... And Other Ships

JiKook: Kitchen Light

The chill from the black and white kitchen tiles bleed through my pine oversize rabbit hoodie and black jeans. Or maybe my body heat bleeds into the cold tiles. I don't know. My eyes stare blankly at the popcorn ceiling, making snowflake-constellations against the white surface. Piano-cello duets play through my earbuds, making the dark kitchen seem even darker with all the minor chords. It all bleeds into noise as I slowly close my eyes, shutting out the dim light that emits from the countertop night-light in the corner of the small kitchen.

For the past few months, my depression and anxiety had been tugging at the hem of my shirt like a whiny child would do to their mother. But instead of giving up and leaving me alone, it kept tugging insistently at my shirt, moving to jerk at my arm when I kept trying to ignore it. It kept yanking me back further and further, tugging me away from the things that make me happy.

I don't dance anymore. My sketch book collects dust on my desk along with my journal. I feel their betrayed gazes every time I step foot into my room. Not even singing along to BigBang with my boyfriend sparks my interest. I've already drifted so far out to sea. I'm on Mental Illness Island, population Jeon Jungkook. Just when I'm doing well, the ferry comes back to cast me away to this dreadful cold island. As I lay here, I feel the push and pull of the surf on my legs.

Light footsteps vibrate through the floor until they stop near my head. I look up through my bangs to see my boyfriend standing over me, the hood of my jacket cutting his face from my view. I lower the volume on my phone just enough to be able to hear him sigh. He moves to stand over me, feet framing my hips and I can see him better. Baby-blue boxers, black long-sleeve shirt. Bedhead, tired eyes, lips in their natural pout, arms crossed.

"What's wrong, Jungkook?" Gentle. His voice is so gentle and it coaxes the tears desperately trying to fall. "Oh, baby." He lays down against me, thighs framing my sides as his hand rests on my chest, hair brushing against my jaw and neck. He places kisses wherever he can and I bury my face in his hair because he is all I need. He is the reason I even try to be happy. He is my happiness.

It takes a while for my cries to stop echoing through the still kitchen. When I finally stop crying, he lifts up and sits on my stomach, leaning over me to wipe my wet cheeks with his small, soft hands. Then his lips are on mine; innocent and sweet and exactly what a breath of fresh spring air feels like. It's just what I need to be able to smile when he pulls away, grinning as he gazes down at me. "There's that bunny smile."

One more peck and he returns to his former position, taking one of my ear buds for himself as he closes his eyes and mindlessly soothes my arm. I breathe in the smell of his coconut-scented shampoo as I close my eyes as well, savoring this moment. One of my arms falls across his upper back while my other hand falls to his thigh. My fingers slip under the hem of his boxers; I just need to feel his warm skin under my fingertips. His weight on me grounds me - it keeps me here on Earth and away from Mental Illness Island. He truly is my rock that keeps me safe, keeps me human.

Two songs later and we're both dozing, but neither one of us dare to move. My back will scream at me tomorrow, but right now I don't care. I only care about this moment right here on the kitchen floor. And I wish I can stay in this moment forever. "Jimin," I mumble and he lets out a hum to let me know he's listening. "You know I love you, right?" The hand on my arm squeezes my bicep lovingly and his thighs squeeze my sides in a sort of body-hug. "And I love you. You can get through this, my baby. I just know it," he replies and I rub the bare skin of his thigh, tracing small hearts into the warm skin.

I place a kiss on his head as lovingly as I can, the arm across his back reaching up to caress the back of his neck like I know he likes. "Anything is possible with you by my side." And it's true. Without Park Jimin by my side, I feel lost. He is my guiding light.

We fall asleep there under the dim kitchen light, both of us dreaming of better days to come.