As awful, violent and suffocating as they can be, nightmares still let whoever is dreaming them the possibility of waking up. A wide-awake nightmare, though, doesn't let anyone with this chance – and that's exactly what Namjoon is living in the days after the incident: a nightmare whom only him and Seokjin are prisoners of, the only sentient beings in a dimension made of silences, distances, polite murmurs and nothing else. No one knows what's happening between them but Namjoon is sure that, more or less, they can all perceive it somehow. It's desperately clear that something's wrong, and the thought that one of the members who's been with him too long might understand what has happened just contributes to the general feeling of panic.

And yet, being ostracized for what he did by someone who's not involved is still a preferable solution to being ignored by Seokjin, whose eyes don't even dare to dart towards him. He's irritated, way more than him, and Namjoon finds out how Seokjin faces his problem: by giving one word answers, hoarding his tension each time he makes mistakes and irrimediably repeating the same mistakes. Sometimes his hands shiver, and when he's sure nobody's watching he rests on the closest surface to release the tension, to prevent anger from overtaking.

He wants to get close to him and clarify, but what's there to clarify? The words he stuttered right after kissing him leave no room for interpretation – it's a pity Namjoon has only let them out without thinking or reflecting, mind dazed from the events, and he doesn't know the one he needs to apologize. He ends up thinking that maybe that's for the best: if he came back to explain Seokjin that he didn't mind, that he'd kiss him again, and again, then he'd condamn them both to a world of doubts. They'd be alone, forced to stay with the other so that an eventual break up wouldn't compromise the integrity of the group. They'd walk in unexplored lands, putting the others at risk as much as themselved.

And yet, for once, he wish he could be selfish.

The end is a plate breaking, and the silence following the macabre sound of shattering ceramic. The end is Seokjin stopping in the middle of the living room, in front of Jimin – who stares at him with his fists clenched to his chest, shivering.

Nobody says or does anything for a moment; the only audible sound, where everyone's holding their breath, is Seokjin's heavy breathing. He's recovering from the scream he unfairly directed to Jimin, exasperated by an innocent prank the boy organized with Taehyung while setting the table; the consequences of that scream are in front of everyone, on the floor shattered to pieces or in Jimin's frightened stare. The eldest is the first to break that silence, extending a hand towards the younger to caress his arm.

- Minie. -, he murmurs. - Minie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice... -

He pulls Jimin closer and hugs him, careful not to make him step on the shards; Jimin takes a moment to warm up. He hugs Seokjin's back and Namjoon hears him whispering: - It's alright, hyung. -, but the fear has yet to leave his eyes. Seokjin lets him go and sniffles loudly; he's looking down, in a moment of perfect stasis.

Then, he turns towards him

Namjoon feels like he has lived the last two weeks of his life only waiting for that moment. He's on his feet before Seokjin starts walking, before he can say “Namjoon, we need to talk” – but he says it anyway – and before he can grab his wrist to drag him outside, telling the others to leave the shattered plate on the floor, and that he'll clean as soon as they get back. Namjoon manages to steal a look behind himself only to find their friends and companions watching them intensely, some with cu