Chapter  12; The Confession of My Tears

Don't leave me, don't leave me for her again...

───── ❝ 25/11/2015 ❞ ─────

Haru and Yoongi had left the Psychological Health Facility a couple of weeks ago. The two were busy unpacking in their homes, however, couldn't spend too much time together because Haru's parents were staying at her new apartment for the time being. 

He didn't want to bother his foster parents. And thus, Yoongi was alone.

It was a usual, wintery night as Yoongi strolled along the crowded streets of Seoul, illuminated by thousands of street lamps and tiny shops. Just as always, a cigarette wiggled between his shivering lips.

Because he couldn't write music since his mind was blank, he decided to take a walk. He strolled on and on without a destination. 

His eyes were glued to the ground with his hands were buried in his pockets, watching the way his Timberlands advanced forwards. At some point, he realised that he had found himself in a completely unfamiliar apartment complex.

Yoongi was about to leave, however, before he could, he noticed a woman. The woman was probably somewhere in her early fifties, wearing a comfortable pink, long-sleeved dress with on top only a black quilted gilet.

Vulnerable to the cold, the woman shivered. Nevertheless, she looked very unwilling to back inside (supposedly) her flower shop.

'Ma'am?' Yoongi walked up to her, speaking gently. The woman turned to look at him questioningly with a benign smile. 

'Aren't you cold?' he asked, his eyebrows knitting in concern. She chuckled, nodding slightly. 'I assume this is your shop, why don't you step in?'

'Well, I am actually waiting for my husband. I am also hoping for some customers. Our business hasn't been doing well this month...' 

The corners of the woman's lips turned upside down. 'I don't really want my husband to drag all the flowers inside by himself.'

'I'll help you,' Yoongi offered kindly since he had nothing better to do anyway. 'I'll buy flowers too, the most expensive ones.'

The woman laughed and raised her brows, almost as if challenging Yoongi.

'Are you sure? Our most expensive bouquet, we have more expensive ones but due to how the business has been doing lately they are unavailable, consists of thirty red roses and is about 50,000 won.'

He was nowhere near being rich, but from time to time, wasn't it okay to be a little careless with money? Plus, it was to help someone, and hence, Yoongi smiled and gave her a nod. 

And just in time, an old-looking, grubby truck pulled up in front of the shop.

'Jung-ah!' an old man stepped out of the car, waving at his wife with a radiant beam. His beam was contagious since Yoongi unconsciously beamed too at the sight of the man jogging up to the woman and engulfing her into a hug. 

'And who's this young man?' he pulled away, eyeing Yoongi curiously.

'Sir, your wife was out here freezing in the cold, so I couldn't help but walk up to her. I volunteered to help you out with the flowers and to buy some too,' explained Yoongi. 

'Alright then, come on, young man!' the man gestured Yoongi to start moving the freshly-arrived flowers from the car. 'I am Shim Yunsoo by the way,' said Mr Shim.

'Pleased to meet you.' Yoongi bowed as he carried one of the heaviest pots, somehow managing to hide the fact that he was about to trip. 'I am Min Yoongi.'

'Happy to meet you too, Yoongi,' Mr Shim said and walked up to his wife, 'Darling, prepare his bouquet, please,' he whispered to her, ushering her to finally enter the warm shop.

About thirty minutes later, all the new flowers were inside the shop, the old couple reassuring Yoongi that they'd rearrange them by themselves. 'Thank you so much, young man. Will you tell me your name, please?'

'Of course, I already told Mr Shim. It's Yoongi. Min Yoongi,' he answered as he slipped the necessary amount to pay for the flowers out of his leather wallet.

'Here are your flowers, Yoongi.' Mrs Shim twinkled as she handed him the huge bouquet of roses. He bowed gratefully before making his way out of the shop.

To his unluck, after taking only a few steps away from the shop, he felt small drops falling all over his exposed hands and face. 

'Fuck,' he muttered, his steps gradually becoming slower until he finally stopped walking. 'Exactly what I need in this freezing weather.'

Yoongi studied the bright flowers. The tears of the rain looked like little crystals.

A dry chuckle left his crusty lips. There was a trashcan beside him, so he took a few steps forwards, holding the flowers just above the black plastic bag inside the dustbin.

He did feel bad for buying the flowers from such kind people and then throwing them away, but they'd be useless by the time he reached his house. 

