de·pres·sion
/dəˈpreSH(ə)n/
noun
a mental condition characterized by feelings of severe despondency and dejection, typically also with feelings of inadequacy and guilt, often accompanied by lack of energy and disturbance of appetite and sleep.

_________________________

The stale tune of the elevator music plays overhead as you waited for the ding, prompting the arrival of a to your floor.

You walked distractedly through the doors as they separated, your eyes fixed on the messages you'd sent to Namjoon over 3 weeks.

Me: Namjoon. Did you make it home?

Me: Joon. I'm not upset about falling. You didn't hurt me.

Me: Seriously? You're ignoring me?

Me: Namjoon.

Me: please call me back.

Me: I know you see me calling you.

Me: please don't do anything reckless...

Me: Joonie, please. Just let me know if you're ok.

You sigh at the timestamps and the read receipts underneath each, quelling back the twinges of hurt and rejection in your heart.

Namjoon wasn't responding to your texts or calls since the incident in the parking lot and you knew exactly why. You regretted the way you handled him in the state he was in immensely.

You were cold, despondent, and hostile. You knew referring to him as a patient would hurt him, dehumanizing him and simplifying him to appear as a victim of his mental illness.

Labeling him...letting his disease define him as the man he worked so hard not to be anymore.

Something that as a professional, you knew was detrimental to a patient's growth.

"Dammit" you murmur as you walked past your assistant Sulli's desk, unaware of the visitor speaking with her casually, your eyes and thumbs fixed over your screen as you typed.

Me: Namjoon,
I understand you're upset. Whether with me or with yourself, I sincerely hope that you know that what happened doesn't change my view of you. I'm just worried.....please

You pause, groaning softly with frustration as you tap the backspace, deleting the entire message.

What was there to say?
You couldn't say you'd forgiven him for lying to you or what happened in the dressing room but it wasn't like you really gave him a chance to tell his side.
Even if it was bullshit...
Maybe letting him talk wouldn't have been such a bad idea.

You reach for your door handle, pausing mid-turn when a smooth voice summons you to turn around.

"Oh, Dr.Song!" Dr. Park calls from behind you.

You turn in time to see him jogging over to where you stood, a blushing Sulli trying her darnedest to stare at his toned lower half covered in tailored black slacks as he left her desk.

You couldn't help but smirk at her flushed expression, peeling your eyes away from her just as the illustrious specimen stopped at your door.

Dr.Park Jimin was a handsome devil, his pitch-black hair, sharp undercut, sultry eyes, and perfectly pouted lips had everyone at the clinic swooning when he first arrived, transferring from a psychiatric hospital in Busan.

You didn't know extremely well, mainly in passing and through correspondence.

He was incredibly buoyant and charming, well respected, and came highly recommended. So when you felt it was time for Namjoons case to be handled by someone else less "involved", you didn't hesitate to contact your colleague.

"Good morning Dr.Park." You smile politely and Jimin bows his head in greeting.

"Dr.Song." He smiles and you clear your throat when his beauty catches you off guard.

For a moment you weren't sure why he was there until the realization hits you the moment he pays you an expectant look.

Jimin quirks his brow

You wrinkle your brow and slap your palm against it.

"The email! Right...I completely forgot. Please come in.."

Jimin smiles and gently takes the door handle before you can grab it and opens your office door for you, bowing politely to let you enter first as he pulled the door shut behind him.

"Please forgive me, Dr.Park...I'm a bit distracted this morning." You admitted as you shuffled into your office on your heels and Jimin shrugged as he looks around curiously.

"It's fine Dr.Song. I got your email a bit later than I should have. Forgive me for taking so long to get back to you." He says distractedly. He walks around casually, examining the walls decorated with your awards and diplomas, the bookshelves, and the artwork.

His eyes catch on one in particular on a wall nearest to your desk and take a step towards it to examine it better.

"That's not a problem at all. I know you're a busy man." You mumble as you flipped on the rest of the lights and turn on your computer.

"Eh..not that busy." He shrugs again as he leaned over the desk a bit to examine the painting closer.

You pause your boot-up routine when you notice him, following his gaze as he fixated.

Your eyes widen with realization and you clear your throat and turn away towards your mini-fridge in search of something to ease your throat.

"Would you like something to drink? I have water, juice, iced coffee.."

Jimin peels his eyes from the art to watch you kneel as you select a beverage and he smirks with amusement.

"No thank you. I'm fine." He says.

