with the deceptions of the other's thoughts and the quiet facade that kept the truthful ones hidden, everything was very uncertain. unclear.
jimin could admit that he can't express his feelings well. it was common for him to be perceived a different way rather than he intended, and that was the only thing that jimin was certain of, especially with the altercation that took place only hours before.
he didn't mean to hurt jungkook like he did. it was all out of spite: provoking jungkook, disregarding his feelings, insulting eunseo. it was all because he couldn't control himself, let the barbarity inside let loose, and it only resulted in two hurt boys. both physical and emotional. he felt sorry — for the cut on jungkook's lip but for also the fact that he thought that jimin didn't care about his feelings. but he did. he did, more than himself, more than eunseo, and maybe more than anything.
so jimin felt like shit. the both of them did. they could only keep the incident to themselves and try to cover up the battle wounds when the rest of the boys arrived home not long after. they didn't want to go through the scolding, the questioning, the judgement over the fact that they actually fought over a girl. instead, they acted as if the fight didn't take place at all. in front of the others and in front of the cameras, the two remained as their usual selves. they avoided each other in any settings otherwise.
jimin tried reading. he had a few books that he needed to catch up on anyway, and thought that it would be a good way to keep himself occupied before he had to go to bed. he was assigned to sleep in the living room that night; he spent most of his time in the other boys' rooms anyway — except yoongi's. the other space in that room was occupied by jungkook. he didn't know if he would be in there or not, didn't want to take the risk of coming face to face with him again over wanting to spend time with yoongi.
there came a time where the other boys had to call lights out, and one by one, jimin was kicked out of each room. it was very clear to namjoon that he was stalling, despite him not knowing exactly why he was acting so strange. "go to bed, jimin," were the last words that he heard before he had to eventually move to his own space. "get ready for a long day tomorrow."
and so he obeyed.
jimin quietly made his way to the living room. he held his book in one hand (he was determined to finish it that night) and his cellphone in the other. as he made his way down the dark hallway, only the subtle glow of his phone illuminated his way, until the light from the living room started to envelop his view, as well as the sight of jungkook on the couch, asleep.
fuck, jimin thought to himself.
he couldn't just be an ass and wake him up to tell him to move. so he stood there awkwardly, unsure with what exactly he could do as if a baby was just dropped off at his doorstep until he decided to compromise and seated himself on the other side of the couch. he sat there very quietly, being careful to not even breathe too loudly.
jimin couldn't help but notice how well jungkook was sleeping, on the couch, even. he must have been exhausted, he thought. but he just snapped back to looking down at his open book. he tossed and turned, more than jungkook did, and with every word that he glided past on the page only the thought of their fight prevailed his mind. the scene of jungkook punching him, him punching jungkook, played on repeat. and he couldn't do anything about it but feel like absolute shit.
jimin could only gaze at the sleeping boy before him. he couldn't do anything else. couldn't move him, couldn't hit him, couldn't speak to him — what would he say anyway? couldn't he just wait until he wakes up and moves himself?
but then he noticed that he began to shiver.
he glanced down at his own blanket and pillows, and back up at the arms that hugged jungkook's own body. so he nearly threw down his book beside him and got up to scavenge through all of the closets for extra sheets. god, he couldn't get his own blanket himself, he huffed, is he asking for a cold? but after he began to hear shuffling behind him, he huffed to himself more quietly to make sure he doesn't wake the boy up.
returning to the living room was a few pillows, which were basically forced under jungkook's head, and then a blanket that was sloppily thrown across his body. jimin, still huffing, plopped down at his seat again, until he saw how the blanket was barely giving jungkook any warmth with how much he was fidgeting in his sleep. so he stood up again, this time neatly spreading the blanket around him, making sure that he was completely covered.
and finally, jimin was satisfied enough to tuck himself in as well.
under the covers, he could only let out a deep breath. he could only inhale, then exhale, until he felt like there was nothing else left. he could only look at the younger boy with fondness in his eyes rather than rage. and that's when he realized that no amount of envy or resentment could allow him to tear down that fondness.
—
a/n: jikook and jimin being a tsundere ( Ĭ ^ Ĭ )
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