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taleasnewastime · 1 year ago

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All that remains | Part 1

[ PART THREE TO GROWING PAINS ]

Summary: You betrayed them all, acted on your own selfishness; will Jimin ever forgive you?

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: Unrequited love; brothers’ best friend; slow burn; mafia au; angst

Word count: 7.4k

Warnings: Angsty feelings, unrequited feelings, mentions of death, blood, depression, mentions of a slight alcohol problem, drinking alcohol, feelings of being alone and isolated

Authors note: Sorry this has taken so long, and thank you for sticking around and waiting for this. Not as long as others in the series but there is more to come! Possibly a slow start but I promise that there is lots more to come and things will start heating up in no time. Part 2 won't take as long!!

Masterlist | Next

THREE MONTHS AND TWELVE DAYS LATER

The cold hits you as you exit the café. Turning, you lock the door, checking you’ve remembered to turn all the lights off. You managed to get this job not long after everything fell apart, climbing up to assistant manager quickly. It’s not your dream job, not the best pay and you could definitely get something better, but the job isn’t stressful, you don’t mind the people, it pays the bills and it’s all you need right now. You don’t want to lose this job because you forgot to turn the lights off.

The evening is dark. Beams of light coming from the streetlights. The weather’s turning cold, but you’re thankful it’s not raining like it does seemingly every day recently. It’s reflecting your mood. Dark, moody, just generally down. There are few days at the moment when you feel happy.

It’s been months since the police raid, tipped off by you with enough solid evidence to bring the organisation down. Months since your brother got locked away. Months since your whole life changed. Months since you betrayed everyone who raised you.

It’s just you and Jungkook now. The two of you supporting yourselves. In the same city just in a different part to the house you were raised in. The two of you barely scrapping by.

Oh, and Jimin.

Not working, hardly talking and barely showing his face. You and Jungkook working to support three, like some dysfunctional family. You’re struggling, only just keeping your heads above water. The flat you live in is old and cold, just enough space to squeeze the three of you in. On the sixth floor of a building with no elevator. Your neighbour’s people who the government have forgotten. People living on the margins, with little education and hardly any income, people just trying to survive like you, many of them people you’d avoid at all cost, as dangerous as people you’d meet in the gang only now you hold no status.

You take a breath when you get to the bottom of the steps to your building, mentally preparing for the six flights of steps to come and the lonely flat after that. The damp, the cold, the loneliness, hardly things to look forward to. You hate it, but it’s all you can afford and for the roof it provides you’re happy enough.

“Hello?” You call out into the quiet flat getting no reply.

Unsurprising, though you wonder if you truly are home alone. Jungkook will be out at work, either the personal trainer job or working security at a new club in town. Jimin will probably be holed up in his room doing you don’t know what.

You sigh as you head to the kitchen, routing through the freezer for something to heat up. There are only a few things to eat, nothing exciting but you’re too tired to cook anything.

Life isn’t any better, it’s not any easier, it’s not sunshine and rainbows. Your plan worked. Now you just need to try and get on with life. You knew this would be the outcome, you didn’t expect a life of luxury, you just didn’t quite expect this. The quietness. The monotonous days. The barely scraping by. The loneliness.

It’s been months since everything went down. Months since you ratted to the police, used your leverage in the gang to bring them down. You backstabbed them all, just like they did to you all those years ago. And while your plan paid off, you got what you wanted, you don’t feel complete satisfaction.

It was never something you planned. Or at least you never sat down and plotted it all out. The idea itself manifested over the years, grew from a simple conversation. It was never something you thought you’d do, more a fantasy than reality.

It was Jungkook’s idea originally. A seed he planted in your mind that grew the more distance you had, the longer you had to think it over.

You felt so alone, for so long and then Jungkook appeared. Seeped into your life so thoroughly that you no longer felt as lonely. You’d never trusted anyone enough to tell them your story, but for some reason Jungkook was different. Maybe it was because he was from a similar background, maybe it was because he made you feel less alone or maybe it was just as simple as him listening to you. Whatever it was, piece by piece, it all started to come out of you. Slowly at first, and then one night when you’d had a little bit too much to drink, all at once.

