As I'm slacking a bit on my updates on my other Namjoon/Yoongi-fic,
i bring you all this. 

      It's nearing the start of Summer when you come to find yourself standing out in the heat on the balcony. The air conditioner in your room had a great run for the past five years and the extra five years before that with the previous apartment tenant. You considered yourself lucky enough to acquire the appliance when first moving to Seoul-- and to this very apartment building. 

     Just as every year when Summer would come greeting the country of South Korea so harshly with its humidity and glaring sun rays, you'd usually find yourself fumbling through the closet for your seasonal clothing. You'd find yourself with the air conditioner on full blast, turning the whole apartment into a freezing wasteland only Winter-lovers like yourself would've been proud and so secured in. You were so sure if you were able to make it snow inside, your ego would grow ten-fold and there'd be an absolutely astounded expression on his face when he returned from grocery shopping.

      However this year was different. 

     Because this year, he wasn't there to nag you to organize your closet, nor was he there to nag you to clean up the apartment while he was outside running errands. 

      This year, there was no one else besides yourself to do the grocery shopping and cleaning. 

      The air conditioner did its best until the third week of Spring before its exhausted engines began to cough out puffs of smoke while Jin was over. You knew very well that it wasn't a good idea to keep that thing. Jin made sure to scold you enough right after almost ting himself. Many times when you found yourself awoken in the middle of the night because of the rattling and strained cries from the machine, you contemplated to buy a new one and put that girl to rest. But falling back into sleep and waking up the next afternoon to find that she was running all good and swell just like she had five years ago, you sweep that thought under the rug and chose to save your money for something better: a new microphone or a better music editing software.

      As the heat of the Summer really hits in the afternoon, you're really not feeling for that tan. And so, after a good five minute of standing in the sun, you call it quits. You take one big inhale of the carbonated and suffocating air that followed such a heavy populated city like Seoul and stepped back into the apartment, closing the door behind you. 

     You resume your cleaning for the afternoon. It's when you're throwing out old garbage piling around your bed when you find it. You pick up a box that once held a pair of the 25th Anniversary Edition Air Jordans and the voices of resuscitations past come and haunt your thoughts almost instantly. The Air Jordans sneakers you gifted him with on his birthday two years ago has been long out of your hands since you placed it out by the door one early morning before he woke up and began getting ready for work. Throwing away the pair of faded white Nike low-cuts you knew he had been forcing himself to wear, he obviously would notice the absence of his three years old sneakers.

"Namjoon, what are these?" Your eyes had been staring at the digital clock on your night stand ever since you felt the boy sneak out of your arms at precisely 5:01AM and into the bathroom to begin his morning routine. It's nearly 6AM now and as much as you're trying to feign sleep, you know that at any moment now you could actually fall asleep. Thankfully your back is to the door of your bedroom where you can just picture him clear as day standing at the door way whilst holding the pair of sneakers in his hands, feelings of bewilderment evident on his face. 

"Kim Namjoon, my birthday isn't until next week." It's like he knows that you're awake, listening to every word he's saying-- which wasn't entirely incorrect. Had you gotten a bit more sleep you might've thought of answering him. But your current position just gotten so much more comfortable within the span of ten seconds that you're not sure you'll be able to listen to him before he disappears for the day. 

      When everything had seemingly fallen into silence and for a split second you've fallen under the impression that he rushed off to some other area of the apartment or maybe you've slept and woken up once again after hours of sleep, arms slide around your waist with the edges and shape of the side of his face  being pressed against your back. You couldn't lie about how surprised you were and you knew he felt your body tense for that moment-- now he knew you were awake. Almost immediately, you relax, though. You enjoy the warmth wrapped around you and the sense of security you felt in them. After all, you would shamelessly admit that they were as strong as they were the first time you both held each other at the Urban:Society club's after-party back in university. 

      You remember college ranging from the happiest moments of your life to the most difficult and stressful times where life just body slammed you onto a floor of rocks. But when it came to the Urban:Society Club, that's where you met him and that's one of the main reasons that made it the most memorable times of your life. 

"I love you."

      That's where this all started.

