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"Joon-ah," Yoongi sighs desperately, "Joon-ah, its been two weeks. Please just do...something."

Something. The king wanted to laugh. He probably would, if other things didn't occupy his mind at the moment.

Like the constant replay of seeing Seokjin there, laying in that deep hole one moment, ordering him to leave. And in the next seeing rubble and large chunks of debris where Seokjin once was. Knowing very well that no one can survive being crushed by so many pounds of concrete and metal.

Namjoon hadn't left his room in those two weeks. He'd get up and shower, yes, but only because he couldn't get use to the stench.  

Currently, the king laid on his bed, arm covering his face, other arm just dangling on the side of the bed. He has no tears left to cry, he had shed them all the first week.

The attack on the stadium had all been a distraction. When they made it back to the palace, ex-general Han was missing. The royal queen dowager was untouched, the rebels had just left like that.

A distraction. Seokjin had died because of a damn distraction.

Regret had hit Namjoon so hard in that moment. Why had he listened to Jin? Why couldn't he have just gone down a gotten him? If he had done it sooner then he would've been able to pull him up on time. Yoongi would have found him eventually, and he could've just taken Jimin while Namjoon focused on Jin.

There had been so many things he could've done to prevent this.

The body still hasn't been found. Even two weeks later and Namjoon still pays for a search team to look around the debris. This gave the king a bit of hope and although the people around him were insisting that he hold a funeral, he refuses to.

"You need to get up, Joon," Yoongi tries again. "The public is waiting for your top ten. I know you're still grieving but—"

"Hyung," Namjoon grumbles. "Shut up." He was so tired of everyone telling him what to do, telling him what he should do and how he should do it.

Did people not understand that he was just falling apart? That he felt like he was dying? That he was having a internal battle with grief and was losing? 

With the way he was, there were no words could possibly make him feel better. People just didn't understand that he could just pick himself up from this and act as if nothing happened.

He felt as if he was suffocating. As if the world had just ripped his heart out and wanted him to keep on living. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to go to a stupid press conference. He had no motivation for anything at the moment, nor did he feel like he ever would.

He just...he just wanted his Jinnie.  

Sometimes, he'll just close his eyes and recall the small details he can of the other. He did almost every time he closed his eyes.

The clear skin, the plump lips, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles. The way his hands were so tiny in his. And he'd hear someone cleaning the windows and would recall his laugh. The pain in his chest erupting once more and bringing to his mind that one beautiful name that had once made him smile like a fool.

Seokjin.

Quietly sobbing had now become sort of a pastime for Joon. It was all he ever did these past two weeks. You'd think he was stronger than this, having been shown how to hold in his emotions since he was young.

Turns out he was much weaker than he thought.

Or perhaps all those years of restraining his emotions had finally caught up to him.

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