A smile. A laugh. His nose scrunched cutely, head thrown back.

Her eyes shone with mirth, with love.

His hand reached for hers.

Fingers entwined.

Yoongi stopped, stepped back. A petal fell to the floor. Or was it a tear?

Another drop.

Then it stopped.

Another petal fell to the floor.

Jungkook was the sun, and all it's rays of light.

His smile shone so bright.

When he was with her, he shone ever brighter.

Yoongi should be happy for him.

He is happy for him.

But he's not.

Jungkook comes smiling to him, telling him about her. Yoongi can only manage to smile.

To tell him he's glad he's found his happiness again, after so long.

He doesn't tell him that he's lost his own.

Another petal.

Another drop.

Yoongi sees them on the beach, hand in hand, talking, smiling, laughing.

He knows he shouldn't watch them, knows it would only hurt him.

But he can't stop.

Jungkook's rays are too bright, they call to him, keep his eyes transfixed.

He wants to hate her, wants to blame her.

But he can't.

She is a beautiful flower, blooming in the sunshine.

As she blossoms, he beams.

She is the reason Jungkook smiles again, laughs, carefree again.

How could Yoongi hate her?

If Jungkook was the sun, Yoongi was the moon.

For the moon needs the sun in order to shine bright, but the sun does not need the moon.

Yoongi's world was plain, pain, full of darkness. Jungkook's was full of light, hope.

There are so few petals left. Yoongi's flower is nearly bare.

He should stop, move on, pick a new flower, grow a new flower.

But he sees Jungkook's hand caressing her soft rosy cheek, her brown sunkissed hair. He sees as she stand on her toes, reach her arms around his neck.

He sees as they kiss in the sunlight, lost in their own beautiful world.

Yoongi's last petal falls.

He holds the empty stalk.

One last drop.

But the moon without the sun, is just another rock in the sky.