When you stand you can feel Jimin watching you, not in an inappropriate way but you still felt small and exposed under his knowing and observant gaze.

What a familiar feeling...

"Well. I'm sure you're wondering why I contacted you." You shake the creeping self-consciousness as you gestured towards the sitting area of your office, bottled water in hand.

Jimin smiles brightly, following you to sit and as he eases into the cushions, you can't deny the warmth his easy-going aura gave off, suddenly lifting the cloud of unease from your shoulders as you prepared yourself for the conversation.

"I am curious. Your email was pretty vague. Care to tell me why you needed to see me?" He sighs as he sat, an impressed frown crossing his face as he tested the spring back of the sofa.

You stifle your giggle as you took your seat across from him.

"Yes. I wanted to ask you something, but I'm not sure how I should go about it.." you admit almost nervously and Jimin glances up at you, ceasing his fascination with the furniture.

"Well how about you just start by telling me what or who it's about.." he sits upright and you nod, taking a level to breathe as you begin.

"It's about a patient. Kim Namjoon."

Jimin blinks.

"Ah. I see. What about?" he quirks a brow.

Your words began to plummet from your lips faster than you can stop them, your nerves compelling you to just get it all out and over with.

Sitting in front of the heart-breakingly handsome Dr.Park was awkward enough.

"Ok listen. I know this is a bit unorthodox and extremely frowned upon but..." you lean up to the edge of your seat, avoiding Jimins eyes as you spoke.

"You want me to betray patient confidentiality so that you can follow up on a patient that is no longer under your care..." he cuts in and you pause.

"No..well..yes but no-no-no. I.....was just curious about his progress." You back peddle anxiously, missing the same knowing crease in Jimins smile as you avert your eyes.

You turn your face to tuck a hair behind your ear in an attempt to hide your blush and Jimin remains nonchalant.

"He's doing well Id say. I can tell there's much that he's still holding back but I know it takes some time to develop that line of trust." he shrugs.

You nod in understanding, although you knew it didn't take long for Namjoon to open up to you.

To trust you.

"Anything specific that he's making a breakthrough on?" you ask with hopefulness.

"You know I can't tell you that Dr.Song." Jimin leans back against the couch, casually lifting a leg to cross over the other and resting his clasped hands in his lap.

You couldn't stop the disappointment from forming in your expression at the subtle rejection.

"Oh. Of course, I'm sorry. I don't know why I asked that..." you blush harder.

Jimin stares at you with a hard blankness as you stammered before finally cracking his million-dollar smile.

"...but since you probably know a great deal about his case already, I see no issues in discussing some minor details. Perhaps we can help each other for the patient's benefit. What do want to know?"

You blink in surprise at how compliant Jimin is, suddenly feeling guilty for putting him in this position. But when you notice that same knowing look in his eyes, you wilt with even more guilt.

"Dr.Song.." he says after you don't respond and you sigh.

"How he's doing, really?" You ask and Jimin smirks.

"Well up until 3 weeks ago he was responding great as I said."

"What do you mean?" you frown.

"Kim Namjoon has canceled his last three sessions. Claiming he has some scheduling conflicts and would resume therapy when he had them ironed out." Jimin says casually and your eyes widen with surprise, although you weren't really surprised.

You knew what may have caused that.

"..oh. Well...that's a shame." You state, sipping your water.

"It is...." Jimin nods, narrowing his gaze.

As you drank, that same sense of self-consciousness grew and you already knew that Jimin was analyzing and profiling your every move.

"...You care about this patient." Jimin breaks the silence with a matter-of-fact tone.

"Well..of course. I care about all of my patients." You furrow your brow, feigning innocence.

Jimin arches his and chuckles softly at your dismissal.

"Oh? So you keep personal items of your patients in your office? Close to your desk where you can see it every day?" He rebuttals and you nearly choke as you lift the bottle for another sip.

The painting.
The large 8x10 cut out of the piece you and Namjoon created together.
The large masculine gold handprint smeared with flecks of green...
The smaller and more feminine handprint over smeared with streaks of gold...
Overlaying each other and mixing their shades in a sinful exchange of energy and will.

Namjoon gifted the framed section to you after a full month of seeing each other, telling you that he wanted you to always be reminded of the night he revealed his heart to you.

Memories of that evening render you silent, almost forgetting about the man sitting 5 feet away from you.

Jimin raises his eyebrows and tilts his head with that cute unapologetic arrogance only he can get away with.

He knew. He had to know.

