8:41 p.m.

Jimin swung the apartment door open after a tauntingly slow train ride home from the city and a day out with himself. He did as he always does upon homecoming: toss his keys into the bowl, remove his scarf, check for mail, think of Yoongi, think of Taehyung.

In fact, the only reason he had gone out in the first place was to clear his head of the two. It did help a bit, though temporarily, to breathe new air and explore. But as soon as he entered his living room, the migraine-inducing thoughts attacked him with the force and quickness of a tsunami.

There he was. The boy named Taehyung, who sat on the living room windowsill like it was nothing at all to gaze at the clear and starry night sky. The moon was their only source of luminescence. Everything looked beautiful under its light. At least it appeared that way.

For some reason, Jimin could only stand there-- feet rooted to the doorway, hand cemented to the knob. He could only watch as the boy turned his head to him, glossy black eyes under the light of the moon. He could only breathe as a tear rolled down Taehyung's cheek.

"I was so happy you took me out the other night Jimin. We haven't been out in months."

Jimin took a step forward, "Baby, you know that we were--"

"But it's been worse before. You've been afraid to be seen in public with me for years."

He shut the door behind him and sighed.

"Don't start this again, Tae. I'm not in the mood."

"Well, I am!"

Taehyung was on his feet now. His breathing was choppy and erratic. It was quite obvious now that he'd done more than a little crying. And so, for the second time that week, Jimin's problems were showing their ugly heads.

"I'm not doing it!" He retaliated, throwing his jacket onto the couch.

"You're pussy!"

"If being pussy means I get to keep my family and you, then fine, I'll be pussy!"

"What about marriage? What about when your eomma and appa start asking, where-where their grand kids are? Do you ever stop to think about how fucking stupid it is to keep this from the people you love? They're going to find out! They're gonna find out anyway!"

"I'm just not ready to do it yet! I'm not ready!"

" 'I'm not ready. I'll do it later. Soon, Taehyung.' " He mocked, snorting at how ridiculous the words sounded, "That's all I hear from you nowadays. All these excuses and bullshit you feed me are just lies to buy more of my time. I used to wonder if I even matter to you at all. But this isn't about me anymore. It's beyond that now."

And Taehyung was right. But Jimin was too proud so all he did was throw himself onto the couch in reply.

"You're a fucking waste of my time. I deserve more than—"

"I know what you deserve, Taehyung."

"You don't even try."

"You make me hate myself. I love you so much I can't stand looking at you because you never did anything wrong. And I know I made you cry. I know you hate loving me too. But I—"

"What about me? When do you end and I begin? When will you realize I'm not just here to be a pawn or a body? I have my own heart. You hurt me so much. And all you have to say is that you know you did that, but you're sorry, and you're not even sorry that you've hurt me— you're sorry that you know what you're doing and won't do better. Why do you expect me to be sorry for having my own needs? Why do you refuse to let me feel loved by you?"

"You don't love me."

"You don't love you. I always have. You don't love me."

"It's not about you!"

"It was never about me! It was about us!"

"Do you hear yourself right now?! You're talking yourself in circles!"

"I'm tired of this shit."

"I'm tired of you!"

"I'm tired of you too! Maybe we should--"

Jimin's entire body tensed. His eyes went to Taehyung, pleading, praying, hoping that he wouldn't say it.

".. And I think we should..--"

Taehyung looked up at the moon with his reddened eyes and heavy heart, "I think it's best if we just give up. We want different things. It's time to just admit it to ourselves and let us go while we still haven't destroyed one another."

"No. You can't go." Jimin scoffed, "You just came back! You can't disappear and leave me here to feel like shit, you can't blame me!"

"I can't blame you for that, Jimin. It's human to feel like you can't move when you're afraid. But I did it for you."

He was angry that Taehyung could be so cool about things like this. It seemed that everyone was better at keeping their grace under pressure than he was.

"Taehyung." He called out to the boy as he walked into the bedroom, "Taehyung!"

The door shut.

Jimin sat down on the couch again, staring at the black TV screen and the black TV screen staring back at him. He rested his forearms on his thighs, drooped his head, and mind bleak except for one thought:

Don't fucking cry.

But thinking about not crying only seemed to make him cry harder than he would have if he never had that thought in the first place. He felt like his life with Taehyung would only go downhill from here. It was true. He was right. Then again, were they ever really at a good place to begin with?

Better together, his conscience murmured. Better together? It asked.

There was some shuffling going on behind the closed door. Artificial lighting peeked from under the door and mixed with  the glowing moonlight, pooling around him like a too-cool bath. The rolling of drawers and the inconsistent footsteps. Here it was. All these years of fighting and fighting to survive for him to just let it die. Here it was. The end of an era on a regular Sunday night.

It was the music of Taehyung packing his bags. A wonderfully bitter tune indeed. A death of sorts.

And though he could not stand it, he didn't want it to be over. Because when that stupid lullaby came to a close, Taehyung would have to go. Jimin didn't want that. He would do almost anything to stall or stop him from leaving again. The pain was so immense it was numbing and-- he was so out of touch and that all he could think to do was try and sleep.

The door opened. Jimin heard the soles of his oxfords padding over wood flooring.

"Hey."

"What?"

Jimin didn't think this through. He kind of just opened his mouth and hoped for the best, to be quite honest. He had to force himself to make eye contact. So much had happened within these last ten minutes.

Taehyung was waiting.

"Where will you stay?"

Jimin was improvising.

"Just stay here for the night at least -- or until you find a place, Taehyung."

He could only estimate the seconds he had left with him. Twenty? Sixty? Five?

"I'll go to my friend's house. She doesn't live far from here." The boy sighed. He ran his hand through his hair, and Jimin always loved it when he did that, even now. Something so small made this all the more difficult.

"And Jimin?"

He lifted his drooping head to look at Taehyung for the last time in a while.

"You can't always have it both ways."

Taehyung was away now.

So Jimin went up to his pretty, white bookshelf.

He picked up that photograph. The one of them trick-or-treating -- even though they were too old for it. The one of a happier time, with the smiling and laughing and even the coordinated costumes. Jimin remembered the night so vividly, now.

He looked at it under the moonlight for a long time, running his fingers over the smooth, cool glass of the frame.

Sometimes comforting to hold; this time, better to throw at the wall.