『 He is like the petals of a dying flower, his smile so brittle that it might fade if you touch it, so delicate it could disappear with the smoke. His mayday is very faint it withered like shattering windshimes.』 

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

Just like fluttering dust, the tea feels like rays of sunshine on his tongue. Very light, almost unsensed. Jimin closes his eyes, sunshine enveloping his shoulders too. A warm hand on his hip, a smile against his neck, the voice of a falling angel in his ears. A small whisper that disappears into the rays before he could hear it. He let himself get pulled onto the embrace. The lightness almost unremembering his own existence. Taehyung passes his hand through Jimin's messed up bangs, and it feels like waves of the sea. 

“Stay,” Jimin mutters. Taehyung's hair is blonde, like rays of sunshine. His eyes blue like the sea, like spring skies, like Jimin's favourite color, the ocean singing in his voice, the birds too. 

“It's what you always say,” his voice is like droplets of the rain, notes slowly fading and melding. Jimin lulls his head back into Taehyung's chest, sinking into the light warmth. It travels to his head in waves, travels all through him like wind in a tropical island, measuring their speed in teaspoons. It creeps down to his stomach, sinks there in a spiral of smoke. 

“.. min, Jimin!”

The voice is too sharp, too strong, too loud it echoes through the walls. He doesn't reply, he savors the moment of Taehyung's lips kissing his cheek. He breathes in and breathes out again, looks at Taehyung's perfect face, lips the color of sunrise that lingered on him enough he senses vestiges of the sun on his skin, languid heat. Gone but still there. He doesn't want to reply, ignores the voice, like if he doesn't, all of it would disappear, fades away. 

“We'll start shooting now!” 

Jimin feels Taehyung's fingers on his shoulder, light and warm. Taehyung whispers that he should go. But everything else fades with the sensation of his fingers. The words of whoever spoke lost somewhere in his mind. He forgets he's the most famous actor of his time. He forgets the scene, forgets his lines too. No problem, he can make them up. Like he always does. The director never minds, finds his new lines rather interesting. 

“.. Coming,”

He turns to look for Taehyung but he is already gone. He still can smell him still, it invades his every cell, every working brain neuron he has. He inspires his new lines from the mint perfume his nostrils still recalls. It sticks in his mind like the colors of fading paintings, too vague but still clear, beautiful. It reflects in his acting. Everyone is satisfied with his work as always. He never s up, he is always perfect. He knows his character by heart. 

Jungkook is waiting for him outside in the car, smile so wide it blinds him. Voice so loud it beams in his flower ears. He wants to drown the noise in the pool of his mind. Way too sharp. The car is far but he sees his friend so well. His toes curl as he walks in barely audible steps, star dust in his eyes, the moon on his lips. He greets him in a rehearsed voice. Jungkook comments on how skinny he became, that he should eat more because he's worried about his health. Jimin doesn't hear him, gaze flying past people and cars and buildings, too much colors it mixes in his brain. An abstract painting. Far but yet too close. Amidth it all, he feels someone watching him, he feels it burning in the back of his head. He turns around and there is nothing. The back seat of the car is empty. It always is. 

Jimin sits in his house, cosmos eyes on the papers in his frail hands, he gathers all the bits of himself lost here and there like fairy dust and starts reading, his fingers so delicate around the papers they almost fall to the tailored ground. There is a smile on his face, delicate it might break if you touch it. He finds his true self in the small room, it's the only space where he knows how to think, how to navigate its space and get lost in the corners, how to float like star dust into space. It's the only thing he's good at, the scenarios become a part of his soul, he knows he'll leave a bit of himself with it, like it happens every time. 

One day, he'll have none of himself to give. He would've gave it all till there is nothing left. Nothing left at all. The scenario plays in his mind like a tape, he memorizes it all but he still reads it, reads it again and again and again that he almost feels as if he is in the scenario, as if the scenario is real. Sometimes he thinks his life is just other scenario too, read by someone he can't see. That he is living in someone's perception, flower skies and crystal grounds. Now he is sure he knows it too well that he can make up lines when he forgets them. But he reads again. His moon eyes lingers on a line, one he had never seen before ‘I'm watching you.’ He is painfully aware that the line wasn't in the papers before. He thinks he just forgot it. He always forgets. He closes all the curtains in the room. Total darkness. Then he gulps down his pills. 

He opens his eyes. He's in the supermarket. He walks around, trying to remember why he came. He takes a bottle of water, gulps it down when he sees Taehyung in the opposite aisle. He throws a smile at him from the distance, doesn't wait to see if Taehyung caught it before he walks to the other side. 

“Your new lines were amazing,” he whispers in his ears. His breaths are like cigarette sm