"That obvious?" You finally say, a cautious accent on your tone as you twisted the bottle cap anxiously.

"Meh...I'm a behavioral psychologist Dr.Song." Jimin winks and you gulp at the attractive gesture.

You're flooded with a sense of relief for some reason.

"But how..."

"Namjoon isn't a very transparent man as you may know. He can go on and on about things he's most interested in though. A few things in particular."

"Which are?" You ask, setting the bottle down.

"Music, Art, Sex and..." Jimin draws his pause out, looking at you expectantly.

"Me." You finish with a stupefied expression.

"Of course, he never said your name. But you know." Jimin's dances with amusement.

So he absolutely knew.

"Well....this is embarrassing........... You probably think the worst of me." You reach up as if you were to hide your face and Jimin lets out a laugh.

"Not at all. In fact, it's my job NOT to judge...."

Jimin bounced his leg and regards you expectantly, the look that every therapist(you included) knew was used when assuring the patient that they were in a safe space to talk.

This casual conversation wasn't casual at all.

This was a session.

And with another leveling sigh, you unloaded.

"I didn't go into this role thinking it would turn out this way. I wanted to remain objective and unattached but he just....pulled me into his world. Professionally I knew it was wrong but everything else felt right."

"Something happened recently. Parts of our past snuck in through the back door and as a result, I was hurt. But I said some things to him. Hurtful things. I meant them but I didn't consider how they would affect him mentally. And I should have known better. I've been on the fence whether or not to let him go or..."

"I've been trying to reach out but he's ignoring me. And I'm afraid he may have detached himself from me. I'm afraid I'm the reason why he stopped pursuing therapy and is closing himself off...."

Jimin listens and takes in your confession with a thoughtful expression.

"Well...It sounds to me like you love him, Dr.Song...."

You gulp at the sound of the word.

"Does he know this? Have you told him?" Jimin continues.

You consider the question, wilting as you shook your head wordlessly.

Jimin nods shortly and hums to himself in thought.

"Do you want my professional opinion?"  He says a few moments after.

You nod, feeling the weight lift from your shoulders accompanied by the strain of possible regret as you awaited Jimins opinion.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe what Namjoon needed all along was for someone to treat him like someone who didn't need to be treated? Perhaps as you stepped away from being his therapist, you became his therapy..."

Whoa. He's good.

You allowed your mind to digest his suggestion, finding the truth and the irony of his words staggering.

An alert notification rings on Jimins smartwatch and you knew before he could even say anything that this conversation was nearing its end. But there was one more question that you needed answered.

"You probably have things to attend to. And I thank you for stopping by.."

Jimin reads the message on his watch before glancing up to meet your gaze.

"Anytime Dr.Song. And don't worry. Everything we've discussed is completely off the record. Just casual talk amongst esteemed colleagues." Jimin assures you and you nod to deter the thick emotional reaction of gratitude from ruining your well-put facade of professionalism.

"Thank you...seriously.." is all you can say and Jimin bows his head politely.

You watched Jimin stand slowly, glancing at his watch and straightening his tie as he did so.

You followed suit as he moved sideways to head for your office door.

Just as you reach for your handle, you pause and Jimin takes note of your hesitation, sensing that you needed to say something.

"Was there anything else you needed to say?"

"What should I do?" You look up with vulnerable eyes and Jimins expression softens.

He reaches for your hand as it grasped the handle shakily, taking it in his own to hold as he spoke to you.

"Now that, I definitely can't tell you. Mainly because I don't know. I've only gotten to know Kim Namjoon's many shells. You've cracked him straight to the core. Only you know what you believe is right..."

He gives you a soft closed-lip smile and wink before releasing your hand and opening the door, pulling it behind him to close as he exited your office.

__________

Mia pulls her apartment door shut, mumbling a pretty melody she'd been working on as she locked her door.

She turns to head up the hall, turning a corner and walking straight towards the elevator.

The door dings just as she approaches it and as the panels slide open, she stops humming.

Her eyes settle on you, cursing to yourself as you rang out your dripping hair.

An unexpected drizzle caught you on the way from your car to the building and you were mentally scolding yourself for not having an umbrella as usual.

You look up when you sense a presence and freeze just as she did when she saw you first.

"Song..."  she says dryly.

"Mia..." you say drier.

"Funny running into you again.." she says sarcastically and your unrecognizable self perks up from where she'd been slumbering for the past few weeks.