'NO!' someone shouted, startling the hell out of Yoongi.

He glanced around but saw nobody, so he tilted his head upwards, brushing his soaked bangs out of his face.

A woman was leaning on the railing, her right hand stuck outwards as if reaching out for the roses. Yoongi's brows crashed against each other, looking at her quizically as he took in her figure.

Even from afar, Yoongi noticed her plump and extremely jazzy red lips. So red that if she held the roses, the two would've matched to a T. 

The woman had straight hair of an auburn tint that ran down her back all the way to her hips. She was thin, her leggings highlighting the shape of her legs as her tight half-zip jumper showed off the perfection of her upper body. 

She was dressed in black from head to toe. In that sense, although some people might have found her lips too extra, they were a spectacular addition. And right away Yoongi was reminded of his best friend.

An unknown feeling crept up into Yoongi's heart, one that he had never felt before.

In his chest, he could feel a sudden increase in the speed of his heartbeat. The rhythm and song had changed. This change was totally unforeseen and too intense for the young bloke.

He stood still, waiting for the girl to utter something first, and to his luck, she did.

'W-well, um, if you don't need those, please give them to me, red roses are my favourite. I would hate to see them being thrown away when they are clearly so fresh,' she mumbled shyly, tugging a strand of hair behind her ears.

Yoongi didn't budge. How was he going to hand them to her?

When the woman realised it too, she instantly invited him inside. 'Hey, do you wanna come in? Perhaps get dried? I-I know it might be uncomfortable but, um, yeah...'

'Are you sure?' Yoongi rasped, swallowing a huge, bothersome lump that had almost thwarted him from speaking.

She nodded, disappearing from the balcony, but Yoongi stood motionless like a soldier. Still, nervous and dumbfounded.

Less than five but more than two minutes later, she showed up with a huge dark purple umbrella, ushering the man to follow her inside. 

Once the two had made it through the elevator and were finally inside her apartment, Yoongi handed the woman the bouquet. She was walking on air. Yoongi wouldn't have cared, but his heart somehow forced him to. 

'You like them?' he asked awkwardly with a cough, punching his chest in an attempt to quell his racing heart.

'I'm literally in love!' the woman squeaked excitedly, instantly placing them into a white vase with water.

She leant back, staring at the flowers fondly before swiftly realizing that the man she had just met must've been freezing.

'Oh, I am sorry. I completely forgot! Take off your jacket, please. If you want, I can give you some clothes. I have clothes for men...'

Yoongi rose a curious brow, but said nothing, simply nodding. As he slipped off his drenched coat, he watched her scurrying away to another room before returning with a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a warm hoodie. She had also brought him some socks.

'I am Yoongi by the way.' he bowed, accepting the clothes politely. 'Well, full name's Min Yoongi.'

'O-oh, right. I am Haneul, Myung Haneul.' she smiled, so did he. 'You could stay until the rain is out,' Haneul proposed nervously, hoping that Yoongi wouldn't have found the suggestion weird.

'Sure.' he nodded, not noticing the sigh of relief that left her lips.

'Do you drink wine?' Haneul asked hesitantly as said he did. 'Then would you like to drink some red wine on the balcony?'

'Sure. Don't worry I have a high tolerance.' 

'I wasn't really worried about that, but it's good I guess.' Haneul grinned, encouraging him to follow her to the balcony. 'I was already having some, let me just go get another glass.' she rushed off to the kitchen. 

Yoongi's lips parted in surprise at how cosy and nice her balcony looked. There were Christmas lights and flower pots all over the railing. A small wooden table with three chairs was placed in the middle. A big tent of a dull-ish brick red shielded the balcony from the rain.

Even though it was pouring, the air was warm with a subtle hint of freshness.

'Wow, it's lovely out here!' he sat down, analysing his surroundings in awe. 'And warm too.'

'Yep, I bought a very high-quality heater since I often like to sit here outside at night no matter what season it is.'

'It must feel nice, the view's great,' commented Yoongi. He was still a bit stiff, and that made Haneul giggle internally. She thought he was cute. 

'Sometimes the view's depressing, like now, and other times it's beautiful. I like it throughout all seasons, it almost makes me feel like the Earth has feelings,' Ha-Neul chuckled cutely, feeling like her words were kind of childish as she passed Yoongi a warm blanket just in case.