It was Jungkook that planted the seed, a mere comment about how he heard a company going down because of a whistle-blower. The CEO was bullying its staff, guilt tripping them into staying later than they should and never being happy with the outcome of work. Not comparable to your gang or situation at all. But it was that comment that blossomed everything.

For months that turned into years you mulled over the thought. Whistle-blower. Someone on the inside who knows everything that’s going on and reports it. Reports wrongdoings. Can take down the company with mere words.

Your bitterness rotted over time to hatred which quickly turned to vengeance. The fact you had little contact with anyone only made it worse. Sure, it was your father who instigated it, but you’d have thought there would be one person on your side. And even though your brother contacted you, it was so infrequent with so little information that it felt like he needn’t have bothered. It felt like he was doing it as another job, contacting you because he had to not because he wanted to. You resented him; for having it all, for not helping you, for letting you leave, for not standing up to your father.

Whistle-blower. A much nicer word than grass, snitch or rat. Just a word, but a word that made you think maybe you could do it.

You knew so much. And yet part of you knew you’d never do it.

And then you got the call, your father was dead.

Even as you flew back home, the thought still in your mind, you didn’t think you’d go through with it. The funeral was cold, everyone avoiding you as if you were infected. Your meeting with Yoongi didn’t make you feel any better. He wanted proof, wanted you to show he could trust you as if everything you had done up until that point wasn’t enough. Your whole life was to appease them, everything you did was to make them happy. And it was then that you realised that nothing you could do would be good enough. Even if you gave Yoongi proof you doubted he would ever truly welcome you into the family.

Hearing Jimin scream about wanting you out only sealed the deal. If they didn’t want you, you’d show them where they could stick it, show them how strong you could be.

You knew they would be arrogant enough to think you’d want back in, that you’d do anything if it meant you’d get your place alongside them. All you needed to do was play along. Because who wouldn’t want to be part of what they had? No matter how they treated you, no matter how you grew, they’d always think your feelings would remain the same.

But you did grow, you did change. And you realised Jimin was right. The gang wasn’t what you dreamed it was. It wasn’t your family, it wasn’t the only option you had. It didn’t want you. And now you didn’t want it.

Jungkook did most of the work because you weren’t stupid enough to be meeting the police when you were supposed to be looking into your father’s death. He did other things when he drifted off in the mornings on his own, but a lot of the time he was feeding information and planning how best to raid the gang. It was you who suggested that if you found out who the killer was you could line it all up, get the confrontation to be in a place the police could surround.

You knew it was a risk, had been told by everyone who knew what you were doing that it was a risk. They wouldn’t be able to get them all and even if they did, they wouldn’t charge them all. People would know it was you or would be able to connect the dots given long enough. It was a risk to your life and yet you still decided to do it.

After it all went down, the police gave you protection for a bit. Helped get you onto your feet, some money so you could afford a small but relatively safe flat and a rotation of plain clothed officers outside. But when weeks went by with no threats they were quick to decide it was a waste of their money and resources and you were safe. Sure, you helped them, you were key in them getting the evidence to bring the gang down. But the deal was always two sided, they always knew that there was something in it for you, even if that was some sick satisfaction in bringing down your own family.

Is it worse that you did all of this because of revenge, or would it have been worse if you’d been paid off by the police to do it?

And now it’s all done.

But was it worth it? All you have now is a crappy flat you share with Jungkook who you hardly see and Jimin who actively avoids you. A job that barely gets you by. A brother in jail because you put him there. A guilt that will stay with you forever.

No family, barely any friends. You’ve never felt so lonely.

Eyes still half closed from sleep; you look up to wish Jungkook a good morning. Only when you look up it’s not Jungkook you see.

The clattering and movement you heard was Jimin. The guy that lives with you but that you’ve only seen in passing or heard through walls in the past month. Now stood in front of you. Just like you he’s stood staring back at you, only rather than the shock and spark of joy you feel in seeing him, he only looks mildly annoyed back at you.

“Hi,” you say after a long pause, voice breathy even as you try to act normal.

He doesn’t reply, just stares at you for a second more before twisting to look back at the coffee he was making.