      And having to mentally smack yourself away from the memories the box carried with them was normal-- it should be considered normal. Jin did try his very best to give some empathy. But you knew just how quick he was to go from one person to another. You never understood how he was able to do it before coming to the conclusion that perhaps Jin was going through his own inner battles-- it wouldn't be in your best interest to examine him when you yourself was far from healing the wound that has yet to completely close within the past year. 

      Within the box was the loose change and crumpled bills you saved up for those new recording accesories you knew you were head over heels for in the past. It's been months since you last opened the box and it was noticeable with the light layer of dust hugging every edge of the cardboard. When rummaging through the bottom part of the box, the forgotten folded scrap papers almost surprise you. Your eyebrows begin to knit close together as the feelings you thought you've learnt to control threaten to consume and make you collapse into a sobbing mess.

      Not again.

      You can hear the words you've rehearsed so much whisper through your ears. 

      Not again, please.

"Deep breaths, Namjoon. Deep breath in, then it's a deep breath out." How many times has Jiho had to say that in order for you to hear the words clear as day through the emptiness of your dimly lightened bedroom? You've lost count when the memories of the past year begin to sink into your recollection. Memories of keeping yourself trapped behind four walls; a darkness where there was no form of life in sight. Not even picking up a pen and paper to write a rap, you remembered how tough it was on Jiho to move on from working with you. But he knew just as much that you needed the time away and for that, you're thankful to him. 

    The time given to you was rather soothing in its own way, especially when accompanied by the cold air supplied by the air conditioner. You can't remember if it was within the past year when the cold air was able to give you a sense of assurance or had it always been like that before you both separated. 

      But right now, the humidity of the apartment was simply apalling and there was a thought at the back of your head suggesting you to simply carry out the rest of your day in . You were close to taking the suggestion into consideration until you spot a photo that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

      You were so sure that you burned all the pictures you had with him, but it seems that you were wrong. Pulling out the photo, you examine every detail of his features; the boyish smile he wore as his face pressed skin against your own, the way his eyes crinkles at the ends because you remembered he claimed that this specific smile to be his un-ready-smile: where the photo was taken so suddenly he had no time to think of anything better to do. Your index finger absentmindedly traces over the shape of his face, then down his neck. 

     Even to this day, as much as you'd refuse to acknowledge it while sober, you still remembered how his body felt under your finger tips. How he was specifically sensitive to the soft kisses you'd trail down the crook of his neck or scatter at the inner sides of his thighs. As painful as it is to remember, you find yourself choking back a few tears and damn you're really starting to despise the heat. The heat was getting to you. Had it been below sixty-degrees, you know that your mind would know where not to wander. 

      Placing the photo back into the box and closing it carefully, it resumes its place underneath your bed and you stuff your face into your hands for you came to understand that the rest of the day was ruined. Once the memories began to return, there was no turning back anytime soon. You can already feel your body stiffen and the hot air trapped within the room suffocate you. 

      When you recall the ending of it all, you were sure that you both didn't just end when you decided to confront him. Weeks prior, you were able to sense something different about him. The bright smile that you were so used to when you both met eyes was not reserved only for you anymore. And it hurt that the observation was proven by the foreign smell of his clothing when you decided to be a good boy and gather up all the laundry. Eventually there was an obvious distance placed between the both of you and it was unbearing. 

      For the man you fell in love with had changed and you were no longer the one that made his heart beat anymore.

      Weeks in and out, you helplessly hoped that one day the light in his eyes would return-- but they do not and you're left to your own thoughts and the silence of the apartment you both shared as he often stayed out late nights. Sometimes he wouldn't return and your texts and voice messages were left unanswered. When the emptiness became too much to bear, when you know all too well that he was leaving you alone at night to sleep with another: you decided to catch him on the day he decided to stay at home.

"Hyung, do you mind if we talk?" You asked him softly. He was still, Yoongi's eyes still glued to the television program before glancing to you in curiosity. It was a Thursday afternoon and you've barely exchanged words with him in the past month. You were able to catch how he reluctantly nodded his head and turned off the television.

