photos are tinged blue and grey, the quietly intense colors suffused in every pixel. You think they call this overlay. Or is it double exposure? Vague terms float in your mind as you try to make sense of what you see: a sheer arm draped over bedsheets that seem to be made of snow, melting into the fallen petals of a carnation. The end wisps of hair scattered over a pillow, over a bare back, the world beyond turned into the surrendering rays of a lingering horizon. The rest are in the same vein — an obscured, isolated part of the body caught within a moment, fleeting.

"I took the model half of these photographs a long time ago. The sceneries are more recent, as I travelled around, revisiting." Jungkook's quiet sigh is captured by the sensitive microphone, reverberating around the room. "I wanted..." He trails off, biting his lip, then turns his head to look at his creations. To your surprise, he ends up tucking the guide paper away. Instead, he rests his palms on the side of the podium and looks out into the darkness. "I wanted to capture longing. It comes in so many forms, so when I returned to these older photos, I tried to combine them together. That is, combine my own personal longing and... a longing I think we can all relate to — for precious things to last a bit longer, even if they will inevitably fade." Standing up there, he looks so nervous, gripping the wood tight. "The person in these photos is incredibly special to me. And with this collection, I want to say to them that... even though what we had has slipped through our fingers, you will always be a part of me. And I hope I will always be still with you. Thank you."

His eyes are a little misty, a lot honest.

With that, the announcer takes the stage again, ready to begin the bid, but you're excusing yourself and slipping out the door.

You know Jungkook has just let you go.

You should be happy and you are, you really are, but some part of it feels like breaking up with him all over again. That night, you watched his heart split apart when he realized you weren't joking. You can't look at those photos of you and see yourself frozen so beautifully through his eyes with that memory replaying in your mind. It's time you need, to let this small, re-opened wound heal. It's nothing compared to what you inflicted on him, but you just— you'd like a few minutes right now, to catch your breath.

So, for the second time tonight, you find yourself climbing the staircase, trying not to listen to the bids for a collection that you know is absolutely priceless.