Ok, you think, taking a breath before you walk further into the room. The joy still remains, just a little dampened.

“Did you want food with that?” You ask. “I brought some pastries home yesterday from the café. They’re in the bread bin.”

You’re not even sure Jimin’s aware you work in a café, that that’s the wage that’s keeping you all a float, or at least is with the help of Jungkook. And now, Jimin doesn’t say anything or do anything to suggest he cares. His back muscles tense below his top, his shoulders hunched and his face looking resolutely down at the coffee machine.

Deciding he’s not going to give you anything else you move to the bread bin of your own accord. You know he hates you, know he’s probably wishing he weren’t here right now, but he is and you’re not going to let the opportunity pass.

“Well, I’m going to have one,” you mutter, still putting fake happiness into your tone as if to try and prove that this situation isn’t bothering you.

Your eyes keep flicking to Jimin when he’s no longer in your direct line of site. You can still hear him making the coffee and yet you’re worried he’ll disappear into thin air. You can’t blame him for the way he’s acting, part of you is annoyed at him, still hates him and yet you’re worried about him. It’s not good for him to be cooped up for so long, it’s not normal nor healthy. And yet you can’t get him to even look at you.

You wish Jungkook were here. He’d know what to do or say. And maybe Jimin would talk to him.

Pulling two plates out, you place a pastry on each. Awkwardly you turn and place one of them between you and Jimin. It’s not close to him, he’ll have to reach out and get it if he wants it. Worse than that, you imagine, is that he’ll have to turn back in your direction.

Sighing, the happiness getting harder to keep hold of, you decide that it’s not worth sticking around for. He doesn’t want you here. If you can give him anything, then at least you can do that.

“I’ll just,” you mutter, pausing only for a second before grabbing your plate and shuffling to the door. Words you want to say get lodged in your throat and you have to force yourself not to look back at him.

Maybe he is better off without you.

“The usual?”

A smile threatens to lift on the man’s lips. “Do I come here that often?”

“I think the question should be, am I that predictable?”

The man chuckles, his eyes dancing away from you before coming back when he’s controlled the noise. “Well, I already know the answer to that.”

“Black coffee and a croissant then?”

He hums, his eyes going to the counter which holds all the cakes as you start to type in his order.

“Which is your favourite?”

You pause and look at him, he waits with that same smile on his lips. You find your own eyes going to the cakes. No one’s asked that before, no one’s particularly interested in you. Sure, customers ask you questions and take an interest but there’s something about this guy. It’s not weird, just … different.

“Uh,” you pause, trying to keep the smile on your lips. “I like the lemon drizzle.”

He smiles at you, again not weird but something about it makes you uneasy. Especially when he just smiles and doesn’t say anything. You put it down to be an odd customer, maybe he’s lonely. Or maybe it’s you. So unused to someone being interested in you that you’re putting the blame on him rather than on yourself.

He moves to the end of the counter and watches as you prepare his coffee and then pick out a croissant.

“Here you go,” you plaster a smile on your lips as you hand over his coffee and pastry.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he says, eyes darting to your name badge and back.

You heart stutters as you watch him leave. Just a harmless man but you always read into things since leaving. Everyone you meet knows who you are, everyone who looks at you the wrong way wants you dead. Despite leaving the gang in your past, you can’t help but still live that way. Always defensive, always thinking the worst in people. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to shake it off.

“I have an idea,” Jungkook says it casually, but you can hear the note of edge in his voice. He’s expecting you to ask what the idea is but when you don’t enquire he’s forced to carry on. “So, uh, Colin at work mentioned that Ed might be leaving because his ex-contacted him, the one that moved to Scotland, and they were asking if –” Jungkook cuts himself off when he sees your face, realising he’s giving too much detail and not getting to the point. “Anyway, Ed’s leaving so I mentioned to my manager that I might know someone who’d be good for the job.”

You still don’t speak, you think you know what he’s saying from this, but you want to hear him spell it out. For a few seconds there’s a stalemate of silence, Jungkook not wanting to spell it out, you not wanting to assume.

“He needs to get out of the house, he needs to do something,” he’s finally turned to look at you, giving you his full attention.