Mia regarded you with the usual mirth but for some reason, she seemed hostile and resentful.

As if you did something too wrong to her.

You didn't know whether you wanted to slap the spit from her mouth or to cuss her out.

Neither of which were in your character but you were realizing more and more lately that you didn't know yourself as well you thought you did.

"Funny.." you remark coldly.

You choose to take the high road, stopping the elevator doors from closing you in and shuffling past her in your soaked attire.

You weren't in the mood for a catfight today.

After you're halfway up the hall, you hear hurried footsteps behind you.

"Song..wait..." Mia calls after you.

You stop but don't turn to face her.

"What.."

"There's something I want to say...so could you please.." Mia stomps childishly as you look over your shoulder, catching her twirling her finger to encourage you to face her head-on.

You sigh but comply, turning around and folding your arms over your chest with a scowl.

Mia mirrors your expression from where she stood several feet away, but this moment wasn't about her.

She had something to say.

"I don't like you very much...." she says finally and you lift both brows in surprise.

"You wanted me to stop...for that?" You can't help but laugh.

Mia doesn't appreciate your tone but scolds herself for coming off so crass.

"No...ugh...you'd think as a songwriter I would be better at this...ok" she scrunches her face with frustration then lets out a level breath before starting again.

"I don't like you but it isn't because I don't think you're a good person...."

When your smirk drops to a frown of confusion, Mia continues.

"You're a better woman than me. I'm not so self-absorbed to the point where I don't see that. All of my life I've had run-ins with women who were better than me and it didn't matter how pretty I was or how talented I was...I always fell short somehow. So I don't like your Song but it has nothing to do with your character. So I hope you don't take it personally.."

"Mia...you lost me.." you blink.

Mia scoffs and takes a few steps towards where you stood.

"I'm trying to tell you.....look Namjoon isn't what you're probably thinking he is...I know that night you saw us together, it looked really bad but..he's not that kind of man."

You tense at her words, the rage and hurt from that night rushing back in at once. You weren't in the mood for this conversation, but something told you to hear the girl out.

"And You're telling me you know who he is?" You bite and Mia begins to look hopeful.

"I know who he was...." she nods with honest eyes.

When you don't respond, only giving her an expectant look, Mia knows for sure now that she has the floor.

"Namjoon and I met at a time in our lives where...we were both lost, immature......I had my issues....." Mia winces at the wasted years...the pills, the alcohol...

"And he had his......."

Four years ago...

The party was dark and hazy, the thick sheen of smoke and bodies coating the air.
Namjoon pushed his way through, not caring who he pissed off as he scanned the packed small space in search of her.

He growls in frustration when he doesn't see her and he's just about to start checking the rooms when he hears a commotion coming to the end of a long dark hallway.

The other party-goers were either too inebriated to notice the sounds of juvenile whooping and laughter...

Too caught up in the blaring music in the small inner-city house...

Or too caught in both to care.

But Namjoon felt an invisible chord pulling him towards it, his big heart thudding in his chest, testosterone and adrenaline coloring his veins.

His body trembled as he reached the door, the sounds growing louder and louder...
He clenches his fists and closed his eyes, pressing his hand to the wood as he silently prayed to anyone that would listen that nothing was going on on the other side of the door that would set him off.

But when he hears her voice, his eyes burst open as does the door, and Namjoon barrels in.

A few minutes later...

Mia shoves through the crowded main room, fixing her disheveled clothing and bumping into people on her way towards the front door.

"Mia!..." Namjoon is on her heels, reaching for her arm as they get outside.

"Fuck off.." Mia slurs, snatching her arm away as Namjoon grabs her wrist.

"Stop! Would you just stop?!" He shouts, yanking her to a halt on the sidewalk.

"What Monster?" She turns to scowl at him, his black hair falling over his sharp infuriated eyes.

"The fuck is wrong with you?? What were you doing in there with those pricks?" Namjoon grits his teeth and squeezes Mia's wrist.

"Well I was having fun until you showed up.." she tugs against his hold until he throws her wrist in anger.

"If I hadn't shown up when I did, you would have been in a fucking gang bang with a line of coke smeared across your face..." Namjoon digs in his pockets for his car keys, pushing a drunken Mia up the street until they were standing where he parked.

"You're dramatic..it wasn't even like that."Mia rolls her eyes as she plopped down in the passenger seat.

"Mia you have fucking hickeys.." Namjoon huffs as he entered on the driver's side, slamming the door.