'Thanks,' he said, 'that's beautiful thinking right there, and I am sure it's true.' Yoongi looked down at his glass.

The poetic words of the woman, who seemed only a year younger than him, rang in his head like one of those piano pieces he was obsessed with. He really wanted to grab her words and put them into a song dedicated to her.

Haneul tugged a strand of her silky hair behind her pierced ear once again, and that was the first time Yoongi had noticed her earrings. Her threader earrings were silver, adding a sparkle to her natural grace.

At that moment, Yoongi wanted to shamelessly reach his hand out and feel them with the tip of his very own fingers.

'Those earrings really complement your beauty,' Yoongi blurted out, not realising he had said the words out loud; he was too deep in his thought, too immersed in the girl before his eyes. 

There was something about her that just went beyond her luscious eyes, her foxy eyeliner or her risqué lips. This sentiment was incomprehensible, yet potent.

'O-oh, thank you...' Haneul looked down, blood rushing to her puffy cheeks as she bit onto her lower lip.

'Your name is beautiful too.' he looked at her, 'It suits you.'

She hadn't received a sincere compliment in a while, so she couldn't help but feel fluttered. Nevertheless, she remained silent. 

Staring into Yoongi's eyes felt so intimate. They were deep and dark. They were honest and kind of sentimental.

'But I think you're more beautiful than the starry night sky. You're just so captivating that you got me rambling,' admitted Yoongi, somewhat shamelessly. Haneul looked speechless.

The minty-green-haired man chuckled as he reached for the wine bottle and poured both of them some of the red liquid. After the two chugged a sip down, they placed their glasses back onto the table.

'Do you perhaps have a boyfriend? I don't want to sound intrusive, but I don't want to cause a misunderstanding either,' Yoongi mumbled, clearly uncomfortable as he eyed the clothes that he was dressed in.

'Oh, right! No, do not worry, I don't have a boyfriend. Not any more at least.' Haneul poured more wine and boozed it down right away.

'We broke up just a week ago because he got arrested,' she explained, 'I don't know why or for how long, but he didn't even come to see me one last time.'

'Whatever, I am trying to get over him.' Haneul's lips quivered but she quickly put a smile back on, not wanting to ruin the light mood.

'My bad for asking.' he pursed his lips as the girl shook her head, saying that it was okay.

'Would it bother you if I had a smoke?' Yoongi inquired suddenly, feeling an unexpected urge to smoke.

Haru had always told him he should stop, that he was getting addicted, and Yoongi agreed. But did he listen? Obviously, no.

'Yeah, sure,' she replied casually. Haneul didn't like the idea of smoking, but wouldn't deny the man just because of that. She was intrigued by this man who gave off mysterious vibes.

With the permission granted, Yoongi slipped his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket along with his lighter. He cupped his hand around the cigarette and lighter, allowing the tip to get stung by the little flame.

And after the first mephitic puff of smoke left his lips, the two began conversing.

Their conversation went on and on, almost endlessly. They stayed up until late, not knowing that just a bouquet of roses would have tied them together for years.

───── ❝ end of f.b. ❞ ─────

Monday, 30th of January, 2021

Yoongi slowly blinked his eyes open, feeling a warm presence between his arms. He looked down, smiling at the woman that slept on his chest, and exhaled in bliss.

Haneul was still snoring lightly since they had gone to sleep very late the previous night. However, what Yoongi had seemed to have forgotten was that the next day would have been a Monday. 

He reached for his phone, careful not to disturb his girlfriend. After grabbing it and adjusting himself into a more comfortable position, with Haneul still sleeping as if she were dead, he noticed he had seven unread messages from his best friend.

Yoongi tensed up a little, feeling worried for Haru as he opened their chat. 

'Four missed calls and three unread messages from "Ms Only-Black-Clothes".'

"Yoongi! Come here, quick! You are late, what the fuck dude?" - 7:54 a.m.

"Where are you?!? We have an exam for chemistry! What a jackass!" - 8:00 a.m.

"Okay, shit, I have a serious problem, please come!" - 10:41 a.m.

"MIN YOONGI! They are bothering me again because you and Jimin were my models for the project! Please come quickly..." - 10:47 a.m.

His eyes widened as he shot up from the bed, instantly checking the time. It was was three minutes past eleven.

In the meantime, Yoongi had completed missed the fact that he had swatted Haneul off of him, abruptly waking her up.

