1

Her eyes fluttered open to a blank white wall that morning, a familiar yet unpleasant warmth pressing on her aching back. 

The couple had agreed that they wouldn't live together so soon, so when Jimin drunkenly suggested sleeping off his exhaustion in Jinhwa's single-sized bed the previous night, she was a little weirded out, to say the least. His own apartment was only a stone's throw down the road anyway, but at 3 AM, her mind was too clouded, her body too weak to care. Plus, the fact that he'd probably been spooning her the whole night to avoid falling off the edge didn't do much to soothe her inner turmoil, especially in the tumbling torridity.

She shuddered violently, her face contorting into an expression of disgust when her nostrils picked up the lingering stench of bitter alcohol on his breath and when her focus landed upon a messy pile of sweat-stained clothes carelessly tossed into the corner of the room. They need to go, she thought, recalling that he'd spent the evening at the dance club the night before, doing what? And with who? Only God knew. 

Jinhwa elongated her neck and turned her head, careful not to stir too much and caught a glimpse of his relaxed sleeping face. Perhaps he was a little too relaxed, judging by the pool of spit accumulating on the pillow beneath his head. She always knew in her heart she could never become the girl he'd always wanted her to be. She wasn't a big fan of public affection, nor did she like the thought of ‘communication’— what Jimin had been endlessly pining for in their relationship. And she couldn't deny that that’d always been the issue. In fact, their private conversations didn't seem to last 20 minutes. What's worse was that it was difficult enough attempting to remember how she got herself into the mess in the first place.  

He was a simple boy in his early twenties, only just discovering the messed-up world that was adult life— not that he had a lot of catching up to do. In their own words, 'sometimes, even when you know something's a mistake, you gotta make it anyway, because that's the way some people learn’. And so they took that life-changing risk, getting together, choosing not to fall into the endless pit of 'lies' everyone else told about the absolute certainty that is a friendship gone irreversibly sour. How little they would come to know. 

Park Jimin had the kind of face that would stop you in your tracks; other girls usually paused everything to steal a second not-so-subtle glance and he looked like he could do no wrong. His dark orbs were beautiful under single eyelids and they seemed to twinkle in a way she'd never seen, despite having already witnessed plenty of nice-looking ones herself. The way his wispy chocolate bangs framed his face and his impeccable sense of style made girls (and the occasional boy; we all know that much) weak in the knees. Nevertheless, he wasn't perfect, but he was just what she wanted for the time being— social accompaniment. Sure, he was a little clumsy sometimes, but she found it entertaining— even a little endearing and he did everything she loved and more.

Jinhwa's tough exterior, on the other hand, did not allow her to fall in love so easily. Despite accepting his handsomeness, she found it impractical to fall in love with a boy whom she only saw as her best friend; a friend she'd trust with her whole body and her life, but unfortunately for Jimin, not her love. Jimin had known this well going in, but he could not for the life of him, comprehend how she could keep her own definitions of ‘love’ and ‘relationship’ so separated and it picked endlessly at the sentimental romantic within him; a part of him he tried so desperately to mask and hold back for the sake of being with her and only her.  

Usually, she found the concept of emotional detachment a difficult thing, her friends would most likely tell you that she often spent too long mulling over useless things that didn't deserve the time. She couldn’t change who she was, but Jimin seemed to have a different effect on her. She could always try, but never find that little sweet spot in her heart reserved for lovers. It was a lost cause, far from salvation.

Jinhwa's hair was a rich shade of burnt umber, flowing in loose waves beside her soft fair skin above eyes bright and round like sparkling marbles. Eventually, he found that when she smiled, the corners of his lips would automatically rise in response and he would smile with her; hell, to him the whole world would've laughed with her. The truth was she was faultless— Jinhwa just couldn't see it for herself and he was determined to help her realisation. Between the two, there was a unique history she shared with nobody else. He wanted to be the one that would be there for her no matter what. The man that would take good care of her when she felt unhappy. He felt himself incredibly lucky to be hugging those curves, kissing those beautiful full lips, even if it seemed like she wasn't enjoying them herself— even when he briefly doubted her emotional capability to love. If only she felt the same way.  

Some days, loving Jinhwa was easy and a little like a sunset by the calm waters of the beach. She loved others so freely and was so comfortable in her own skin. But he'd be lying to you if he'd said they didn't have their bad days. Other days, it was like loving a thunderstorm, so dangerous and unpredictable. Jinhwa was blunt and to the point, and was brash when she needed to be. Like a sudden flash of lightning, her sharp tongue would strike at anytime— the number of times his chest tightened at her words could outnumber people in a crowd. But like anything else so intimidating, there was also a great air of beauty. The girl was no different. 

Jinhwa was my everything. 