"Sure." Its sort of a tentative, restrained smile, but still there was a smile on Yoongi's face. And suddenly you're not sure if you could actually do this. Your eyes stare at the smile for a long second before trying to find something else, anywhere else to focus your attention just until you regain your confidence to proceed with this.

      You can do this.

      You can do this, Namjoon.

      You can do this.

      When you hear his voice again, you realize that you've been in your own world of encouragement for a tad bit too long, "What is it?" He asks carefully. It was as though he already noticed how broken you've become over the span of the recent month: through the emptiness of the apartment and the dinner you've had by yourself for nearly every night. Of course you were curious who he has been with. If you pry too much, there was something deep within yourself that told you he wouldn't give you the time of day. Just to get the opportunity to see that man you so sincerely fell in love with-- you tamed your hungry curiosity.

      Your arms cross over your chest and you start feeling so small with his eyes watching your every move. Doubt is what starts making its way into your head. It starts as you closed the distance between you and him and made your way to the couch. But sitting too close only would make you both more uncomfortable and so you take the spot on the opposite side of the couch.

     You begin hating yourself just a tad bit more for always getting nervous. Whether it had been in front of a group of strangers or when trying to start a conversation, your heart will start beating hard in your chest making it painstakingly obvious how much this mattered. Deep breaths, in and out-- As much as you knew that the breathing technique did little to nothing to calm you down, just doing it slightly lightened the intensity of the beating in your chest. Throat growing tight with every passing by second, the doubt returns. You rehearsed these words so much the night before that you were sure they'd come out 98%-perfect but at this moment it hurt to talk.

"Namjoon?" Catching the hint of concern in his voice, you realize that you have to either bite the bullet and confront the issue or wait until he never comes back to the apartment you both shared. You chose closure over waiting like an abandoned puppy and you clear your throat.

"I... -You know" You stammer and there was nothing at this point to hide the things on your mind. But at this milestone, you start pleading silently to the heavens that you don't break. That you won't break into a sobbing mess in front of him and end up begging him to return to you. You know you aren't pathetic but even through all this time you loved him the same way you did when you discovered the bond you two had.

"I can't do this anymore." Your eyes focus on the pattern of the wooden floor boards as he spoke the words. It hurts like a punch to the gut when you finally heard him say it himself. You were able to see how he dropped his face into his hands. That's when you overheard the sigh he exhaled; it was that heavy kind of sigh where you were able to tell how tired he was of this. 

"I know." Just as fast as the words have been spoken you felt him lift his face out of his hands and turn towards you in utter shock. Because perhaps he was expecting you to cuss at him, try to start a fight with him, and raise your voice but you don't. You stand your ground and face this already losing battle with the pain that has been swelling in your chest for far too long now.

"You knew?" At this point there was no way to know where your limit stood. How much could you take, you begin to wonder. 

"Yes." It started as a simple answer but as soon as it came, the rest of your thoughts began to spill passed your lips as fast as running water and you couldn't stop the feelings. 

"I know you've been seeing someone else for the past month-- I'm guessing its been a month, I'm not sure if its been longer. You'd probably be wondering if I'd be curious who they were but honestly, I don't need to know. I don't care and it doesn't matter who the other person is. But, I mean, hyung-- did you really think I wouldn't notice anything? Did you really think I wouldn't notice how you've been coming back late without even sparing me a single word when I waited for you? Or even that time when you came back drunk and I decided it was best to leave you alone until you collapsed in the bathroom tub and i had to wash and change you myself. I noticed the marks on your body then. I knew it wasn't me who gave you those because we didn't have that day. And I knew you didn't have them before you went to the event."

"At that moment, I knew very well you were sleeping around with someone else. But God, I couldn't muster the courage to ask you when you weren't even conscious. So, I kept it to myself. I kept it to myself how your smell changed when you slid in beside me at night. The thick scent of cologne that followed you under the sheets-- then, I was sure it was another man. After that, I began to notice how often you were texting and the smile of excitement you tried to hide when you thought i wasn't looking. I knew those texts weren't simply business anymore."

