(JIKOOK) Texting Story Snippets

Sunshine

"Why doesn't anybody ever play here? It's so sad, honestly." Jimin's voice carries through the empty park, a steady rhythm of squeals from the rusty metal chains of his swing tailing behind his spoken words. Hoseok's laugh fills the quiet afternoon for a moment, but it's sound isn't familiar. It's forced and worn, as if being used as a blanket to conceal what's hiding beneath. If anything at all, Jimin is so tired of hidden truths and held back emotions. But, he shouldn't be hypocritical. He's coherently busy burying his own hurt feelings and tortured memories. His shoulders feel heavy with grief, but his lips hold onto the same fake smile.

"It's probably haunted or something." Hoseok jokes, but his own smile fades with a moment of silence. Jungkook asked for them to come to this place for a reason, and although he understands it fine, Jimin seems reluctant to access the emotions of that night. Hoseok wonders to himself if the boy is still afraid of reliving the pain he must have felt. He wonders if Jimin is afraid to lose his breath again.

The younger sways in his swing, and his head is a mess. He can remember the night Jungkook wants him to remember in vivid detail, nothing missing to haze out the memories of agony and regret. Goosebumps litter his skin, his thoughts suddenly visible it feels as such, if only Hoseok would look over in his direction. "It's haunted for us, isn't it?" Jimin whispers, and the fear comes alive in his eyes as quick as the spark of a match. With surprise written in the crinkle lines of Hoseok's forehead, the man's eyes find his own. A genuine lift of Jimin's lips relaxes the tension in his frame. It's a good thing to find Hoseok's expression full of disbelief instead of disappointment. This is the purpose of Jungkook's game, to heal from it. To heal from the past.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hoseok whispers, the safety precautions set upon his expression choices filtering out, his mask of good times and sunshine wiped clean from his dewy skin. Jimin's gaze locked onto his own flickers away, irises still clearly trapped by fear, voice muffled by a closing throat. Yes, Jimin is scared. Hoseok reaches for his friend again, finding the cool skin of the boys forearm to hold onto.

Jimin's vision blurs, only slightly. He's definitely not crying, but emotion creeps upon him the same way it always has. His throat is dry, his breath is a bit unsteady. Jimin's fingers fumble to hold onto something, anything at all. He sighs deeply, pinching the hem of his shirt to calm his flashbacks. "We're here to talk about it, aren't we?" The younger chuckles, voice strained already with emotion. "I guess we should do that. Then, maybe this place won't feel so haunted."

Feeling fondness for Jimin expand his chest, Hoseok's voice breaks when he speaks. "You're absolutely right, Chim."

"Don't cry, though." Jimin mutters now, his voice traveling into his lap as he watches his knees. Hoseok's hand travels down to his hand, the comfort of his friend beside him ringing heavy and true through the touch. He was so afraid that night, but he was never alone. As scared of the night he was always known to be, it wasn't the darkness that terrified him then. It was being left alone on the side of the street by a boy that meant everything and more to him, by a man that owned his heart and crushed it so simply in the palm of his hand. Jimin was afraid of being alone, but Hoseok would never let that happen. Jimin should have recognized it better that night, but his heart was too broken to see how faithful his best friend would always be.

Hoseok clears his throat, nodding to agree to the others conditions. "I won't, promise." The side of his lips raise into a challenging smirk, one that drops quickly. Jimin doesn't raise his head with his words, a sign of building emotion he detects immediately. Shaking their joined hands gently, Hoseok sighs into a whisper. "Hey, you can't cry either."