“You don’t need to plead with me,” you say earning an eye roll. “He’s not going to take it.”

There’s a pause and when Jungkook talks his tone is hesitant, “but, you’ll still ask?”

You can read the meaning behind the words, you caused this, you need to sort it out. There’s no way to argue with that. You did create this mess and you dragged Jungkook into it. He’s at least done something to try and help out. It sounds like you have to do the rest.

“We can’t keep living like this. Only the two of us supporting all three of us. Only just scraping by. He needs to pull his –”

“I get it,” you cut him off. Gritting your teeth, you force your lips into a smile as you narrow your eyes at him. “I’ll ask.”

Jungkook waits, sizes you up as if he can read whether you’re going to do it or not. You’re not sure when your relationship became like this, stilted, forced. Maybe in the gaps between seeing each other. Or maybe when you dragged him over here just to blow everything up. Or maybe it was when he felt the expectation not to leave you, to stay with you and help you through this mess, ruining his own life as well as your own.

You miss him. But just like everything else in your life right now, you don’t know what to do to get him back. You can barely keep your own head above water, how are you supposed to think of anything else?

Taking a small breath, loosening your face so you’re not so tense, you say in a voice that’s more certain, “I’ll ask him.”

Jungkook’s features soften the same way yours do. He nods before walking towards you.

“He’ll come around,” he says, hand going to your shoulder and squeezing gently. “I’ll see you later.”

You swallow, nod even though he’s not looking at you and then mutter, “have a nice day.”

You don’t want to do this. Really don’t want to do this.

It’s just a door. All you have to do is reach a hand out, form a fist and knock. Simple. But it’s who might come to the door that terrifies you, what they might do when they answer the door, or more what they won’t do.

Taking a breath, you knock on the door.

You hear the footsteps, your heart pounding to the same beat they walk. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, Jimin stood staring expectantly at you. Voice caught in your throat it’s him that breaks the silence.

“Want a squash?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just brushes past you leaving you standing outside his door. Heart still pounding, blood swirling in your ears you take a second before following. Jimin’s already pouring an inch of squash into a pint glass when you get to the kitchen, no sight of a glass for you.

Stood like a spare part you watch Jimin’s back as he fills his glass with water and then takes a long gulp. Feeling awkward and conscious that you left this conversation until the last possible moment before you need to go to work, you head to the fridge. Almost unseeing you pick out the first thing your fingers land on.

Hip leaning on the counter, Jimin’s dark eyes follow you as you walk around the room, first for a plate, then for a chair at the small breakfast bar that couples as the only place to eat in the flat.

“You wanted to tell me something?” He asks the second you take your first bite of food.

Chewing slowly, you mull over the words while also not wanting to give him too much time to walk out and not speak to you again. It’s the first time it’s occurred to you that maybe Jimin already knows what this is about. It’s a small flat, the walls not exactly thick and you and Jungkook weren’t being careful to stop him overhearing the other day. The fact he might already know what you’re about to suggest only makes you more nervous.

“Jungkook mentioned there’s a job going at his place,” you speak to your food rather than Jimin but when he doesn’t reply you flick your eyes to look up at him.

The glass of squash is empty on the counter next to him. His arms crossed against his chest. His face still broody and eyes half lidded looking at you. You fight the urge to look away from him. There was once a time you took down a whole gang. You can take on Jimin.

“The hours aren’t ideal, but the pays ok,” your voice comes out steady, you’ve always been good at hiding your true feelings behind a mask of indifference. “Jungkook thinks he can get it for you, but he wanted to ask –”

“So why didn’t he?”

It surprises you, makes your heart ache a little how flatly he says it. Still, you hold yourself together. “Because he’s at work. He asked me to pass the message on.”

He hums, a short, unimpressed noise. A noise that makes you twist to take another bite of food. It tastes like sand in your mouth.

“Would you just say it?” You mutter, the ache caused by your heart making you hot headed. You look back at Jimin seeing it’s his time to be surprised. “You clearly have stuff you want to say. So would you just say it already?”

It doesn’t take much convincing. You can see one of his fingers tapping on his crossed arms, his jaw tight.

