I never knew.

Behind all the passion, hardwork, eyesmiles and giggles, Jimin was a regular, happy-go-lucky person going about his business. Nothing seemed too out of place; he paid his taxes and went to work. Went on morning jogs and had dinner with friends on the odd occasion. He loved everyone and everyone loved him.

He loved me and I loved him. 

[A few months before]

"Your tie" 

"What?"

"Your - here, let me."

Jimin shuffles around the bed and makes his way over to me, reaching over and adjusting my tie. I drop my hands, thankful that I didn't have to spend five whole minutes pretending I knew what I was doing. Jimin looks up at me, and pouts cutely. My heart beats faster in my chest but on the outside, I scowl at him and urge him to move faster.

"Why are you always so damn cranky all the time?" He complains.

"Why are you always so damn happy all the time?" I shoot back. 

Jimin pokes his pink tongue out and I sigh. 

He spends a maxiumum of a few seconds on it, patting me down sweetly when he's done. "What would you do without me?" He giggles, and I mumble something under my breath. 

"What was that, Yoongi?"

"Nothing."

Jimin brushes it off and checks his watch. He notices we're beginning to run late and hurries over to pat his hair down in the mirror. 

"You got everything?"

"Yes"

Ah-hah. "What's this then?"

I bring out the car keys that he'd promised beforehand he wouldn't forget and he makes overexaggerated realization noises. I roll my eyes, not surprised at his foolishness. "I swear I put that in my pocket." 

"Obviously not."

Jimin runs off to make a few more checks around the apartment and I watch him from the corner of my eye; he's usually too busy or too in the moment for him to notice me watching him. I find myself admiring how he looks tonight - dressed up smartly in a tux, his hair slicked up off his forehead at a point. I realise Jimin catches me looking and smiles to himself when he realises why.

"Don't get too cocky now." I murmur coldly, but only to cool down how hotly I am burning up due to embarassment and well ... love.

~

"Also, don't forget the spaghetti. Need that for dinner."

"Yea, sure, whatever."

Jimin ends the phone conversation with a cheery goodbye and I can just imagine his pretty pink lips, beginning to contract to give me heartfelt kisses through the phone. I hang up before I hear the smooches.

I arrive a few hours later at our apartment, and take the elevator up, plastic bag in hand. I haven't actually alerted Jimin that I'd be home early; guess I'll pay him a little surprise.

I open the door with my key and immediately sense something is horribly wrong. The apartment is way too still, way too quiet, and I begin to fear the worst. Usually when I get off from work in a couple hours, the apartment is alive with music and Jimin is running around everywhere, half dancing half telling me to stop being lazy and as many times as I'd wished things were actually normal I want so badly for Jimin to burst out of nowhere and begin performing his latest thought-up choreography or start belting the tune of his latest fave song.

But he doesn't. 

The walk to our bedroom begins a hurried jog. I walk in and straightaway I see Jimin, pressed up against the corner, heaving in tears. I rush to him, and it's not till I'm right next to him on the floor do I realise that there are numerous cuts up and down his arms.

There's blood beginning to pool everywhere.

"Yoongi-ah ... " Jimin whimpers miserably, and he tries to fold his arms to hide what he's done from me but it's too late; I've seen too much already. 

It takes four minutes for the ambulance to arrive.

~

"He's lucky, that's for sure."

I thank the doctor who has come out to talk to me and turn to sit back down in my seat. No, I'm the lucky one. Lucky I had gotten there on time.

If I had finished work on time like I was about to, just imagine what I might have found instead .... 

No.

I shut my eyes, trying to force back tears that I refuse to let out. The last time I cried was when my mother died seven years ago. 

What had gone wrong? When had it gone wrong? What was I failing to miss every time? Images of Jimin, smiling even when I insult him, being by my side faithfully even when I gave up on him, play in my mind and I brush away at them angrily. I arrive home in a wrecked state.

Home is not home anymore, nothing is. Without Jimin, everything seems more pale, bland, an empty shell. I set my keys down on the table, and stand there, in the middle of the room, my body unaccostumed to this feeling of ... loss. The calm before the storm.

Why are you always so damn happy all the time?

Yoongi-ah ... 

Overwhelmed with grief, I grab the nearest thing to me and throw it with all my might to the opposite wall. The flower vase cracks into a million pieces but I am not satisfied, not by a long shot. My heart burns, it burns and continues to burn and I must to do everything in my power to cool it down ... no. No wait, actually, actually I enjoy the burn, the burn gives me strength, power, so I grab a few potraits off the fireplace and smash those too.