"Whatever...How did you even know I was here?" Mia slurs again, leaning her spinning head back against the headrest.

"Does it matter?" Namjoon mumbles as he starts the car.

"Oh wait let me guess...you followed me? Fucking typical. You know you don't own me right? I'm not your fucking child or your girlfriend!" Mia points her finger and pokes the side of Namjoons's head aggressively, cackling at his appalled reaction before pulling up the street.

The two argued the whole way back to her apartment, their usual routine.

Ending the night in a steamy yet sobering session of passionate and angry sex that left them both spent and sore.

As Mia slept, Namjoon rummaged through her things maniacally, emptying her pockets in search of any hidden party favors that he could secretly dispose of.

As he did, a crumpled-up paper tumbled from her bra and Namjoon stoops down to pick it up from the cluttered floor.

A phone number was scrawled on it, " T." written below it.

His eyes cut to Mia's sleeping body and sigh as he ripped the number into shreds, then climbs back into bed with her.

A few weeks pass.

Namjoon exits the stage, the small crowd at the underground rap battle rumbling the venue and chanting his name.

Sweat dripped from his brow and he beamed with pride, having pulled off another impressive performance and winning over another tough crowd with his witty punchlines and raw rap style.

He was on fire.

He was on the rise.

He had worked hard for what felt like years on his craft, getting his toe into as many doors as he could to show his talent and affinity for the art of music.

And tonight he finally felt as if he was truly heard, claiming victory over his opponent and sparking his buzz.

Nothing could ruin this moment for him...

Nothing except...

He searched the small backstage area for Mia, knowing she would be back there waiting as his only support.

But she was nowhere to be found.

The sound of her voice and a door swinging open catches his ear, leading him further backstage and his nerves began to sting with anxiety as he neared a dark corner just beyond the back exit.

The door was cracked, letting in a sliver of light from the streetlamp nearby and hushed sounds of a very agitated masculine voice overpowering Mia's soft intimidated whispers.

"What do you mean you don't have it?" He snaps, making Mia flinch.

"I don't have it. It's probably back at my apartment...if you just give me a couple of days.." she pleads, her hands trembling at her sides.

The guy squints his eyes, the piercing in his lip and eyebrow gleaming in the street light, flipping his overgrown and shaggy bang out of his face.

"You don't have a couple of days. I want my money or my product back now...So which will it be?" He takes a step towards her, forcing her back against the side of the building.

"I....." Mia's eyes widen as he looms over her, trapping her against the wall with his body.

After a second passes and her silence persists, the guy clicks his pierced tongue with disappointment.

"Well I guess you'll have to figure out another way to pay me back.." he sneers, leaning down with a sinister smile. His hands begin to snake up under Mia's shirt, his other pressing against her throat to keep her still.

"Huh?...no wait...stop..please stop.." she mumbles helplessly as she felt his lips brush against her jaw bone, the freehand now traveling south to slip under the waistband of her jeans.

She fights to push against his advances but he's too strong and the reality of what was about to happen sets in. Mia shuts her eyes tight when she feels his cold fingers slipping past the elastic of her panties.

Suddenly his suffocating weight on her body vanishes, the sound of a struggled groan followed by a muffled cracking sound forcing Mia's eyes to pop open.

Namjoon had Mia's assailant by the collar, slamming his body against the concrete and raining down his fury with very blunt punches against his chest and face.

The poor guy didn't even have a chance.

Namjoon felt the slick of his blood smearing against his knuckles but he couldn't stop.

Visions of him violating Mia replay with every connected hit and he soon felt himself slip into a blackout.

"Namjoon stop!" Mia screamed as the guy's face grew bloody beyond recognition. She stumbles away from the wall to pull at Namjoons shirt, but he doesn't respond to her cries.

Blinded by rage, Namjoon pummeled the young man until he felt himself being yanked back by security.

He thrashed and swung as he tried to resist the larger man's hold, his shirt torn and hands raw and red.

Mia's mascara ran thick and black down her fast as her tears flowed freely, the sight of Namjoon so violent inciting fear in her heart that she'd never felt before.

She looks over at the man who had just tried to take advantage of her, panting and moaning in pain on the pavement stained by his blood.

It was horrendous.

And in a twisted kind of way...it was her fault.

Namjoon shouts when he feels a stiff arm come around his throat, pulling him back in a chokehold while two other men rushed in to grab his flailing fists, locking them behind his body by the wrist.

It took three men 7 minutes to subdue him and keep him that way long enough for the police to arrive.