"But Namjoon, why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" You repeated under your breath because you were sure if the words were repeated any louder, your voice would surely crack. It will crack and put your weakness to the whole situation on display for Yoongi to see. At this point, you just can't help but look forward to the moment he leaves you so you can die.

      You dare to spare him a look and its another rush of air out your lungs. His fingers press his eyes closed and as much as it was a relief to find that he was also in pain, you don't allow it to hinder you away from the point of this talk. What you do allow to get to you was the realization that that same hand pressing his eyes were now used to press against-- rub against someone else.

      Someone else who was no longer you.

"I-- I didn't know how to. I was scared of what could--" You listen to his sentence trail off into the silence and you came to understand that Yoongi was at a loss of words; he just didn't know what to say. The way his head hung low, you could only assume how ashamed he felt. When a few minutes in silence pass, he begins once again, "I'm sorry, Namjoon."

      Your fingers find their way up your skull, brushing through your hair in irritation. It was a terrible excuse and it made your throat feel tighter to speak. Your eyes burn with tears that threatened to spill, now you felt the anger because Yoongi was spitting utter bull.

      He knew how to talk to you.

      He just didn't feel inclined to.

    Deep breaths, in and out-- you had to calm yourself down, you knew you had to. But given this pathetic excuse of an apology, it was difficult to. The words lacked so much emotion you couldn't forgive him like this. You're not even sure you could forgive him at all. Yoongi seeking forgiveness through such means had your original expectations of him coming to a crumble. When you've came to realize all those confessions of love and being each other's 'only one' were sweet words never meant to last-- it's overwhelming.

     It's overwhelming how fast the things you've worked so hard to maintain can come crashing down all at once. And even so, you couldn't help but constantly imagine your ring on his finger and spending the rest of your days with him.

"You can't just give me that and expect me to understand." A small flame of what seems to be anger is ignited within your chest, but before it gets the best of you, you overturn it while it was still small. If you allowed your anger to get the best of you at this point in the game you knew you'd cry in front of him. 

     But you don't want to cry.

     And you don't want to cry in front of him of all people.

"You just can't say sorry to me when you lied to me, seen someone behind my back and then expect me to accept what you've done. Yoongi," Now, your total respect for him had fallen, he was no longer a hyung to you. "you can't just walk back into our apartment like you're a total stranger to me and act so cold and distant when you should know how much you mean to me. Don't you know how much I can't live with the thought of losing you? It's so selfish, hyu-Yoongi. God, it's been hurting-- No,"  You then take the moment to inhale a sharp breath just so you'd have enough to keep you from falling off the edge. Because you knew if you fell off the edge right then, you'd break completely. 

    Just maintain your ground for a bit longer then it'll be all over and letting out some tears would be much more tolerable.

"It kills the out of me. And for the past month, I've been always wanting to talk to you. But you're rarely around and I was left alone in this damn apartment to my own device. I'm not gonna' lie, there were moments this past month I found myself crying but where were you? Whenever I've mustered the courage to ask you what's been going on, you brush me off by giving me about you being busy or tired. I respected that you worked hard- but you were growing so distant I just... You began treating me like a colleague when you used to treat me as the reason you lived." 

    Your words manage to make your body tremble slighty and immediately, you can tell that this was not a good sign.

"I can't forgive you like this, Yoongi. I really can't. You told me-" Your voice begins to crack, "You promis-" And your voice fails you once more. "Yoongi, you-" As you manage the few words in a quiet voice, you lean forward, resting your elbows onto your knees as you press the inner corner of your eyes. With eyes closed and the darkness left to register around you, you begin to grow agitated once recognizing his steady breathing. The way you're able to feel the heat his body emanates, had you feeling disgusted.

    You want him to leave.

"Leave, Yoongi." You command him, keeping your eyes pressed and your sight hidden in the darkness behind your lids.

    Everything around you falls into a deafening silence where if you weren't listening so consciously, you'd probably be tricked into believing you were the only one in the room. The silence drags on for a long couple of minutes before you begin to hear him shifting in his seat. At this point, you can also hear your heart shattering in your ears. 

    Yoongi was leaving.

    And at this point, you know you couldn't stop him.