The coffee table. The glass plates. The hallway mirror. Nothing satisfies the burn; everything satiesfies the burn. I haven't paid much attention to where I've gone, I've just let my feet control me, take me where it wants, and suddenly I've stepped into our bedroom. 

The corner where I found him seems to poke and prod at me and I turn my head. It's too painful to look there. It's painful being in this room right now, here, without Jimin. Yet why do I not turn right around and exit? Why do I instead find myself walking up to the unmade bed in the centre?

I collapse ontop of the duvet but tears are already streaming down my face before I even hit the pillow.

~

"Yoongi, that's enough, for real this time."

I shake my head, insisting Jimin eat more. He's beginning to look dangerously thin and even though he's only had about one meal the whole day, says that he's full. I scoop up another spoonful for him and aim it for his mouth but he pushes it back.

"I said that's enough." Jimin whispers, and my heart clenches. It hurts to see him like this, weak and vulnerable. He doesn't even have the strength to nag at me, something I didn't know I would miss. There's a lot of things I didn't know I missed.

Seeing him smile gently at me reminds me of how things were before and I turn my head away. I need to avoid the past. Nothing good comes out of remembering the past. I sense Jimin's smile drop, as he realises how much he's caused me by that little smile. I feel him shutting down again and I push myself to turn back around.

"Jimin ... " He looks back up at me, seemingly surprised. His messy, brown hair dangles just above his eyelids and at times he has to look at me through them. His chapped lips are pinker than ever and I force myself to look anywhere but there.

"Are you sure you don't want anymore?" Jimin shakes his head. 

"Okay ... okay. Call me if you need anything, okay? Anything. I'll be at work but I'll be home straightaway when I'm done."

Jimin nods.

"Just ... just stay. Here." We both understand I'm talking about more than just physically staying home. 

I struggle trying to say the next bit. 

"I ... you know, I, um ... very much-"

"I know." Jimin stops me, noticing my discomfort. "I, um, very much, too."

~

It had been only a few months since the incident but to me, it felt like yesterday, and anyway the pain of it all never really wore off. Things returned back to fairly normal after Jimin recovered; he continued with how he was, happy-go-lucky and cheery as always, and it seemed he'd already forgotten how sick he had been. But I never forgot, was never once fooled into thinking things were fine and dandy when in reality, they weren't.

"Are you off to work now?" Jimin calls out to me sleepily from where he's lying in bed. It's 8am in the morning and I'm already late for work. Jimin however doesn't go into the studio 'til 11. 

"Yea, and I'm already hella late." I rush to get my things organised, wanting to head off soon so I wouldn't be stuck in the middle of busy traffic. 

"Yoongi."

"Mhm?"

"Come here." Jimin sits up in bed and he rubs at his eyes. I sit down beside him in bed as he reaches to adjust my collar and tie. In the rush of things, I'd forgotten to organise myself.

"Your tie. Yet again." Jimin's husky morning voice is rougher than usual and it makes me to wonder whether Jimin is actually doing as fine as I'd thought. He looks normal, rather calm, as he concentrates on making me look well dressed and suddenly I get a flashback of when he was fixing my tie for our dinner a few months back, back when everything had seem fine. 

Back when I thought nothing could possibly go wrong. 

"You have a good day at work today. Stay safe." Jimin waves goodbye and I have the weirdest feeling. 

It doesn't go away the whole day. At work, I can't concentrate because I'm too busy worrying about Jimin and the fact that he's been hiding how he feels from me recently. On the outside, he looks like this positive, nothing-can-break-me spirit when all along on the inside, is a whole complete story. It breaks my heart to know that as someone who is with him everyday, I have never taken the time to notice this until recently.

I get the feeling that something is off during my break. It's stronger than ever and I know that it has something to do with Jimin. Without even thinking, I drive as fast as I can home. I comb through every single room in the apartment and find nobody. 

"The studio-" I whisper, and once again I set off for downtown, where Jimin works.

I check my watch as I enter the property. It's 2:15pm. The little kids class would have finished by now, so all I have to do is find Jimin hopefully inside his office or in the studio itself. The studio is the closest so I check that first - nobody. A sense of urgency begins beating in my chest and I rush to the only place I can imagine Jimin to be.

I find him, in his office, slumped over on the chair. Already, I know I'm too late.