“You betrayed us, Y/N, why would I ever trust you again?”

“I betrayed you? Jimin, you were the one who always said you wanted out. I got you out.”

“At the cost of my best friend? At the cost of the people who I classed as my family losing everything? At the cost of me losing everything? You think I wanted that?”

It hurts and you don’t point out that he hasn’t lost you, that surely that’s something; because clearly it’s not. Clenching your teeth, you just focus on not showing him your emotions. You didn’t expect your decision to be popular, but you could have let him go down with the rest of them, you thought that would have amounted to something, you thought that would have confirmed some of your feelings you had for him were still there.

“You betrayed your own family, Y/N,” he’s looking at you as if he doesn’t recognise you and it breaks you that much more.

You didn’t want to fight with him. You expected him to be angry with you, to say things that upset you, you just thought you’d be able to take it better than you are. But it all hits you. The emotions long bottled inside you finally come crashing out.

“My family?” You bite, frowning at the words, your hurt boiling down into frustration. “What family, Jimin? Tell me when they ever treated me like family? Was it when they forced me out, or when they refused to welcome me back? Maybe it was when they failed to recognise the fact that even as a woman I could do as much as them?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t reply verbally. It tells you everything. He has no argument against anything you’ve just said. And yet he still defends them.

“I’m not expecting a thank you. I don’t expect you to necessarily forgive me, but come on, you need to move on at some point. I’m doing all of this, giving you a home, the least you can do is contribute a little.” Or just leave, you add in your head.

A nerve ticks in his jaw. Despite his words and the way he now looks at you, you still feel hope. He doesn’t have anywhere to go, but if he hated you that much he could have left by now. He’s not contributing anything to this household, but at least he’s still here.

Still, you worry about him. Despite your words, you don’t want him to leave. You hardly see him, and yet if he wasn’t here you think that would be your breaking point.

“Let me know what you want to do about the job,” you sigh the words as you stand from the table.

Taking the bowl to the sink you place it with the rest of the dirty dishes, knowing you’ll have to clean them later but not having the energy to do it now. With Jungkook working two jobs and Jimin clearly not wanting to be here it always falls on you. You try and not let it get to you but sometimes you wonder if all of this was a mistake. Maybe you should have stayed away. Maybe you should never have come back.

As you turn to leave Jimin speaks, stopping you.

“There’s just one thing I keep wondering,” you wait for him to say it, your features hard so as not to betray your feelings. “Why did you come back for me? Why did you get me out?”

Your focus is on the door rather than him. You’ve been expecting this, not least because you’ve been questioning it yourself. Even Jungkook brings it up at any opportunity he can.

“Because you wanted out,” you say and before you can think better of it, carry on. “And honestly, Jimin, at this point if you don’t know why, then you clearly don’t know me at all.”

Before he can come back with anything you carry on towards the door. You’ve got things you need to be doing, even if Jimin doesn’t, you’re trying to get back into a normal life.

“Let me know if you want that job.”

Your life becomes monotonous. A drag of waking up early to clean the flat, heading off to work and doing long shifts, coming home to a quiet house that is mess of dishes and clothes again, a storm left behind in Jungkook and Jimin’s wake. You don’t berate Jungkook, he’s doing so much for you that you can tolerate cleaning up after him. But some days that thought doesn’t make it any easier. You couldn’t complain to Jimin if you wanted to, still hardly ever see him.

It’s lonely, boring, a life you never thought you’d have. And yet here you are.

You carry on going only because of Jungkook and Jimin. Though you never see them, you feel like you’re why they’re here. If you hate this, then they surely hate it. You caused this, the least you could is not abandon them.

Slowly, you open up to people at work. Enough that you can have small conversations with them on breaks, but not enough that they know anything significant about you. They’re still more co-workers than friends. But it’s nice to have people in your life to talk to even if it is mainly about the weather and their lives.

It’s repetitive. Boring. Lonely. And you start to find the only thing that helps is a glass of wine in the evenings. Not much, but even the small amount of alcohol helps take the edge off. It helps your mind become quieter, helps the day feel less long, helps you actually look forward to something. It helps your heart stop aching. Helps you drift off to sleep a little easier.

