he ; yoonmin

epilogue

— 1 YEAR LATER —

Winter holidays were like a breath of fresh air for jimin.

the canvas of his life was painted in such a way that brought the promise of new beginnings and warmth. the trees were starting to appear more brittle; their leaves sparsely scattered along the branches and piling up underneath their bases. it hadn't begun to snow yet, but the chill in the air that nipped along his neck reminded him of the looming clouds that would spill eventually—if not with snow than a chilly rain.

jimin was swaddled in a large black coat—courtesy of his boyfriend—sporting earmuffs. he'd sent a picture of himself to yoongi earlier, a blushy hue painting the apples of his round, smiling cheeks.

he'd expected a simple compliment, especially being that the older was at one his father's involuntary meetings. instead, he got a call in return. yoongi had excused himself to the bathroom the coo and croon at how cute jimin looked and how unfair it was that they weren't together

"i just want to kiss all over your face and squeeze you until you pop!"
"yoongi, that doesn't sound very nice."

the past year had been a whirlwind of emotions for jimin. as hard as he tried to push down everything that built up inside him, all of his pent up anger and hurt came flooding out in tirades and explosions. if he wasn't irritated by the smallest things, then he was sitting around spaced out. he didn't cry often. no, he hadn't cried after jungkook left. not once. his trauma left him fuzzy around the edges of his fiery middle.

he'd shrugged off his coat and pulled off his ear muffs after entering the office building. it smelled like fresh lilac and brewing coffee inside the sitting area. "hello, jimin." the receptionist kindly greeted as she did every other thursday jimin saw her. he smiled complimenting her scarf as he signed in on the roster and scribbling down the time beside his name.

there weren't many people in the waiting room, but then again, there usually isn't. the only person beside himself and the receptionist was a girl who looked a few years older than him, sitting a little ways down and filling out a sheet attached to a plastic clipboard. seeing her made him think back to when he'd first came here, yoongi at his side and encouraging as always.

at first, he didn't want to seek for help in a complete stranger. he had nothing against therapy, thinking the stigma around it was utter bullshit. he just wasn't comfortable with reliving his deception, much less relaying it all to someone he didn't know enough to be comfortable with. he had a hard enough time with talking about it to his parents.

it wasn't much later that the glass door leading further into the building opened, and jimin was called through it by his therapist. she was a kind and patient lady who jimin found comfort in. it was weird at first, he thought during the first few months. he didn't want to get close to her, but had found himself beginning to seek comfort in her presence.

her office was cozy and he found himself sinking into the chair's cushion with ease every time he entered. there was always the odd but pleasant smell of floral lotion and chamomile, it was a scent that seemed attached to her as well. he remembered the first time he broke down, clinging to her small frame and inhaling the calming aroma that clung to her cardigan.

"it's nice to see you again, jimin," she was a foreigner by the name of yui, a decade older than jimin himself. it's been almost seven months since he began attending, but he still found himself itching with nervousness at the beginning of their sessions. "how was your day?" as always, she slid him a freshly baked blueberry muffin that was still warm, along with a bottle of water. instantly, he begun to relax into their regular routine.