‘The only thing I can do
In the garden
In this world’

Jeongguk had been shattered, even more than he'd ever thought was possible. It cut him from all sorts of light, or hoping, and he couldn't see what was beautiful in life anymore. Not that he had ever done but Jimin was like the light at the end of the tunnel, pretty, somehow distant but nevertheless promising. 

Jeongguk became frozen with no feelings in him, like a piece of wood, like a lonely painting. He felt dead inside, and he looked dead from the outside. Heavens had condemned him to total dark sadness. He was already destroyed, and alone, but the thought of never seeing Jimin again was like hell. 

He then wished he didn't distance himself of Jimin the way he did, that he maintained a certain degree of closeness. He saw stars through his eyes, his mechanical heart finally felt something when Jimin was next to him, it gave him hope, it made him happy. Even if he couldn't have him, he did need him to stay alive, like oxygen. 

But now that has disappeared, the dream has fallen. And he thought maybe if he appreciated Jimin enough, he wouldn't be so alone, drinking like a mad man, like his life depended on it but still not feeling the slighest bit better. 

It caused him to feel extreme emotional pain, something he never felt before neither did he think he was capable of feeling, and it made him feel like dying. He drank to forget his pain, but at the moment he was just drank and sad, nothing different, just tenfolds worst. 

The feeling stalled on, dragged on endlessly, and Jeongguk lost all strings that attached him to life one by one. His tears never stopped falling, like that of heavy rain, his heart as dark as sadness itself. 

Jeongguk didn't know when exactly he lost all interest in food, it reminded him of Jimin's beautiful breathless giggles, the way it shed light upon his life, the way he'd smile back, and the way Jimin would reach out to caress his hair. 

The downhill storm continued, and Jeongguk didn't know when exactly he lost interest in sleep too. It reminded him of Jimin's beautiful voice when he sang him to sleep, the way his songs took him to different worlds, different civilizations, the way it reminded him of springs and snow, galaxies and angels and magic and sirens. 

Jeongguk could write books on how much Jimin's voice was the remedy to all his illnesses, to all his pain, to everything he had ever suffered, but that now was gone, because of how foolishly he let his jealousy take over him. He wanted to blame Jimin for leaving him behind, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. 

At some point, he even doubted the fact Jimin had ever r