LETTERS TO REALITY SEQUEL ✓

you got here first (bonus 2)

THE PAST

will you stay this time?

//

Jimin walks through the glossy walls of the airport, ringed hands tucked neatly into his trouser pockets. his eyes stay lowered, one hand pulling along his small, perfect suitcase-- this same suitcase has become his best friend in multiple, dreamy countries where people were too close yet too distant. it holds everything minimal and materialistic, he can't let go of it and reduce himself to a simple backpack.

did he go backpacking? he's not sure, he thinks as he adjusts the leather satchel holding his essentials, on his back. he walks slower now, chestnut eyes hiding behind a pair of shady sunglasses he brought from the echoing city of New York-- the same rowdy sounds still ring in his ears. in the same way Japan, Morocco, England, Australia, Spain and Turkey do. all the same sounds but all so different.

when he stops in his tracks to look around and check the directions attached to the ceiling to see where he's heading, he feels his head fade. the urge to pick a random flight, march up to the reception desk and buy a plane ticket is tingling through his fingertips.

he's been at this airport several times yet... he feels nothing towards it. it makes him want to run away even more. he'd much rather be in a place that feels too familiar in the present moment. he doesn't know anyone here yet he feels like he does and he hates it.

the boy has lived in the past far too much, he's had enough of that now. when he started to live in the present, that's when shit started to change. he needed shit to change and it did, finally.

he doesn't glance around, biting at the edge of his bottom lip. he recognises the small pit of anxiety in his stomach— it's not a nice feeling. he stares ahead, blankly glancing at the arrows. the rushing, diverse people all blend into one until an oblivious, single person ruins all of that.

this person doesn't blend, wouldn't dare to.

Jimin feels his heart stop beating in his chest. all of the old shit returns in that moment and even the frozen butterflies are fluttering again. he stares from behind his dusky sunglasses, eyes completely focused-- the same way they were focused all these months, at the sight of a museum, an animal and a painting. she's neither of them, she's here but so incredibly humane that he shudders.

he licks over the slight rip in his bottom lip, watching the familiar woman who hasn't seen him yet. he should leave but he asked. his hand grips his suitcase as he presses his hand firmly against his lower stomach-- stop, you ran away from this for a reason.

does time heal all? no, he knows that, he thinks back to the lonely grave he was planning on first visiting.

eventually, she spots him.

Jimin makes the move to remove his sunglasses. his eyes blink due to the furious light, adjusting to how he is seeing the world now. a world with her.

he didn't want to smile, he really didn't want to smile. but fuck, his lips turned and that was it.

"Jimin," he sees her say under her breath first as she stumbles to meet him halfway. "hi!" she greets excitedly, still not close but her voice pricks his ears.

the young man can't move, he knows he should be walking ahead to meet her, to hold her and say hello to her like he's done before. just like they used to in school corridors and lonely windowsills. but he just wants to look, look for a long time. he wants to hear her shout his name over and over again, even though he knows he doesn't deserve that either. he can't believe he asked if she could pick him up— the nerve.