The Stars In His Eyes...The Hate In Your Heart | JHS

It's Like Dancing On Moonbeams

Branches claw at your face and snag in your hair as you mindlessly stumble through the trees—your vision blurs, hot tears thundering down your cheeks in a torrent you can't control. The echo of Namjoon's words clangs around in your head, making you feel disoriented.

The toe of one of your shoes catches a humping tree root, and you go down hard. Blood fills your mouth as your teeth chomp your tongue with the jarring fall. Quiet sobs shake your chest as you push yourself up and stumble forward again, absently brushing the dirt and debris from your abraded palms.

Thankfully, your father is still gone when you swing open the backdoor and shuffle inside. You kick off your shoes in the small mudroom, quickly disappearing into your shared room. The beds are small, with just a few feet of creaking floorboards separating them and a small window between the headboards.

The closet has a small chest of drawers shoved under the few dozen hanging items of clothing, half the drawers yours and half Namjoon's. You pull open your top drawer, grabbing a clean pair of long pajama pants. They're threadbare but comfortable and will cover the welts.

Namjoon comes in through the back door long after you make a small pot of rice for dinner. There's dirt covering the knees of his khakis, and sweat makes the strands of his hair stick together on his forehead.

"Father went to town?" he asks, his voice pitched low as he comes in behind where you're washing up the few dishes you used for dinner.

You set the dishes on the drying rack on the counter, grabbing a towel to dry your hands before turning to face him. "He left this morning after breakfast."

Relief is evident on Namjoon's face. "Any idea when he'll be back?"

"He had an appointment to discuss the harvest. I imagine he'll be home late or early tomorrow, same as always." You know your voice has a coldness, and you know Namjoon is picking up on it.

"Everything okay?"

Anger burns in your belly, upsetting the meager meal you just finished. "Everything's fine," you say, stepping around him to go to your room. "I'm going to bed early. Try to be quiet."

"Whoa, Kitty!" Namjoon grabs your arm as you try to pass him. "Why are you limping?"

Jerking your arm from his grip, you bare your teeth at him. "It's nothing."

"That's not nothing. I can clearly see you're in pain. What did he do to you?" Namjoon's eyes bore into yours, panic lacing his question. He's as familiar with your father's belt as you are.

"I said it's nothing, so it's nothing. Just leave it, okay?" You shove away from him, wincing against the ache in your thighs as you try not to limp as noticeably. "Not like you care what I have to say anyway." They're whispered words, but you're sure you said them loud enough that Namjoon would hear. In part, you want him to ask again. You want to know he cares about your opinion, regardless of what Hoseok said by the lake. But he doesn't say anything more or ask again...

You curl up in your bed, facing the wall, with your back to Namjoon when he finally slides into his bed. You can hear him tossing and turning for a while before the noise is replaced with his soft, even breathing.

The first tear slides into your hair as you realize you've lost him. Namjoon no longer needs you the way he once did. That reality can only be placed at one person's feet—Jung Hoseok.

_____________

You startle awake, heart in your throat. Your pillow is wet, soaked with tears still sliding down your cheeks. Scrubbing at your cheeks angrily, you throw back the blanket and swing your legs over the side of your bed.