“So, uh, I have to tell you something.”

“What?” You ask as you shove the jam covered slice of toast into your mouth, only half listening to Jungkook as you pour a cup of tea.

“Can you sit for a minute?”

“I have to get to the shop for opening.”

“Y/N,” he doesn’t say it sharply, but the tone he uses is still enough to get you to look at him. “It’ll only take a minute. Please, will you just sit?”

It does its job, you finally stop long enough to look at him. You hadn’t realised just how nervous he was. He’s holding it together but you can see it in his tense shoulders and stiff posture. Your nerves peak as you place your toast on a plate and stop pouring your tea. You don’t rush to sit down, your mind whirling with thoughts of what he could possibly be about to tell you.

“You’re worrying me,” you say when Jungkook doesn’t immediately spit it out.

“It’s nothing. Well, it’s not. But it’s good.”

“Ok?”

He pauses, the silence only increasing the sick feeling in your stomach, only increasing the amount of thoughts swimming around your head. You’re about to tell him to hurry up but he beats you to it.

“I met someone,” he rushes to say. “A girl. And she’s asking me to move in with her.”

A wave of emotions run over you. Surprise, since when did that happen? Anger, because moving in with someone is a big thing, which means he must have been hiding this from you for a while. Hurt, that he didn’t talk to you, that he hid this from you. And a sad happiness for him. Because although he looks worried you can see the hope and desire there, he wants your approval for this but worries you won’t give it.

“Who is she?”

“A girl I met at work.”

“And you know her well enough to be moving in together?”

He’s flushed but keeps a straight face. “I met her my first day, but we only started dating a few months ago.”

Months. Your heart drops with the information. Because he never told you about it, because he has more of a life than you, because it only solidifies how lonely you are. He’s your family and he’s only telling you about his girlfriend, someone he likes enough to be moving in with, months after they met. You once would have been the first person he told. He once would have been too excited to keep the information from you. You once would have been too observant for him to even try and hide something like this from you.

And just like that, more walls of your life crumble around you.

Heart beating in your throat you try not to show him your emotions. It’s been easy to hide how depressed you’ve felt recently from him, more because you hardly see him, but you’re also a master at hiding behind a mask. Now, you have to turn away from him to hide your face, a sure fire way to tell him just how you feel.

Predictably, you hear him take a step in your direction, “it won’t change –”

“I know,” you curse your tight throat as another give away.

“I’ll come back all the time,” he adds. “I can still help you with bills.”

“Don’t be stupid,” you say before taking a deep breath and looking back at him, forcing a smile onto your lips. “I’m happy for you.”

He doesn’t look convinced. But before he can continue to protest you carry on.

“You don’t need my permission.”

“But I’d like it,” he says, slipping into your old roles. “There’s not enough room for me here and we can’t all live here together forever. But I also don’t want to leave you here. I know you’re struggling but we all need to move on from what’s happened.”

Move on from the mess you made. Move on from the betrayal. If everything had gone to plan you would have moved on, or at least Jungkook would have. Jimin would have been behind bars. You would have been on your own wallowing the same way you are now. Maybe there was a small part of you that hoped you’d be able to move on too, to make something of yourself, to start a new life. But a large part of you knew this would be your life. You at least imagined you’d be able to pretend, push your thoughts down deep, try to not think of your brother and Jimin locked up all day, of Jungkook moving on.

Jungkook has only stuck around so long because you changed plans, because you went back for Jimin. Jungkook deserves to go live his life.

“You think leaving me and Jimin here alone is a good thing?” You feel guilty as soon as you say the words.

He shrugs, avoids your eyes as he says, “maybe it’ll help bring you closer.”

You glare at him. “He barely leaves his room.”

“Maybe you should force him out a bit more.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

You regret the words instantly, but even though Jungkook has time to flash you a cheeky smile, you don’t have time to interrupt him before he says, “I can think of several things that you could do to get Jimin out of that room.”

“Gross,” you say flatly, pushing past him. “If you’re saying all of this to get me to tell you to leave, it’s working.”

There’s a small chuckle behind you, but there’s no smile on your lips now. Your heart still thumps in your throat.

