Unrequited || Jimin

2.7 | 편 지

L E T T E R

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When I was younger, I used to think you held all the stars in your eyes.

That the night sky was empty, and all the constellations were sprinkled along the lines of your cheekbones, dusted between your brows, etched on the curves of your lips.

Funny, how the stars have now dimmed.

I lost my mother when I was eleven, an age where memories had taken solid shape but not enough for me to feel things in all its enormity. She had went, quietly, looking like she was asleep. The hospital bed, too big for her body now, an expanse of ocean I couldn't seem to ever cross.

That was the only time I'd seen my dad cry. His shoulders had shaken so much, I was afraid he would cave in on himself like an avalanche.

I don't remember much of those days — only dimly-lit hallways, the smell of disinfectant. My mother smiling at me, her eyes clear as day, until one day she wasn't.

That was when I had learned: how quickly things can change, how sudden a heart can stop beating. A million different things can sift through within a fraction of a second; someone's breath stops, another's begins, and somewhere between all of that, nothing and yet, everything shifts.

And here it was again — everything changing between us the moment you found the love letter I'd penned to you in silence, in secrecy; the moment everything became irrevocable, inevitable.

We would never go back to the way we were before this day. Our footprints, sanded in time.

I saw expressions flit through your eyes, quicksilver flashes — I saw confusion, saw comprehension, saw you putting the pieces together. Counting all the time we'd spent, my bleeding broken heart between your fingers. All my words, inked on your skin now.

My hand was still frozen on the doorknob. I couldn't move, or speak, or do anything even if I tried. My throat twisted up, my heart dropping to the ground, all I could do was wait.

Like a colliding star.

"Is this...Byul-ah." You seemed dazed, lips parting and closing for a while, blinking hard at me. "Is this true? All — all this? You —"

"Jimin-ah." In my voice I could hear a rising panic, my stomach growing dread like thorns. You were staring at me like I was someone you didn't know, and everything in the room spun, and I wanted to cry. I wanted to curl up, and cry. "Are you...you should never have seen that."

A small crease formed between your eyebrows. Your gaze dropped down, skimming the ground; the tips of your ears are now peach-red. "I — I know. I'm so sorry, I was looking for your shoes to help you prepare, since — I mean, since we were already running late, and I found this in a shoebox..."

You hesitated, and looked up at me again, the honesty in your gaze stunning me quiet. "Byul-ah. I— I need to know. Do you...do love me in that way?"

I wanted to burn.

I wanted shame, I wanted the world to fall to my feet and never rise back up again. I wanted to lose time, lose space, lose all sense of self so I could vanish, so I wouldn't feel this burning heat eat up my chest in flames. I couldn't believe this was happening, and I felt a little hazy, ringing in my ears.

This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening — but it was.

But the image of you and Hae-mi appeared in my mind, and my breath was knocked right out of my lungs. How could you stand here, in front of me, holding a letter I'd never meant for you to read, asking if I love you? When you have her? When you didn't talk to me for weeks, because someone else took my place by your side?

You didn't deserve my honesty, and in that moment, I wanted you to feel the hurt I did; so I became wildfire, my gaze sharp as I looked back at your strained one.

"Does it matter if I do?" I didn't recognized myself, how bitter I sounded. I hated the way your face fell, I hated who I was becoming, but —

Anger. Heartbreak. Shame.

Youth brought with it all the big, loud, consuming feelings, and I accepted it with my arms wide open.

"Byul—"

"You have Hae-mi," I cut him off, my voice shaking, but I don't cry. I don't cry, even if I want to, because everything in me rose up dry. My anger, a knife's edge. "You haven't talked to me in weeks. You stopped taking the bus, you — you didn't even treat me so much as a friend, and — why, because you're what, with her now? Does that mean you have no room for me, or — or for other friends? So what does it matter if I do, Jimin-ah, if I do love you like that? Will my answer even change anything?"

You stayed silent, your eyes wide at my anger. I'm rarely mad, if ever, and you knew this was a big deal.

"I'll answer you." My breath heaved. My heart was aching, bruising like rotten fruit. I clenched my teeth, drawing in a sharp breath to steel myself. "I'll— I'll give you an answer, Jimin-ah, if you can tell me this: why were you angry at me, that...that day at the cafe? When I was with Jungkook?"

You were biting your lip now, your gaze frantic as hesitance began to color your features. Those soft lips, that slope of your nose I knew so well — none of those were familiar to me in this second, not one.

Seconds passed, and then a minute. You opened your mouth to speak, only to close it again, dread visible as day in your eyes.

Anger, red-hot like touching a burning kettle, flashed through me. Biting my lip so I won't scream at you, my whole body trembling and throat seizing up, I moved in static steps to pick up my bag for our trip.

"I'll see you at the beach, Jimin-ah."

And with that, I left you standing in the middle of my room, your guilty gaze trailing me as I walk out the door, something sad and heavy in my chest — this time, I was the one who'd left you first.

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A/N: thank you, inspiration gods! this chapter came out of nowhere, and i like it. i think you can start to see where byul has her codependent issues from losing her mother early, and how jimin reacts is honestly a pretty defining declaration of his feelings. this was angsty, but i think anger is a natural response when your pride is hurt, so don't go too hard on byul!

i hope you enjoyed reading this; leave some feedback for me if you have time! 🕊