13: This Time

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It was nearly time for Jimin to sleep, yet he didn't want to. Something about it was unappealing, the thought of having to be in a single spot for so long. You could say that he was restless. 

He brushed the hair out of his face, tucking his covers and blankets over his legs. The pillow was waiting, calling his name, but he just couldn't begin to lie down and face his fate again.

Finally, something in his life felt too dramatic. He hadn't even had that many dreams, and they weren't all that bad, but he didn't want them anymore. His voice made him uncomfortable, plus there was the fact that he was sweating in the morning. That part wasn't bad, but then,he had to take a shower, and the water was unusually cold. This caused him to wear warmer clothing in the morning, but it became too hot in the afternoon. 

Basically, the whole thing was a slope; once he started sliding, he never stopped. Okay, maybe not never, but who could blame him? He didn't want to feel unpleasant for the whole day, or even better, the whole week. Where would the end of the hill be, what if it went on for years?

God, he didn't know what he wanted anymore. Was it Jeongguk? Was it to become a better person? Was it both things?

He put a hand to his forehead, glancing at the clock. It was very early in the morning. It was too early to start anything, but also too late to be up. He'd recognized this long ago, remembering that he had a class the next day. Plus, he'd been missing his trips to the dance studio quite frequently. Before, in high school, he pulled this same maneuver, failing to wake up the next day. He automatically failed his exam.

Not a smart move on his part.

So, hesitantly, he succumbed to his exhaustion, falling asleep within minutes.

★★★

Once Jimin stood up, he already knew where he was. Already knew what he was wearing, knew who would be there, who would arrive, possibly what could happen, what could not happen, and what he would try to avoid.

As soon as he got up, he tried to run. He managed to make it down the road, around the corner and onto another street; one that he recognized. Hopefully, he could run and find someone to tell them his situation. But no, he didn't find anyone around that corner, or the other corner, and he ended up back where he started, panting. He was sweaty, hoping that he wouldn't be when he woke up later.

Then again, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. That made him angry.

He stood up, watching the clouds dance. Jimin frowned, thinking about how those damn clouds were making fun of him. It was quite obvious with the way that they looked so perky. For a short while, he considered that maybe he was just exaggerating. But then again, this was his head, right?

Wait, if this was his head, then why was the boy there? Couldn't he just remove him with the flick of his hand? Did he want the boy to be there?

No, that was not in the question. He would exclude that thought, because it was obviously not true, right? Right. It wasn't true.

Jeongguk was his boyfriend, and he was Jeongguk's boyfriend. They were practically tethered together by an invisible rope. Not like he minded. Did he mind? He could exclude that thought, too. Besides, he was in the middle of trying to exclude another thought from his head, the man.

For a split second, he could see Jeongguk appear. The boy looked so terrified; unaware of the situation. He looked at Jimin with those eyes—the eyes that held the world in them. The older boy failed to return that look.

Jimin watched him appear again and again, then eventually flicker away, only to be replaced with the other thought. The boy, the man, the hooded figure, and his hate, whatever he felt like calling him. He just couldn't call him anything else.

Because his voice refused to tell him his name. Anything about him. Even his name.

That made all the reason to hate them even more. He absolutely despised these thoughts. They made him question his relationship, his future, his friends, his choices. He knew they shouldn't, but they did. And he knew that if he ever met this man in real life, he would give him a swift slap across the face.

Or maybe not. It depended how he felt that particular day.

Jimin stomped toward the man, the first time he actually did so with his own limbs. His eyes were flaming, and if looks could kill, this guy would be dead. He didn't have the energy to deal with anyone else's bullshit. Or even his own, for that matter.

"Who are you?" he spat angrily, running a hand through his wildly tousled hair. The boy was thinking; Jimin could tell because he wasn't in the moment. He looked oddly similar when he was thinking. Strange that he didn't know who he was.

"Funny you ask that, I don't even know myself." The other laughed, flicking a piece of brown hair off his forehead.

Believe it or not, Jimin's jaw hit the floor. He didn't expect the man to talk, since he hadn't made the effort to before. His arms dropped limp to his sides, watching as the boy laughed again in amusement. It was nice; watching the man actually able to move. Before, he was standing as still as a statue, boring his dead eyes into the nearest thing which frequently happened to be the ground.

After finishing his quiet laughing fit, the man continued. "Well, I guess I am a man, and I am in your head," He said, thoughtfully stroking his chin.

"Wait," Jimin interrupted, eyebrows knitting together. He blinked his eyes several times to be sure of what he was saying. This man could do anything with this information. "Are you just in my head?"

"I don't know, am I? Think about it." With a small smirk plastered on his face, he disintegrated.

Jimin screamed in frustration. He fell to his knees with a loud thud, pounding his fists into the concrete until his knuckles were bruised. He looked up to the sky, eyes ablaze. He wanted to squeeze something, to throw a rock up, but he couldn't find anything to throw out of anger. 

He had known that he would try, in the back of his mind, so he supposed that this other part of his mind had been prepared for that.

"Leave me alone!" he cried out, tears running their ugly, dirty streaks down his cheeks. With each new one came a burning sensation down, dripping below his chin. He felt overly frustrated, he felt like pounding his fists into the concrete. 

If he had a little more energy to deal with this, then he might've been more accepting of his situation and the possibility that maybe it was helping him. But he didn't have that capability with the amount of exhaustion pouring out of him. 

This time, he felt like wiping that stupid smirk off the other boy's face. 

No, that demon. The literal demon who disguised themself like a human to bother the everlasting hell out of him for no apparent reason. 

Clearly, he wasn't getting over it any time soon.

★★★

a/n: hello, lovely reader~

thank you for 400+ reads!

i really appreciate all the love and support hehe

i purple you all 💜

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