Seokjin.

"Help! Help! Someone help!"

"We are in between floors, no one is going to hear you, or your gonna need to try a lot harder than that."

"No shit." The irritated reply smoothly rolls off my lips, and his nonchalant attitude just pisses me off more. I don't know what's worse, that I am stuck in an elevator with him, or that he doesn't care that we are going to plummet to our deaths any moment from now. After finding out we were actually stuck in this crumped space, Namjoon had tried the door with his huge muscles, but had quickly given up calling the task useless. He had resorted to his phone, and mine, but soon enough we both realized the signal wasn't even enough to send a text.

Just more of our dumb luck.

Panicked, I tried calling for help physically, but we also found out we were in between floors, and the phone situated for emergency, doesn't exactly work. God, I can't believe I paid people to work on this. Twice. I am getting my money back, or someone is getting sued.

"Help. Anyone? Hello?" Fuck, this isn't how I thought I would go, so frightened and feeling so small. Without a final word to my friends and family, my son...

The thought makes me sick, and although I don't want to be pessimistic, there is a real chance we are going to be torn flesh any moment from now.

"We are not going to die." Namjoon speaks from where he is leaning onto the mirror. He has taken off his coat, now thrown out on the floor, and he has his shirt buttons undone halfway, his impressive chest muscles showing from the open fabric.

I look way.

"Oh yeah, how do you know? " I counter, going back to my worries.

"I watch a lot of movies. Someone is going to find us, and we'll go through the hatch on the roof or something. Or maybe if you want to Charlize Theron out of here, then we can climb our way out." He amuses, obviously joking, which still baffles, given the situation. I know deep down he is trying to lighten the mood and keep me from my thoughts, but I just can't right now, not with us dangling in the air, and the thought of my son and my fiance being on their own ringing at the back of my head.

"Glad to hear you bet our lives based on a film you saw." I reply, getting back to the task - which is asking for help. We've been stuck hear for thirty minutes or so, which by the way has felt like hours, and continue to with the thought of us being at risk of death.

I feel Namjoon's eyes on me, scrutinizing, and searching, and all of it just makes me want to teleport out of here, out of his sight and his knowing gaze. "Help!" I continue to cry, getting desperate, and getting in my head, the emotions are starting to kick in, and the reality of it is starting to daunt.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Jin."

"What?" I scream, turning around at his persistent calling, barely holding my tears at bay. "Your claustrophobic, if you continue to panic, this space with only get smaller." He states in observation, knowing and in memory. It's been seven years yet he remembers that about me, so clearly yet I only mentioned it once, back then. Nonetheless, the irritation is there, the thought of him still knowing so much about me.

"Oh what do you know?" I reply, feeling provoked, yanking at my tie, I take off my coat as well, feeling the heat in this space progressively rise, mentally perhaps, but still. "Some things don't change about a person. Years down and you can still read it from them like an open book." It's just his words, the things he says and how he says them. He just leaves me thinking twice whenever they sink, and the reflection always comes out in many ways other than what he means. I hate that like before, his eyes still hold that power, that weird ability to make me want to spill every last thought, every last word, secret...

"This is all your fault." I accuse suddenly, unable to keep his gaze. My feet meets the metal again, and like a little child, I wince in reminder of the pain, learning it hits back, with just as much vigour to match my anger.

Namjoon doesn't budge.

"It's my fault you have a faulty elevator. Private elevator?" Ok, the last part has absolutely nothing to do with this, but yeah, "you just had to follow me in here, look what you did?" I rebut, feeling tense when he finally pushes off the wall, his earlier stoic face, narrowing into confusion. "I still don't get why I am responsible for us getting stuck in here, I just wanted to talk." Oh, here we go again we with talk.

"It's all you ever want, to talk -"

"- Can you blame me?" He cuts off, taking a step closer in the cubicle, which results into him being only a few centimeters away. "-Can you blame me for wanting to talk to you, your just... here, your this close and I can't even get a word in about us, after everything." He breathes, struggling, and motioning with his hands, and it's clear as day the emotions that are tearing at him as well, I've been pushing us, over these past few weeks, with the dodging and the attitude, and although I know this was bound to happen soon, he has no right to react that way, like he's been wronged, and hurt.

"Yeah, well that everything you talk about is in the past, we are past that and I refuse to go back with you, not ever, I've moved on and I am not looking for anything from there." I state back, determined, but he only scoffs, unshaken. "If it's the past then why are you so defensive, why are you so protective, so scared of revisiting. If you've moved on you wouldn't have so much a trouble about talking to me, or at least listening to what I have to say. What are you hiding, what are you so scared of?"

I don't like his tone, or the challenge in it, the questioning glint in his eyes that always gets its way, answers per say. I don't have to do this, to give him any explanation whatsoever about my reasons, they are mine, and they remain that way. "I am not doing this with you." I reply, stepping from behind the mirror wall that I was standing, to go back to the door, away from his suffocating gaze.

