A Story For The Hopeless

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Taehyung opened the door, strolling into the bedroom completely naked with steam twirling up from his body and his shoulders littered with countless water droplets.

He yawned as he scratched his butt, looking at Jimin and I with a raised brow and a question mark hanging above his head.

"Was' goin' on?" He asked groggily, frowning deeply. "Are you guys having sex without me?"

For a moment it felt like my soul had been extracted from my body, but despite the groundskeeper completely obliterating the moment I tried to share with Jimin, he still made my lips curl up as always.

Jimin's heart seemed to warm as well, but his smile didn't quite make it to his eyes, and he moved away from underneath me when my chance to save us both had passed.

"We wouldn't dare Taehyung," Jimin said, leaving the bed with my pocket watch tightly clutched in his hand.

I snapped my head towards Taehyung, who's lips parted before he even planned to speak. "You... you never call me by my name," he said, ending his last few words in a nervous chuckle as if Jimin had told us a joke he didn't understand.

Jimin hummed, drifting towards his desk to store away my heart. "Things change," he said stoicly, throwing my most prized possession into his drawer as if it were insignificant.

I heard myself speaking as the boy said the same words I had told Taehyung only a few days ago. I sat drooped on the bed, sinking into my thoughts.

This was supposed to be the same man who told me years ago that changing wasn't something he tried to do very often. The same man who loved reading fairy tales and myths and legends and used books to escape the world.

I digged my fingers into the matrass, though my chest was no longer ambushed my flashes of pain.

I had to find a way to face the fact that my master wasn't the same man he was four years ago, and I knew that I had to be honest, and say that neither was I.

--

My master took the glass of water I gave him with trembling hands, sitting sweaty and respiring on the bed as Taehyung made him lean against his shoulder.

It was dark in the bedroom, apart from the candle I had lit after hearing Jimin whimper and speak in his sleep, the signs of him having a nightmare something that hadn't woken me up for a long time.

Taehyung rubbed up and down Jimin's back, kissing the top of his head as he whispered comforting messages into his ear.

The man took shuddering breaths, staring at nothing without blinking as if his mind was far away.

"Want to talk about it?" I asked against better knowing, since Jimin had never, not once in four years, wished to share with me the contents of the nightmares that sometimes haunted his nights.

The boy shook his head as I had expected and wrapped his arms around Taehyung as if the man was a giant stuffed animal.

"I won't do it..." He whispered, burying his face in the crook of Taehyung's neck like a frightened child in need of comforting.

"You won't do what?" I asked, my look of confusion quickly copied onto Taehyung's face.

"I won't go to Italy," Jimin muttered under his breath, hiding himself against Taehyung's chest. "I will stay here."

Both Taehyung and I dropped our jaws as we tried not to lose our minds.

"Mój aniol? Are you serious?" Taehyung asked, instantly breaking into a smile that brightened the room as if it were daytime.

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 | VMINKOOK✔Where stories live. Discover now