But at the same time, 

Jinhwa was nothing at all. 

By then, she'd successfully escaped the grasp of his long arms somehow but stopped everything once she'd seated herself along the edge of the bed to gather her thoughts. The girl was quick to wave off any stray thoughts. From her coat stand, she grabbed a clean bath robe, stealing occasional glances at the sleeping boy behind her. A much needed head-clearing shower was in order. 

His heavy eyelids also blinked open that morning in Jinhwa's room only to be greeted by no one at all. A glance at her hilariously large wall clock by the open door showed a time of 11:02am. Thank goodness it's the weekend, he thought as he rubbed his pain-affected temples at the thought of the previous night, full of nothing but booze and drunken dancing— of course, he couldn't remember much. He’d planned to drown his sorrows, but those damned things had begun to float. Normally, he held himself back, for fear of unintentionally blurting things he shouldn't have, but he let loose that night, not knowing what exactly caused his resolve to completely crumble to the ground. Maybe it was the fact he hadn't seen her face in weeks. Between university and part-time work, her excuses were valid. Or maybe it was the accompanying uncertainty that was constantly eating at him, burning him at the heels. And damn, did it hurt. Does she even love me anymore? 

Jimin frowned at the emptiness of the room in a tee and boxers, at first assuming he'd pissed her off yet again by staying over; he knew she'd said she didn't like to cuddle in bed. We're moving too fast, she'd say.  

that, is 3 years not enough? Does she still not trust me? 

Then, his ears picked up the sound of rushing water through the pipes beneath him and his expressions relaxed just enough to let him settle back into the warmth of the sheets. Jinhwa may not recall it, but it doesn't take much for Jimin to be brought back to the time the chaos started. 

2

He sat on a lonely bench in the park, the cold from the metal permeating through the thin material of his pants. A flick of the wrist tells him the girl is 10 minutes late, but he couldn't care less, the weather was perfect. Glancing up, he seemed to stare at nothing but the wide blue sky and its fluffy grey clouds and for a moment he forgets the little canine yapping in the comfort of his arms. It was a Jack Russell puppy he lovingly named Bell, so small and fragile. Jimin’s heart almost dropped when he received the online bid. Indeed, it was time to bid goodbye. 

“Hi, Jimin-ssi?” 

“Oh— you must be Jinhwa-ssi.” 

“Yep, and this must be Bell!” She cooed. The black and brown puppy wasted no time in leaping into the arms of their new presence. He saw the corners of her lips curl into the most beautiful smile he'd seen, like even beads on a new pearl necklace. “Oh, she's perfect! Have you brought her food too?” 

For some time, there was only silence. That and the pesky squawking of the parrots perched up in their trees. “Er- Jimin-ssi? You ok? You're staring.” 

“Hm?"

"The food?"

"Oh— yes, here. Sorry.” He stuttered as he yanked out a bag of doggy food but it looked as if it could feed Bell for a good month. The boy pushed a hand through the strands of his hair, appearing as though he was deep in thought. He'd be damned if he'd let this opportunity go without a fight. And so he asked her a question, but the answer wasn't quite what he wanted to hear. 

“My boyfriend and I have just separated, so yeah, thought I'd get a dog.” She smiled even brighter, though that longing look in her eyes didn't go by unnoticed. 

Just when he thought he wouldn't go on with the plan, she continued. “You free for a coffee? Maybe you could teach me some tips and tricks! I'll buy.” 

Thinking back, no matter the situation, there was no way in hell he'd say ‘no’. As far as his fish memories would allow, he recalled telling her things he'd never tell another soul and absorbed everything that came out of her delicate lips, actually hungry to hear more. He'd shared his dreams and deepest fears with her and anytime anything even remotely exciting happened, he couldn't wait to let her know. With Jinhwa, Jimin felt like he could finally be himself instead of the facade he'd put up in front of others— blame socially-set standards. There was strength, even within weakness. There was no inhibition, no fear, even when common sense told him he should never feel so strongly this way about another individual. 

Needless to say, things progressed. Though almost painfully slow, things were better than they'd even been. What in the world happened? They saw each other frequently. Jinhwa even went onto become ‘the most awesome chef on the street’ whipping up magnificent meals everyday, no matter how angry Jimin had made her that day; he loved that about her. 

Jimin had hoped to goodness their honeymoon period would never, ever end. But it did. And it wasn't pretty. 

For a while, he wondered if he had had enough, whether or not he should've ended things with her, whatever they were, but he didn't. The poor boy was already in neck-deep. Jinhwa blamed university-related stress and work for her absence, and with the little time they were together, he gave more than he took. He blocked out everything and only concentrated on her. 