"Help, somebody help." I go back to hitting the door, this time a little harder than before, angry, angry at everything, at him mostly. The faster I get out of here, the less things I have to hear, or deal with for that matter. "Anyone, he -" I try again, but Namjoon doesn't let me finish as he grabs me by the arm, grip-y, but somehow still gentle as he maneuvers me around, his hand coming smoothly around my waist, body pressing to mine tightly in a hold.

"I just want to talk, won't you at least allow me to explain."

My hands find refuge in his chest, completely unintentional, and my eyes widen at the position, the audacity of him to even do this. My face is incredibly close to his, so up close it's like I am seeing him for the first time. The anger, the fear, the pain, but the gentleness in the same, the softness, and the amiable look in his eyes. This is the Namjoon I know, the one I haven't seen in years the same man I fell in love with, the one I am currently in his arms.

The feeling is indescribable, unimaginable, it feels so familiar, so personal and intimate, and I know it so well, I know what it's like to be in his arms, to be this close and joined to him, I know what it's like to be with him, to feel his warmth and to see every detail of his face this clearly. I know him, Namjoon.

I can barely hold myself as my eyes skim his face, every detail, every mark, every mole and every fiber that I remember. I can barely hold myself as the familiarity of the situation hits me, the thoughts about how similar this seems to the last time, the time he had left me right after holding me this close, and every other day that I had dreamt after, about him coming back to hold me this way.

He never did, he never came back.

It all hits me at once, the anger and the reality. I am no longer that person, I am no longer that foolish and gullible, I am not that boy anymore, and most of all I've moved on, I have a new life now, a fiance, I am getting married...

I push off Namjoon suddenly, just in time to prevent myself from landing a slap on his face. His got some boldness, some nerve to be doing this.

"What do you think your doing Namjoon, you don't just come around and make these demands, or requests. You can't force me to talk to you, you lost that right, you lost it when you left." My voice raises but shakes as I scream at him, every emotion suddenly raking through me, taking me apart. Years worth of it is coming undone, he's peeling back every wound I've sealed, and all for what, for a talk? So he can see me break again? Well here it goes and I hope he is happy with it.

"You left me, and you don't have any right whatsoever to come around to demand my time, you left." Somehow his face manages to fall further, eyes narrowing as he leans back on his posture, almost tiredly.

"Is that what you believe?" He questions incredulously, low but serious, I don't get what he means. "No really, is that what you believe happened? That I just woke up one day and I decided I didn't want us anymore, that I just walked out on you like that. Is that what's truly in your heart?" He sounds unbelieving. Over the years I've questioned everything, went back to every last detail but I always fallen short, I've always wondered how someone could just wake up like he did and just leave and disappear in the same, and for the longest time I felt like he had a reason, I liked to think he did, but over time I had to accept that he left, and that I was never going to get an explanation, if there was one to even begin with.

"What does it matter what I believe, you still left, without anything, an explanation, an answer, or anything. You just left me out to rot with all the questions, you left, regardless of the reason." I repeat, getting angrier and at the verge of tears and a screaming match as he shakes is head in disagreement.

"I didn't leave you." He insists and it makes my blood boil, this is pointless if he is never going to agree. It's like his version of events is different from mine, like he has quite distinctive memories of how it happened. I was there, I remember how it happened.

"You took that money and you ran..." I remind him, stepping closer, a sneer threatening to come from me as I eye up and down. "...at least it did something for you."

"Don't you insult me like that." He growls in response, gaze hardening as he steps threateningly close, and although I know he would never hurt me, I am so scared of the look in his eyes right now, the rawness of emotions that flicker from him, crude and unidentifiable.

"I would have never -"

"Yes you did, you traded me and you for that, you sold us off for those millions." I scream at him, a finger finding it's way to his chest to poke him. He wants to talk, well there is what I think, there is what I've lived with for all this years. "You sold us for money." I cry, but he rebuts immediately, shushing me up.

"I didn't have a choice, it was either you or Taehyung dies." He chokes at the end of it, his face contorting into one of pain at the mere words. My ears ring after his sentence, and I hold my breath as the real weight of his words sink in. Taehyung dies?

"If I didn't take that money and leave I was risking my brother's life, he would have died....or at least I thought he would have." He speaks again but I am just frozen, taking in what he is trying to say. Why, how is that even possible, why would Taehyung have died?
Namjoon smiles sadly for a second, shaking his head as his eyes water. It's raw, and real, and I can tell because I've seen him cry before, I've seen him trying to hold back like this before and it all, despite everything, just makes my fingers itch to hold him, to bring him into my embrace and hold him tight, tight to comfort him, like we did back then.

"Your mother was real crafty, you know, just pure evil." I haven't heard from Miss Soojin in forever, but the reaction at the mention of her is the same for me and Namjoon. Despise, loath. "Taehyung was really sick, remember, and she managed to use it against me and my family. If I hadn't taken that money and left immediately, Taehyung might not be with us anymore." I've known Miss Soojin was malevolent, but even she couldn't go this far, right? She couldn't have held a little boys life as leverage, just so she could get her way, right?