'Fuck! Why didn't my alarm ring?' he grunted angrily, looking through his clock only to figure it had been turned off.

'What's happening, Min?' Haneul asked, rubbing her eyes sleepily, just wishing to plop back down onto the bed, drowning in Yoongi's embrace. Only after a couple of seconds of silence, she realised how pissed Yoongi looked as his chest rose and fell quickly.

'Fuck, fuck! I need to go.' Yoongi got up swiftly, pulling off the loose grey T-shirt that he had on while sleeping. 'Haru, what's wrong?' He whispered under his breath as he hastily changed into the outfit he had worn the prior night.

As soon as he was about to sprint out of Haneul's bedroom, she grabbed his wrist.

'Don't go.' the woman frowned, the yearning for him to stay clearly audible in her voice. 'I turned your alarm off, I am sorry,' Haneul admitted, looking down at his shaking hand in hers. 'Don't leave me, don't leave me for her.' 

Nonetheless, before she could say anything else, Yoongi apologised and drew his hand out of hers, dashing towards the door.

'Don't leave me! Don't leave me for her again!' Haneul dropped onto her knees, ululating stridently. She dug her long, black nails into her pale yellow pyjama bottoms, rocking back and forth, her face turning into a hideous and cry-baby-like image.

'Don't leave me, don't leave me for her again...' she repeated weakly, using the last bit of her hoarse, trembling voice that she had left.

It wasn't just the fact that he had left when he had promised to spend more time with her, but it was the fact that he had left for her again. For Do Haru.

Haneul was ditched again. She was abandoned again. How long was she going to take it and suck it up? How long would she stay in the dust?

───── ❝ m.yg. ❞ ─────

After fifteen minutes of dangerously speeding through that morning's traffic, Yoongi had miraculously made it to the university safe and sound. He instantly parked his car and dashed off, searching for Haru in every hallway near her clothing designing classroom, but couldn't find her anywhere.

Running his fingers through his hair in frustration, he took a second to breathe, and that was the moment that he had caught sight of something he wished he hadn't.

Haru was squatting down, her eyes bloodshot, exposing just how hard she had cried her heart out as a few more tears streamed down her cheeks. A small, warm hand was wiping them off as she happily accepted its cordiality, leaning into it.

However, what had his heart shuttering uselessly like a building after a horrible earthquake, was when he moved forwards, his lips meeting hers.

Jimin, as he cupped Haru's tear-stained cheek, pressed a gentle peck onto her red lips, numb from how much she had bitten onto it out of anxiousness. The kiss was delicate yet firm, their lips pressed against each other for a few (ironically) long seconds, Haru's closed eyelashes fluttering from how delightful she felt.

She was in a euphoric state as Yoongi felt the exact opposite.

They pulled away, both of their eyelashes flickering speedily as their wide eyes bore into one another's. Jimin moved his thumb along Haru's cheek, trying to soothe her stress down.

And Yoongi was really sent into a fit of ceaseless agony. Pure, sickening agony. If he thought it couldn't get any worse, he was a fool because when her lips curled into a remedied simper, he felt his first tear fall.

He didn't know why it stung so bad, so disgustingly bad. All he knew was that it stung, and nothing had hurt him that much in quite a few years. What right did he have though?

Haru had barely dated in her life and when she did, it was never a serious thing, but she had never grinned at anyone like that before other than her best friend. How could he take it? Wasn't that smile for him solely? 

An intruder had made it into a cell and liberated all criminals. The offenders ran loudly and freely, mocking the very own person who had released them. And that was a metaphor for Yoongi's unjustified lamenting.

He had freed his own tears, no matter how much he wished he hand't done that, they were running free. The salty liquid was deliberately and continuously sliding down his cheeks, not caring how much Yoongi tried to hold them in.

They utterly ignored their own liberator as he only supplicated them to stop. He wanted them to stop, he wanted the pang of betrayal and burn in his chest to cease because he knew they all meant one thing. The thing he wanted to kill, deny and obliterate for years. 

He knew that this was the confession of his tears. But he didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to believe it, he didn't want it to be the reality. So he turned around, walking away as he pulled the hood of his coat over his head, trying to hide the grotesqueness of his agony.

↳ TO BE CONTINUED... ❞

Published date: 15/10/2021.

Word count: 3,357.

—jiminandhisjams