You’re happy for him, really you are. It’s just sad. You can’t help but feel like everyone’s slipping away from you.

It’s no good, with Jungkook gone it fixes nothing between you and Jimin.

Jungkook visits still but it’s not the same. While he’s getting on with his life, creating something new, you’re still stuck. In a different place, under different circumstances but going nowhere. And now you don’t have anyone.

You grow lonelier. Hardly seeing anyone besides the people at work. Inside your own head more only makes things worse. Gives you time to remember how things used to be, how different it is now. It makes you remember the smiles. Because life wasn’t always bad, there were good times.

And you ruined it all.

You brought this on you. You couldn’t get over the fact your family didn’t want you and you destroyed it for everyone. There’s no pretending that there wasn’t good from it, that you were helping people as much as ruining many people’s lives. But it was selfish, you did it all for you. And now you can’t help but wonder if it was worth it.

To be in this tiny flat, barely getting by. With Jungkook moved out and moving on. Hardly seeing Jimin, the little you do he says little and avoids your gaze. Your brother in jail. You have no one.

And still you get up every day. Still you clean and cook and go to work. You try to carry on with your life as best you can. Try to push the bad thoughts away. Try and pretend life is normal.

Jimin’s door is open when you get home. It feels like slow motion as you walk to the door frame and creak open the door and peer in. Empty.

This is it, you think, he’s finally left me.

Your eyes glance around the small room. A single bed, blue sheets crisp and neatly tucked in. Cream shades pulled down over the window to block the night out. A wooden chest of draws leaving enough room to shuffle between it and the bed. A small desk, only big enough for a lamp and laptop. No personality. No indication of who lives here. No attachment, ready to be left at the drop of a hat.

He wouldn’t leave, would he? Part of you thinks he would. But the other part thinks of his room, all of his stuff still sat in there and thinks he wouldn’t leave without it. Another part hopes he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

Maybe he’s just gone out, the first time you’ve caught him doing that, you expect because he only ever risks leaving his room when he knows he won’t see you. But Jungkook text you earlier letting you know Jimin finally accepted the job, so maybe this is the start of him getting back into himself.

You know it’s your insecurities talking. Because though you don’t doubt Jimin doesn’t wants to be here, you also know he has nowhere else to go. He doesn’t have the money from his job yet, he’s still having to rely on you.

You walk back to the kitchen, get as far as opening the fridge to see what you can find to eat for tea. But you stop there. A thought occurs to you.

It’s stupid really. He’s probably just gone out for food or to the pub. But you can’t stop thinking about it when the thought occurs.

What if he’s on the roof?

He won’t be. And even if he is what would that mean? That he wanted some fresh air probably. But he won’t even be there.

You take a box of leftovers out of the fridge walk over and place it by the microwave but get no further.

What if he’s on the roof?

The thought takes you over enough that you end up forgetting about food and instead head to the front door again. You don’t even put your coat on as you head up the stairs rather than down them. You feel a little out of breath when you reach the steel door at the top. Pausing you take a breath, try to wrangle your thumping heart into a box, settle your expectations so that you won’t be disappointed.

The door feels cold as you push it open. Your heart plumets when you first see empty space, but then soars when you see a figure huddled off to the side. You can’t stop the words escaping your mouth.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Jimin looks across at you, his eyes are heavy and make him look like he’s had little sleep. His smile is small and compared to his normal smile does nothing to light up his face. But it’s still a smile.

“It’s not quite the same as our roof.”

Our roof. The words make your breath catch in your throat. Looking out at the night to hide your emotions at the words you walk towards him until you can rest on the ledge next to him.

“The views not as good,” you agree after a few seconds of silence.

He hums in reply, a silence falling over the two of you. It’s not just the view that’s different, it’s everything. The silence eats at you in a way it never has before when you’ve been with Jimin. He’s lost his spark and you can’t help but blame yourself for that. You’ve changed his life, whether or not it’s for the better you made such a monumental decision on his behalf without considering how it might affect him. While you’re in no doubt he would have done the same for you, you can’t help but let the decision eat away at you. Should you have done it? Would it be better if you hadn’t dragged him away under false pretence? Would it be easier for him to hate you if he wasn’t sat next to you?

