'ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ, ʷᵉ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ ʷᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ, ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿᵗ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ʷᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿᵗ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ.'

⁻ˢᵃᵛⁱ ˢʰᵃʳᵐᵃ, ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵛᵉˡ 'ᴱᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᴴᵃˢ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ'.

***

Jimin

Here he was again. The desolate, and completely barren park in which Jimin found himself alleviating in, and coincidentally was only a couple of kilometres away from his house, was where he needed to be right now. The cold, the sodden grounds of the oncoming of winter, and the isolation was all it took to put his mind at ease. And, rightly so. Jimin didn't want to see even an inkling of sunlight breaking through the thick, cloud bank which had settled over this part of the city, because in a way while he remained miserable, half of it was a kind of incommensurable negativity. Anger? Or, maybe hesitance?

Maybe, well...maybe Jimin's earlier certainty had been short-lived. It really was so easy, to turn back to this familiar side of himself because it had become...him.

It wasn't as if he was saying that he'd become miserable as a person, but Jimin had become so familiar with this solitary state of mind that it had become his norm. And, as people, we tend to draw ourselves towards familiarity, because we're certain of safety. Jimin had lived this way for so long that he wasn't even sure if he wanted anything else, because this way of living had sucked the warmth from his rosy-coloured life. He'd accepted Jungkook's absence, and now...this? What more could life possibly want from him?

Pulling his hand out from the warmth of his left-jacket pocket, Jimin eyed the paper residing between his fingers before flicking it open with his thumb: another letter, from 'J'. This one didn't have a number, although Jimin had tried calling the other one from before, but if that man had been as serious he came across as then surely he'd used a disposable phone. Instead, similarly as the other, was an address scribbled hastily across the singular sheet along with a date. Jimin had two days to decide. Maybe, 'J' would still save Jungkook. Or, maybe he had no idea who Jimin's ex was, and it really was all down to Jimin to bring the bionic back. Did Jungkook even want to come back? Had he loved Jimin enough to feel...this? Torment?

Jimin sighed. Then, his head fell back to rest atop the metal bar of the park bench. The cold licked the skin on the back of his neck, spreading across his skin like the lacy tide on a frigid winter beach. With purple lips tinged with blue and gently chattering teeth he wrapped his jacket around him tighter, before closing his eyes.

***
Shrills, cries and screams.; they filled Jimin's head, like gallons of water would fill a small glass, and only with his eyelids glued together could he ignore them. Why? Because, honestly, the last thing which Jimin wanted to hear on a Monday morning was the rancid and aggravating sounds of vexatious children. Standing beneath dingy clouds, and among swampy puddles that accumulated amidst the unevenness of the asphalt ground, Jimin could think of other places to be rather than here.

"Mr Park!" Once again, Jimin found his consciousness stumbling back down to this visible plane, and he opened his eyes. "MinJun won't share the slide with me!"

"Mr Park! They're being mean...make them stop!"

"Wahhhhh...Mr Park..."

"Mr Park, help me! Quickly!"

"Mr Park-"

"...Mr Park...!"

"...mr park-"

"...r...ark..."

"...m......"

"Jimin? Earth to Jimin?" He felt a shiver scrambled up his spine before rattling his heart, and he blinked twice before turning to the figure who's hand sat atop his shoulder. His recollection of that scruffy beard, and bedraggled hair, came fast and in response Jimin couldn't help but sigh in relief. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah...thank god it's you," Jimin huffed, desperation lining his tongue, and not even with subtlety either.

Joowon frowned, before a breathy chuckle escaped his lips. "What? Who's chasing you?"

"Everyone. You have to save me," the blonde ushered through clenched teeth while he eyed the battefield of beanbags, hoolahoops, and multicoloured plastic balls.

The older man, who's aged creases residing in the corners of his eyes still remained somewhat charming, smiled warmly at Jimin before his large hand rose again to clasp the younger's shoulder. "It's your fault for being so likeable."

