❝Could you please calm down? Your colors are distracting me.❞
❝My what?❞
Jimin has synesthesia and is afraid of seeing the world.
Yoongi just wants to see a bit of color.
→ started : July 11 2018
→ completed :
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→ July 17 2018
10:37pm
"Jimin! Come downstairs, please!"
The boy closed his book with a soft sigh, then shifted off of his bed. Little spirals of gray twirled on the edge of his vision as the bed squealed in protest from beneath him.
Walking down the steps as lightly as he could, Jimin met his mother in the kitchen. Several plastic grocery bags rested on the counter, but the woman made no attempts to start putting things away.
"You just got groceries on Saturday, Mom. What did we need?" Jimin furrowed his eyebrows, starting to peek inside the bags.
"Oh!" She replied, the cheeriness in her voice a little forced. "Well, I went out and got your school supplies on my way home," She said, a nervous smile creasing her face.
Jimin's heart fell. "I thought we were gonna go out tomorrow night, together?" He hadn't intended it as a question, but he couldn't help it. Jimin's mother began to wring her hands together, restlessly shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she searched for an explanation.
"I just... I thought it'd be easier. So you wouldn't have to worry about going out yet."
So you wouldn't go out at all.
The unspoken words hung heavily from their shoulders.
"But I wanted..." Jimin trailed off, knowing that the words he wished he could say would only hurt her. "It's okay, Mom. Thanks for thinking about me."
Familiar silence engulfed them. Jimin didn't see any of the colors or shapes, but he was aware of the feeling of a burnt yellow that seemed to rush through his blood. The feeling of a well-expected betrayal.
It was a feeling he was all too familiar with.
"You should get to bed soon. It's late." The woman finally said.
They parted again. Jimin went upstairs again, plastic bags in tow. His mother stood in the kitchen, quiet, watching the dark rain fall outside the window, an empty glass in hand.
11:09pm
Latching the door behind him, Jimin took in the room before him. A dark blue-gray had been cast across the room as a result of the rain, bringing out the shadows he had been familiar with since he was a child.
"Oh, Mom," Jimin whispered into the air as he leaned against the wall. If only she knew how badly he had wanted the chance to go out. Late at night, he had imagined himself bumping into someone his own age, someone to exchange numbers with, someone to talk to.
He longed for it, but not at the expense of causing her pain. She hurt each time Jimin told her he was lonely, so, years ago, he had learned to keep his desires to himself.
