My sweet little Jinnie

How much it hurts

Before when we kissed you'd be caught in a trance, paralyzed beyond belief.

And now it's worth nothing.

When I used to tell you I love you, your eyes used speak to me, conveying messages that couldn't be put into words, words that your pretty mouth couldn't form with a mere whisper. And now you stay quite, your eyes are dim, your mouth a frown.

It was you who used to insist to be together, to stay by my side until the very end. You convinced me with soothing words, a beautiful lullaby, and like a fool I fell for your trap, and you persuaded me to take a step I couldn't dare to imagine very taking.

It was you who was my greatest mistake, my greatest failure.

God Damnit

I wish we never met.

You introduced me to a concept called love, a foreign feeling that I never had the pleasure of knowing. And although it lasted for a fleeting moment I can't get the feeling of your touches, the smell of your cologne, the taste of your skin off my mind. It holds me down, fogs my brain, and lets me drown in an endless sea of regret. You lied.

But now that I think about it, we mostly spent our time locked away in the bathroom, balling our eyes out, screaming bloody murder, and saying "I'm sorry" repeatedly over and over again, a broken record that was never out to an end.

You were my greatest fear.

I hate ever meeting you.

You don't understand how much it hurts, knowing your gaze of love isn't directed at me anymore. That another man has stolen your heart.

You don't understand how much it hurts knowing we can never fix what we had, I lost you as a lover, and now as a friend too.

You don't understand how much it hurts knowing I was only ever used as a toy. Something to let your frustrations out on and used to make him jealous.

What do you really think of me?

Yoongi stares at his left hand, the delicate silver band resting innocently on his ring finger, shining dimly under the fluorescent lights of the living room.

Across the room Jimin grins softly, his eyes holding that familiar sweetness in his gaze as he stares adoringly at the younger boy with wide doe eyes, a rose plump mouth, and wide delicate shoulders that stretched on for miles.

His empty left hand resting over thin crooked fingers.

It was my own fault for falling in love with a clueless boy, when our love was so small and soft to the touch.

I'm in love with a boy who's in love with my brother.

I'm married to the boy my brother loves...