“Jungkook told me you’d accepted the job at the club,” you say meekly, not wanting to rock the boat too much. “I’m happy for you.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, doesn’t hum or nod like he normally does when you talk to him these days. And like always you try and pretend it doesn’t hurt you.

“And hey, maybe it’ll mean you can start paying towards the bills.”

As soon as the words leave your lips you regret them. Even though you say them in a light-hearted tone, clearly as a joke, you know Jimin won’t hear it that way. He’s probably thinking that you mean it, that you want him to give you money, that you want him gone. All of which is the opposite of what you want.

“Sorry I –”

“No,” he cuts you off with a mutter. “You’re right, I should be doing more.”

Well shit.

That was the last thing you expected him to say, which effectively stops your brain from coming up with any other words.

The two of you stand in silence looking out at the city. The noise of the road and some young people shouting and laughing reaches you from the street below. Part of you hates this, but another part doesn’t want to do anything to stop it. At least Jimin’s here. At least you’re not entirely alone. At least you’re not fighting.

“I went to see Yoongi.”

Your head snaps his way. When did he do that? How had he done that? The questions forms in your head but your mouth is unable to create the words. Jimin doesn’t look at you, his features not showing any emotions. He’s impossible to read. But, despite your silence, he must know what questions you want to ask as he goes on to answer them all.

“I found out where they locked him up and requested visitation. I wasn’t expecting it to be accepted, I thought the second they had him they’d throw away the key. It took a few weeks, but my request was accepted.”

Your breath becomes laboured. Your brain working faster than Jimin can get the words out, trying to second guess what he’s going to say.

In the pause after his words he finally turns to look at you. His eyes dart around your face as if trying to remember you. You wait, give him time to say whatever it is he’s thinking. Your heart hoping, but your mind reminding you how much you’ve hoped in the past and how every time Jimin’s let you down.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Now it’s you avoiding his face. The words, the way he says them and the gentle yet pained look on his face makes your throat dry. You can’t answer him. You don’t know what he wants you to say, because even if you had an answer, you don’t know how it would make it better.

“You let me think this whole time you’d locked him up,” he carries on. “But you made a plea deal for him.”

It’s not a question but you still find yourself nodding in confirmation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He repeats.

“I wasn’t sure he’d accept the deal,” you say, not the real answer. After a beat you add, “would it have changed anything?”

“Maybe,” he mutters but you know it’s a lie. It wouldn’t have changed anything, it’s one of the reasons you never said anything.

The silence drags out. Both of you staring out at the world below you, cars honking, people getting on with their lives, buildings standing steady and tall. The world hasn’t changed, it’s still going on. It doesn’t provide any comfort. All these weeks you’ve been struggling, silently getting on with life and Jimin’s been seeing Yoongi and clinging onto your old life, blaming you for everything.

You’ve had enough of it.

“You know,” you say, ignoring the fact that your voice his raspy and full of emotion. “It still hurts that you don’t believe in me. It’s stupid, because you’d think I’d be used to it by now, but you really have a knack for making be me believe you. I could have told you about Yoongi, but would that have changed anything? You’re only saying all this because you feel guilty, but you’ve always thought the bare minimum of me until I’ve proved the opposite. I’ve always had to work for your approval, Jimin, no matter what you want to think. And it’s stupid, but it still breaks me when you automatically think the worst of me. After everything I’ve done to show you the opposite.” You pause, still unable to look at Jimin, unable to see what he must be thinking. “I didn’t know he would accept it,” you mutter, voice once again thick. “I set up the option for him to work with the police, but I didn’t think he’d actually take it.”

You push away from the wall and as you walk away Jimin doesn’t try to stop you. His head twists to look back out across the city, his body slumping a little deeper into the wall as you turn to walk back to the flat.

#icymi

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taleasnewastime · 1 year ago

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Is it irrational to want to buy Divine Rivals as the UK cover even though I own the US cover already just so when book 2 comes out I have a matching set …?

#just seen it for £7.50 on tiktok #which I’m not sure I trust #but it’s also so cheap #this is my toxic trait #random rambles

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