Jimin shuddered, while his cheeks heated subconsciously at the English teacher's affable character. Two years ago, Jimin had met Chang Joowon as a different person, and the same could be said vice versa. His once clean cut and shaved jawline was gone, replaced with the sense of chilled maturity. Jimin was...glad, that he hadn't been the only one to change. "It's the hair I tell you."

"And the piercings."

Jimin sighed, again. "Guess I'll be dyeing it back to black: back to O'natural."

This time, Joowon let out a hefty laugh and his hand curled around Jimin's shoulder, the gesture genial and without suggestion. "Nah, stay different. You're easy to spot like this," Joowon grinned, while his hand rose even more to ruffle Jimin's golden bangs affectionately. "The kid's like you for you. You'll be fine pup." The spot on Jimin's shoulder became colder, however he couldn't deny the comfort in which he felt upon the taller man's friendly approach, and maybe it gave him a little strength; Joowon's half-glass-full attitude brought a sense of lightness to Jimin's cloudy field of vision, and the edges of his lips curved upward ever so slightly in response to this charming older man.

Had he really known this man for a couple of years now? Somehow, in his mind, Jimin just maybe couldn't believe that, because he hardly knew the man. "Why do you..." he started.

Joowon eyed Jimin from the side, his brow slightly raised. "Hm?"

Like a tiny frog attempting a leap into a vast pond, Jimin's heart lurched, marginally but still with enough virtue to heat the apple's of his cheeks. And, this came surprisingly to the blonde man. Quickly, Jimin turned away and grumbled under his breath. "Why do you call me that?"

"What? Oh-" Joowon paused, before he burst out into a hearty laugh, the beginnings of his prolonged chuckle coming out as a somewhat scoff as if to highlight the absurdness of Jimin's question. Bent over with his palms pressed to his thighs amongst now hoarse chortles, Joowon managed to glance back at Jimin, who's face was sheepishly ablaze. "You...you're only now asking me that?"

"I-I don't what you mean," Jimin contemned. Fingertips skimming the edges of jawline, Jimin continued to steer away from this convivial man, until Joowon finally stood up straight to stretch out his shoulders.

With his lips still spread wide, Joowon folded his arms across his chest. "You don't know what I mean? I don't know what you mean! We've been working with each other for two years, and this is somehow the first time that you've asked me that question." Breaking down into tiny, snuffled sniggers, Joowon composed himself by drawing a large hand down his face, grazing his rough stubble against his palm until it became audible.

"Well, I just...I guess it never came up," the younger stammered, while he tried to pull his eyes away from Joowon's virile stance, before he blew out another lungful of air to calm himself. What could he say? He could appreciate a masculine figure with great forearms every now and then. However these thoughts...Jimin doubted that they'd stay. He was sure, that until the end of time, and every time, that he'd still feel ridden with guilt, even despite his and Jungkook's circumstance. It was probably why he was so good at burying things, submerging them until he was sure that they'd disappear. And, just like that his non-sombre mood became sombre once again.

Maybe Joowon noticed this. If he had, he said nothing, but only took a side-step closer to the smaller man, with a humoured look edged into the grooves of his face. "Hmm...well," Joowon started, "when I first saw you dancing...I found it utterly bewitching," he smiled, taking in Jimin's wide-eyed expression. "And by nature, since I knew that we'd eventually become acquainted I started running possible nicknames through my head, like 'enchantress' and 'witch'-"

"What? W-what does that-" Jimin stuttered, before bringing his fist down into Joowon's side.

Laughing, again, Joowon clutched his side facetiously before he continued. "It's not like I could help it! You had me under a spell, something which I reckon you don't even know that you cast whenever you dance," he replied, his singular sentence calming the smaller and bringing out a strange and familiar sense of comfort within the younger. Turning away, Joowon's pupils trailed the playground, and his distant appearance was enough to draw Jimin closer, awaiting his next words, watching his lips until they belatedly moved. "But then, when you looked over and smiled, it completely contrasted with how I pictured you'd be. You were definitely 'pup'." He grinned, once again. "Pup for sure, don't you agree pup?"

