Jungkook stood outside their shared room, his fingers hesitating on the doorknob. He had been replaying the conversation in his head, trying to find the right words, the right approach. He knew Jimin—knew how stubborn he could be, how deeply he buried his struggles when he didn’t want to be a burden.

But Jungkook also knew he couldn’t stand by and watch Jimin drown in his own thoughts. Not when he could see him slipping, see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his once-bright presence now felt dimmed. 

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook pushed open the door. 

Jimin was standing in front of the mirror. Shirtless, his hands pressed against his stomach, fingers digging into his skin like he was searching for something—proof of what his mind was telling him. His eyes were filled with something Jungkook couldn’t stand to see on him.

Disgust. 

Jungkook’s chest tightened. 

“Jimin.” 

The older flinched, his head snapping up as if caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He quickly dropped his hands, reaching for the oversized hoodie lying on the bed and pulling it over his frame in one swift motion. 

“Hey,” Jimin said, his voice light, forced.

Jungkook took a slow step forward. “Hyung…” His voice was soft, cautious. “Can we talk?” 

Jimin turned away, fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. “About what?” 

Jungkook sighed. “You know what.” 

A tense silence settled between them.

Jimin’s fingers stilled. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. Then after a pause, “I’m fine, Jungkook.” 

“No, you’re not,” Jungkook said firmly. He stepped closer, and Jimin still didn’t look at him. “You’ve been going to the gym in the middle of the night. You’re barely eating. You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice softened. “Jimin, I see you. I see the way you look at yourself. The way you… flinch when you catch your reflection.” 

Jimin’s breath hitched, but he kept his head down. 

Jungkook’s heart ached. He reached out, gently taking Jimin’s hands in his. “Hyung,” he whispered, squeezing his fingers. “Talk to me.” 

Jimin finally looked up. His eyes were glassy, his lower lip trembling just slightly.

“I just…” He swallowed hard, and Jungkook could see the walls cracking, the exhaustion creeping through the gaps. “I don’t like what I see, Kook.” 

Jungkook’s grip tightened. “Why?” 

Jimin let out a shaky breath.

“Because… I look fat.”

The word came out barely above a whisper, like he was ashamed to say it out loud. His hands curled into fists in Jungkook’s hold. “I feel disgusting. Every time I look in the mirror, I see—” His voice broke. “I see the kid I used to be. The one people made fun of. The one I worked so hard to change. And now… I feel like I’m back there again.” 

Jungkook felt his chest squeeze painfully. He wanted to reach inside Jimin’s mind and pull out every cruel thought, every insecurity, and destroy them. 

“Jimin,” he said gently, “you are not that kid anymore.” He brought Jimin’s hand to his chest, pressing it over his heart. “You have grown, hyung. You have worked so hard, and not just on your body—on your mind, your talent, your dreams. You are so much more than what you see in the mirror.” 

Jimin’s breath stuttered. “But I—” 

“No,” Jungkook cut him off softly, shaking his head. “You don’t have to prove anything. Not to anyone. Not even to yourself.” His thumb rubbed soothing circles over Jimin’s knuckles.

Jimin closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek. 

"When I look at you,” Jungkook continued, his voice soft but firm, “I see someone who lights up every room he walks into. Someone whose laugh is my favorite sound in the world. I see the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about things you love, the way you scrunch your nose when you’re focused."

Jungkook reached out, gently wiping it away. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love every little bit of you from the tip of your toes to the strands of your hair.” He swallowed, his voice thick with emotion. “And it breaks my heart to see you like this, bub. To know that you’re hurting and I didn’t see it sooner.” 

Jimin let out a soft, broken sound, and before Jungkook could react, he was being pulled into a tight embrace. Jimin clung to him like he was afraid to let go, his body shaking with silent sobs. 

Jungkook held him just as tightly, his hands running up and down Jimin’s back, grounding him. “I’ve got you,” he murmured into his hair. “I’ve always got you.” 

Minutes passed, the room silent except for Jimin’s quiet sniffles. Slowly, his breathing evened out, his grip on Jungkook loosening just a little. 

Jungkook pulled back slightly, cupping Jimin’s face. “Will you let me help you?” he asked gently. “We don’t have to fix everything tonight. But… can we try? Together?” 

Jimin stared at him, his eyes searching Jungkook’s face like he was trying to find something. Then, with a small, shaky nod, he whispered, “Okay.” 

Jungkook smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Jimin’s forehead. “Okay,” he echoed, his heart swelling with relief. 

Jimin may not fully believe him yet, may not see himself the way Jungkook did, but that was okay. 

Because Jungkook would remind him. Would let Jimin view himself through his eyes. Every single day.

The End