Nevertheless, like any other state of empty happiness, it never lasted and he was beginning to feel that it was tearing him apart instead, forcing him to make a choice he'd been desperately avoiding. Maybe he should've said something, anything at all. Because maybe then he wouldn't have felt so crummy. But he couldn't, not even with the little pride he had left. It was already pitiful enough that he'd hung around for so long, like little Bell on a leash going ‘round in circles. 

Since then, it'd been a year. A whole year. Three hundred and sixty-five days and he was feeling more doubtful than a stockbroker in the GFC. Worse, he felt it was going to be some time before they could figure anything out. For now, he could only sit tight and attempt to deal with anything new that came his way.  

As much as he wanted to deny it, it was a miserable twelve months spent pretending there wasn't a problem when really, it was right there, staring them both in the face. Jimin tried to keep his mind off things and instead focused on his studies, picking up a guitar or a microphone to practise day in, day out. He hated himself for the timid person he was for keeping quiet. Truth was, the boy was exhausted. More tired than he'd ever been. Tired of the relationship. Tired of her. Tired of this . But he couldn't stay away. Between sleepless nights and the constant stress of a broken couple, it was no wonder he’d lost weight.  

3

“, it's only been a year since I've seen you and it looks like you’ve been dragged through the freaking dirt.” His brother exclaimed at the sight of the boy’s eye bags darkening beyond purple, his hair sticking in clumps like his head hadn’t seen the wet end of a shower head in days. “What the hell happened?” 

“Yoongi, I—I really don’t need this right now.” He spoke, but his voice cracked as if he hadn’t in weeks. He’d shut the door on his own brother if it weren’t for his little foot wedged in between it and the wall. “Just— go, please.” 

“Where’s Jinhwa?” 

The air thickened around them and his body unmistakenably froze in it. His brain no longer knew how to process that name or even how to react to it. Instead, it went haywire and he shook his head from side to side. “Don’t- don’t mention that name.” 

That was the last straw in Yoongi's books. “What the  did she do, Jimin?” 

“I—I can’t-” His voice was shaky; he would’ve missed his whisper in any other setting. Yoongi had crossed the threshold to the apartment, standing in the centre of the living room, but he didn’t need to turn back to the door to know that his younger brother was trembling.  

“She still live in Incheon?” 

Jimin was hesitant, but he nodded, then absolutely freaked when Yoongi rushed towards the front door. “Hyung, wha-what’re you doing?” 

Yoongi had tuned out. He heard his brother’s words, but they didn’t resonate.  

With an order from his older brother to stay within the apartment, the door slammed shut in Jimin's face with a bang that bounced off the four walls around him. And that’s what he did. He didn't move. His interior had frozen over— he no longer cared for the girl he once loved with all his heart. There was no pain, no anguish— just numbness. In fact— everything was numb.

No clues as to what happened that night at Jinhwa's, but what Jimin expected last was her face at his door the next night. 

DING DONG. DING DONG. 

She was relentless, but he could be just as stubborn when he wanted to be. 

“Jimin!” Her booming voice carried down muffled through the hallways. “I know you’re home and I know it’s late. Just open the door, please?” 

KNOCK KNOCK. BANG BANG. 

“We both need closure, don’t we?” Her strong voice had faltered. “I need closure, Jimin!” 

Closure. Closure. Yes, I need closure. 

He put one foot in front of the other on the plush carpet, dragging a finger along the white walls until he reached the entrance, the object of his depressed thoughts on the other side. With a pause, the door swung open, but he almost couldn’t believe the sight before him. Time seemed to stop right there. The girl wasn’t looking much better than he was, her skin more pasty than she’d ever been, perhaps more so than Yoongi. More silence. 

“I—I’m not happy, Jimin.” Her red eyes wept, talking through raw sobs as if it pained her to part her lips, like salt in an open wound. “I can’t sleep at night.” 

“Neither can I.” 

“I feel like I’m even lonelier with you. I can’t find the energy to keep this up anymore. I mean, if we—" 

“—Don’t vibrate to the same frequency, then there’s no use wasting our time.” He continued her sentence, calm and collected. “I’ve read that article too.” 

His mind wandered. He hadn’t imagined their last meeting would happen this way, there was so much more he had in mind, so many swear words he wanted to use, so much rage. But things change. That red hot fury had died down forever. 

“What happened to us, Jimin?” 

“I don’t need to understand what happened anymore. We were good together once, but that's no longer the case. We have our closure, Jinhwa… you can go.” And with those words, the dark, bitter hate that had been lingering had dispersed, somewhat. He wouldn't deny the pain still hanging onto the backdoor of his heart, but it was nothing short of magical. 

Her broken gasps had finally calmed and she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her top. “No hard feelings?” 

“... None at all.” 

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