My legs shake beneath me as I step back, tears falling as I look at Namjoon, that's not true, she couldn't have gone that far, Namjoon is making this up. Oh, I want him to be making it up, I want him to be lying, because what kind of torture would that be, and for Taehyung?

"Your lying?" I force out against my better judgement.

"What reason would I have to lie about this, why would I make this up with something as delicate as life, my brother's life?" He asks, falling calm and waiting on me. My head spins with what this could mean, what I haven't known and have continued to prevent Namjoon from telling me. His brother was sick, that I knew, but when I went to Gwanju that time to look for Namjoon he had chased me away, and my mind in turn had made up different reasons why he had even left to begin with. I couldn't bring myself to believe his brother was actually sick, that sick to been on the verge of death.

He must see the conflict on my face because he inches closer, his gaze locking into my teary ones, I am crying full on now, too many emotions tearing at me to allow me to process anything. "I couldn't contact you, not even through your friends. I couldn't speak to you or tell you why, lest I wanted to feel the wrath of your mother. She was watching, I know she was, my end and yours too, and I couldn't do anything other than ask Jackson to watch over you." He recalls on detail, his equally teary eyes narrowing as he looks at me, and right on instant, I realize....

"I never left you Jin, not on my will." He whispers, and a cry leaves my mouth, body turning away from him at his statement. What lie have I been living, what nightmare is this? Seven years I spent thinking he had just grown tired of me and left me, but here he was, suffering in my mother's hands, paining at Taehyung's condition. I have spent all these years  hating him for what he did to me, yet he had no fault, he had fallen prey right into Miss Soojin's hands, just at the right time to hurt both of us, and get her way at the same time.

I can't believe I didn't know this, or maybe I saw it but I was too busy hurting to acknowledge it. I had even gone to Gwanju. I even found out the amount of money they had traded but somehow I had refused to acknowledge what it was for other than the fact that he had taken it. I turned a blind eye and I refused to question that, refused believe any other thing. But at the same time, he should have told me, he could have at least found a way to reach me, a text, maybe a letter, or email, just anything so I could know.

"I couldn't reach you, not with the thought of what could have happened to Taehyung." He says, almost like he can read my thoughts. "But when I gathered up courage, I tried, I swear it I tried to reach you, you could ask Jeon." He sounds desperate but I am more confused as to what Jungkook had to do with this. I will my sobs down, and turn around to question him on that, but he is more focused on continuing. 

"I was foolish, Jin. I was young and I was so scared. I didn't want anything to happen to Tae, I could have never lived with that." I understand now, and although there are still so many things that are unanswered, I understand that he could have never chosen me at that moment, not over a dying Taehyung, and not under my mother's hand.

"I am sorry, about Taehyung." I mutter suddenly feeling guilty, all this I've blamed him for, yet he had a life and death situation on his hands, what kind of a person am I?

"I am sorry." I say this time, not able to conceal my cries, my voice shakes, and the tears fall freely. He however steps closer, close enough to hold me.  His hand comes up hesitantly to remove my hand from mouth where I had slapped it to conceal my wrenching sobs.

"Don't be, don't be sorry this was all my fault..." He says as he tilts my head up, my tear stained face, looking up him. "I should have known, Joon-ah." The words escape my mouth in a whisper, throat only clogging further at the sight of him crying as well. He is pained by this, still is up to now, and unlike me he hasn't been living the lie, he has faced every day of his life like this, burdened with the truth, and the thought of having been close to loosing his brother, courtesy of my mother.

Like a switch has been flipped inside of me, I see him in a different light now, I see the same Namjoon from back then, the same trustworthy man that I knew, the very man who would have never lied to me. I see it now, the persistence, the continued efforts and it's meaning. Despite everything that being with me caused him, he still went out of his way to search, to try to tell me the truth. To redeem me of all this hatred and spite that I have harboured for him and for the world. He was still thinking about me, about my welfare.

Namjoon fully cups my face and makes me look at him, his eyes lock onto mine and I let him, unable to resist his familiar touch, and the warmth of his hands. "I should have told you. That was my crime, and it cost us everything. I should have found a way to tell you and not leave you in the dark with all the questions. I shouldn't have let you go through that, and I am forever sorry, for having hurt you that much." My hands find their way to his wrist to sooth him as he tries to take blame, I hold him too, to remind him I am not mad at him.

His forehead joins with mine, almost like it's the most natural gesture between us, and I let him, recalling clearly the last time he had held me like this, this exact same way.

"I could have never left you, not in a million years..." He whispers lowly, just for me to hear it. "You were my everything, my every breath, every touch that I made, you were my world and I loved you with all of my heart."

"I still do." He whispers in conclusion after a second.