1: 23 am. 

They were only a few feet from each other across the living room, but Jungkook felt hundreds of miles between him and Taehyung. His chest constricted for the thousandth time that night, desperately unwilling to believe what was unfolding right before his eyes, unable to stop it try as he ing might.  

Taehyung's face was blank. What gave him away was the way his eyes flickered and trembled with the impending pain they were both about to cause each other. "It's for the best," his deep voice stated it matter-of-factly.  

Jungkook wondered if his hyung believed his own words. He found himself nodding, while his insides were screaming for everything to stop. He opened his mouth to agree—then closed it. He wouldn't be able to say anything without his feelings betraying him.  

Taehyung's eyes fluttered shut, but not before Jungkook saw the glimmer of unshed tears filling his eyelashes. Tae smiled with his eyes closed; it would have been a beautiful picture if his lips didn't tremble. If that damn smile wasn't a poor attempt at feigning strength. Faking resolve.  

Suddenly,  looking at his beautiful Taehyung was too much. Jungkook turned away and focused on the yellow blankets strewn about on the sofa. How many nights have they spent snuggled under those very same blankets, telling each other their dreams for each other? Wistfully wishing for a more accepting world? Hoping against ing hope that what they had was different—that it could work when no one else's had? 

He wanted to comfort V. He wanted to be comforted. The gap was beginning to grow wider. Jungkook couldn't move his legs and walk closer even if he so badly wanted to. "Hyung," he began, aware that his vision was getting blurry. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.  

They said to pull it out quickly like a band-aid. He felt like he was grabbing onto stitches and yanking them off with their knots still under his skin. Jungkook couldn't exhale the lungful of air he took in. "I... we will always be friends." He wanted to hurl. 

It was Taehyung's turn to nod. He was still smiling as he looked down at his bare feet. Drops of moisture started falling on his toes. "Always." 

Jungkook was glad. Hyung wouldn't be able to see his face contort with pain. He clenched his fists, willing himself to get things over with. A few more words. Some closure. He'd deal with the searing pain in his whole being later. "I love you," he choked out, hating himself for losing composure, wanting Tae to know that no matter what. It meant for what was happening—and what couldn't happen. But he had to say the words; they had to be heard because from that point onward, such words can never be spoken again. Not the way he meant it. A stab of pain permeated his already strangled heart. 

Taehyung's shoulders sagged. Jungkook knew he hurt him again, but this was their last chance. One more stitch plucked out. He was bleeding out one last time before he closed himself off completely. "I know," his hyung sobbed, hand reaching up to cover his mouth as if trying to physically push back his emotions.  

Jungkook knew his tears mirrored Tae's. He let them spill over his cheeks, briefly wondering if he could cross the room and wrap his arms on his shoulders one last time, but knowing if he did, they'd have to start all over again. His fingers dug deep into his palms. "Thank you, hyung." 

Tae's eyes met his, and despite the agonizing grief that it brought to his entire existence, Jungkook held his gaze. He had to say the words.  

"Thank you. For loving me. For sharing this with me." The lump in his throat blocked the words, but he pressed on. "Thank you for showing me how to love without conditions. I--" he took in a ragged breath. "--I don't think I'll ever find that again. But thank you for--" another strangled sob. "--for sharing that with me." 

Taehyung let out a silent whimper against his hand, refusing to cry out loud. He nodded continuously, and they remained that way for a few minutes, a few hours—neither of them knew. Neither wanted to finalize things.  

It was like drawing a blunt knife and jagged lying running it a million times across his very soul. Jungkook hated who he was. Who he was to the world. He hated who he was in this little world they made for themselves; this little world that used to be their safe haven. This world that was about to crumble to dust. To nothing.  

He was too greedy, thinking he could have both universes and live two separates lives. This hurt he was going to carry for a long, long time—this was his punishment.  

"You should go to sleep," Taehyung finally spoke. His face was expressionless again, save for his red-rimmed eyes and ragged breathing. "We have an early schedule tomorrow."  

That was it. The last stitch was out.  

Jungkook nodded, amazed at how his legs brought him back to his room. He didn't know how fast or how slow he got there, but he was able to—without turning around, without running back to that other world he so desperately wanted to keep living in.  

He shut his door quietly. His legs brought him to that point and stopped. He felt exhausted. He felt defeated. He wondered when the numbness will take over.  

"Ya."  

Namjoon-hyung's voice seeped into Jungkook's consciousness. Their leader stood in front of him, arms reaching out to their maknae.  

Jungkook didn't know how his feet managed the two steps forward as he fell against his hyung's shoulders. Everything bubbling just below the surface exploded from the inside, and he sobbed and clung and cried for all he was worth. The release was as painful as holding it in; Jungkook was dying a hundred deaths and he could only clutch onto Namjoon's sleeves for reprieve. 

Namjoon-hyung held him as he broke into a thousand pieces. "You did well, Kookie. You did well. Shhh."