"Sure..." Jimin muttered, his head down, hiding whatever pieces of his flustered state that he could. Joowon really was older than he was, and he didn't mean that literally. Figuratively, the taller man casted an air of maturity, and maybe it came earlier for him because Joowon had a degree in English literature and language, but...Jimin had heard, and knew, that maturity came with a rise from a life changing experience. So, he couldn't help but ponder...what had Joowon gone through? "U-um, hey..."

Out of habit, the older raised a brow. "Yeah?"

"Um...when's the next time, that you're all going out?"

"What?"

"I-I mean, you know," Jimin hesitated, unsure if he was able to carry out his words, but still he tried either way. What could go wrong? "the next time that all of the staff go out for drinks...do you think I could-"

"You want to come along," Joowon interrupted, his reply more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah...if that's okay."

"You're taking the piss, right?"

Raising his head defiantly, slightly out of embarrassment as well, Jimin shook his head. "No! A-and, don't swear in front of the kids." Blank, and gaudily austere, with sternness creeping between his brows Joowon said nothing, and only stared down the smaller man with apprehension. What was happening? Why was he doing that? Had he said something wrong? Something strange? Or were his bangs mangled and untidy? The silence was killing him, slowly and softly, and the ridiculous sphere of unneeded dramatic suspense which bubbled the both of them was gradually getting on Jimin's nerve's. "Joowon?"

Finally, the older man moved, to pocket his hands and to relinquish the quiescence. "Every Friday. We go to a karaoke bar every Friday. The place is just a ten minute walk from here, next to the 7-Eleven." Before Jimin could respond, the bell rung out across the playground, and within the next few seconds hoards of children were spreading across ground and into the school building, like water spilling across a surface. Joowon didn't move, unaffected by the crowds of children who skimmed past them, until he mouthed, "Make sure you're there," and walked into the building with two kids pulling him inside by the sleeves of his dress-shirt.

"Friday," Jimin whispered. Four days away. By then, he would already have made his decision. Or maybe he wouldn't have, and he'd have missed his chance.

Chance...? A chance, for what?

Before he too walked into the school, Jimin turned to face the cold breeze which kissed his ankles and caressed the hidden skin beneath his hands, and he breathed in. Who would he be doing it for anyway? For Jungkook? For himself? Because he missed feeling? Whether he felt bitter, or hurt, anger and fragments of joy, he'd always wanted to feel something; to escape the climbing apathy with resided within the limits of his melancholy and his destitute, Jimin had found solace in succumbing to the darker parts of his head to satiate the id in his unconscious mind, which desired to thrive in any possible way. But how could he? To thrive and live without the man who he had loved wasn't...right. Had he really used Jungkook as a tool, a subject, to remain miserable?

Realistically...would he really ever see Jungkook again?

Could it all really work out? Would everything really be the same as it had been before? Or, was he only living in a cockle of his mind and kidding himself?

"Mr Park?" He turned around and found one of the teachers standing with the back door partially open. "Do you have a lesson?"

Jimin smiled, although it came painfully. "Yeah. I'll be there in a second." And he turned back to face the empty playground. Was his despair really all just in his head? Why had he been the one to stay, and to remember everything which had been lost? There, down a road which ensured even more hurt, or here, where maybe Jimin found wasn't all as bad as it could be.

And he found himself thinking: would it really be worth it?

***
heya. sorry for the mega late update. ive been sick and bedridden, and since the beginning of this fic requires a joyless mindset to become inspired it's been hard to write.

so basically, being kinda happy for once was my downfall. i hope you liked this chapter! thank you for sticking with me. more chapters on the way :)