Diving

Jimin was bleeding again.

This time his eyes wouldn't focus anymore. Everything was getting pale, fading, and his eyes were starting to cross. Porcelain tiles swarmed his vision, and nothing felt real anymore. He felt ironic laughter bubble up in his lungs but nothing came out when he opened his mouth. Streaks of color flashed over his vision, and his stomach felt cold; every joint creaked with each movement. Slowly, he sunk into the water. Outside, the sounds of the city mulled about a few floors below, and the rest of the apartment seemed to be still. Even though he'd left hours before, Jimin still felt jolted every time a particularly sharp sound cut through the malaise city droll.

When the relative silence was shattered by the sound of keys jingling in the door, his mind froze as his body tensed into a standing position. Frantic and dripping wet, Jimin scambled towards the window and fire escape. The slick linoleum hit his wet skin and he slipped. The crash seemed to make everything around him leap into action. His neighbor downstairs slammed on the ceiling, and the bathroom doorknob began to rattle as a familiar voice panicked on the other side. Jimin's bruised skin relaxed in relief as Yoongi cried out. He curled up a little, painfully, but he couldn't stop his soft sobs. His best friend broke through the door and immediately ran to his side.

"Jimin... Is anything broken?" the older whispered softly as he knelt down. In the back of his mind, Jimin registered that he wasn't asked whether he was okay-- the answer to that was quite evident.

He cleared his throat. "Not that I know of... I'm just a little bruised. It's fine." The lies came out without his even thinking.

"Dude." Yoongi's hand brushed Jimin's arm, looking at one of his vicious purple and sickly yellow bruises, and the latter flinched audibly.

"It's none of your buisness, Yoongi!" He exclamed as he wrestled himself up off the floor, "This is between me and him. We both know what happened the last time I stood up to him!"

"Besides...It's not like you're my boyfriend..." he mumbled quietly. Yoongi's outstretched hand fell. Jimin faced away, wet and shivering, arms crossed over his ribs. The bath water lapped gently still against the sides of the tub.

"You're soaking, in a sweater, man. We both know that-" He stoped himself, huffing and he anticipated only more argument was down this trail of thought. "Look. Jimin. Let's just get you in front a heater, at least, maybe change-" his throat caught on the word as the bruised boy turned towards him. His heavy clothes stuck tightly to his too-thin frame. His red-rimmed eyes spoke a thousand words as Yoongi took his hands and led him away from the water. The window reflected back a shell of himself, and the cold december air trailed in through the shattered glass. Outside, it sparkled in the light pollution.