They drug him and his victim away in handcuffs as Mia watched from the sidelines. Her eyes were wide with embarrassment and fear, locking with Namjoons as he was placed in the back seat of the cruiser.

Mia blinks back the unpleasant memory as she recalled it, sparing you the graphic details as she gave you a glimpse of Namjoons past.

"....after he was bailed out of jail, Seokjin made him move out of my place. But we didn't stop seeing each other..."

"Another year passed and his temper got worse. And so did my addiction. A toxic pattern formed and if it weren't for Seokjin being there..believing in his potential and talent...Who knows where he might have ended up. He was brash and impulsive and kind of obsessive...but I didn't help any of that...And when he finally started getting help, I started to fall back from him...feeling guilty for being such an unhealthy influence...knowing I wasn't ready to change.."

"I made a lot of bad decisions. One in particular that made me leave Seoul years ago...I got caught up with another dealer...got knocked up..it had nothing to do with Namjoon but I made him feel responsible for it. And it's gonna take some time for me to forgive myself for that..."

Mia looks away to swipe a stray tear from her eye, giving you a moment to process her story. But you still didn't know what the hell it had to do with you.

"Ok..." you say, blinking and Mia composes herself to continue.

"I think since meeting you though, he finally started to forgive himself..and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm thankful. He deserved better.." Mia finishes.

You furrow your brow in confusion but nod.

"Well, I appreciate you for telling me that Mia..."

"But I also think you'd be an idiot to let a man like him drift away..." she cuts you off.

"Excuse me?" You can't help but laugh at her boldness but she's unfazed by your amusement.

Mia rolls her eyes and sighs loudly.

"Look...I pushed up on Namjoon that night. He rejected me and I kept pushing...I wanted to verify that he was really over me...but I could see it in his eyes that he was the moment I saw you two at the theatre. He loves you Song. And the immature part of me didn't like the idea of losing someone like him to another woman who I knew was better than me..."

That was most definitely a mouthful, and even Mia can be seen sagging with relief as she unloaded on you...a feeling you ironically related with from your conversation with Dr.Park that morning.

For the first time since meeting Mia, you saw the human in her.

The damaged, vulnerable human with a past of her own. And slowly, the red haze of dislike grew more and more opaque by the second, allowing you to see her in a different shade...

A new light.

"Are you done?" You say, trying your best not to sound rude or combative and Mia shakes her head.

"No. I also have one more thing to say...."

She digs into her purse and pulls out a key and frowns as she approached you.

"I made a copy of your apartment key. I took them from him one night at the studio, thinking they were Namjoons. I'm not proud of it but I don't feel right walking around with it on me anymore. I came back to Seoul for Namjoon and I was determined to have him. But I'm having a change of heart. Also...."

Mia pauses as she waits for you to put your hand out so she can drop the golden key dangling from a thin ring into your palm.

You already knew your eyes were wide from shock but Mia continues.

"...Yoongi reminds me a lot of myself and Namjoon. Someone who had a dark period in their life is taking the necessary steps to heal from it. Now I know you're the doctor and the expert on things like this..so I shouldn't have to be the one to tell you to forgive him. I don't know what happened between you two... but I can tell it haunts him. And by the look on your face right now...I can tell that it still haunts you too...So. Forgive him."

And with that, Mia turns on her heels and walks straight for the elevator without looking back.

You wait until she's gone before turning around to head for your apartment, completely dumbfounded.

To humor yourself, you use the key Mia gave you to unlock your door and laugh with astonishment as the key turns smoothly and you hear the click.

You walk into your apartment, shutting the door with your back as you leaned against it.

A shiver runs over you, reminding you of your dampened outfit and dripping hair but you don't make a move to go change.

You just stand there, eyes fixed on a spot on your floor as you recounted the day.

Every single second of it has something to do with Namjoon.

Mia's words stick out the most, echoing in your mind.

Forgiveness.

As cliche as it seemed...

The only true way for anyone to begin healing was to forgive.

Forgiving those who hurt you.
Forgiving our circumstances.
And finally forgiving ourselves.

The confusion you were on the brink of drowning in for weeks...months....maybe even years, slowly begins to circle the drain of your consciousness.

And you knew exactly what you had to do.

Without ever dropping your purse or changing clothes or grabbing your damn umbrella...you hurriedly turn your doorknob to open it and rush to lock it behind you as you darted up the hall towards the elevator.

Finally...you knew.