"Namjoon, I'm sorry." Yoongi tries to apologize once more but now you're left with the belief that he's lying through his teeth. "I'm not telling you bull when I confess that you're such an amazing person and that I don't deserve you and what you have to offer. I'm not bullting you when I tell you how much I've loved you with all my being."

    He loved you.

"It may sound terrible that I'm saying this but, I'm sorry that you weren't enough for me."

    Not enough, he says. 

    Nearly three years of not enough.

"I'm all there is to blame when it comes to my own selfishness and desire for you when I knew you wouldn't last for me."

    What you two had was a mistake.

    You've been his mistake.

"You have all the rights to blame me now, Namjoon. Yell at me, curse at me. I know how much you curse when you're pissed off. Come on, take a swing at me. You know better than anyone how much I deserve whatever beating you want to give me."

    Your anger would so love to take him up on that permission of beating but you're restraining yourself. As much as you'd even want to, you can't bring yourself to. You still know all too well how much you love him.

"I know how much I'm hurting you. And I'll tell you now that I will never forget it."

    You won't believe him nor a single word he says, you pledge silently to yourself.

    When he's standing off of the couch, he makes his way to you and stands in front of you. You don't make a move to see what's happening nor the face he's wearing as you feel his eyes stare and observe any of your small movements. You can smell his scent so close to you and you almost get the urge to lean and press against the familiar smell, but he's much too far away from you now. If you were to open your eyes now, you're sure you'd remembere every single detail of it until you hit the grave.

    At this point, all you can find yourself wanting is just the good memories of him to remain in your head. The memorable times where you caught him smiling in uncontrollable bliss or the expression he'd wear after you both engaged in a spontaneous make-out session in a variety of places in the apartment. Even the moments when he'd scold you for being messy but would still serve you dinner with a childish pout because you knew he couldn't ignore you completely.

   More than anything, you wanted to keep the memories of when he loved you.

"Can you promise me something, Namjoon?" His voice is a quiet as a whisper and the coldness from its tone sends a small shudder throughout your body leaving it stiff and tense.

"Don't let this keep you from returning to your wonderful-self. Take care of yourself, do your laundry, and don't forget to get enough groceries every few weeks. I know it won't be easy for a while, but some time, please smile again. When that day does come, be happy. Embrace the feeling." Yoongi then pauses for a short moment and you can hear him inhale a deep breath for he was ready to hit you with the final blow, "And please forget about me."

    You want to laugh at his words. You find it ing hilarious how he'd want to say such a thing. How could he expect you to feel better when he'd be the one murdering you; leaving a herrendous pain in your chest once he has stepped foot out of this apartment for the last time? How could he so easily tell you to forget about him when he was the one who opened your eyes, exposed you to so much different feelings and experiences that made you into who you were now? You realize how much you've fallen for him and at the moment, you deem it impossible to just simply forget about him.

    How were you supposed to forget him like that?

    How were you supposed to forget the person you've valued as high as yourself-

    And then just become strangers like that?

"I'm not able to promise you somethin' like that." You respond under your breath, but clear enough for him to hear. And finally, you remove you fingers away from your eyes and allow yourself to see the pair of legs that stood in front of you just as you've guessed. You dare to look up at him and meet his eyes, but once you do, you came to see he's hurting.

    However, not in the same way you are.

    That sort of pain he's feeling-- you know he'll surely move past it easier than you. Because you already have the feeling that he has gotten over you weeks ago. And once he leaves you today, tonight he'll be with another. His body forgetting all your touches and kisses and instead rewriting over them with the touches and kisses of the man he has cheated on you with. 

"Namjoon," When your name rolls off his tongue like that; it almost sounds too familiar to you. You know you haven't heard it in a while. It resembles the tone he once used so often to call you when everything was perfect and most importantly, when he loved you.

     You take the moment to interupt him, "Can you please just leave now?"

    You can't help but overhear him exhale a shakey breath and whether he chose to display his tears or not, didn't matter much to you. Even if he did, you already feel that it wouldn't bother you at all. 

     You already begin to feel it. You already feel that small flame ignite once more. The small flame was a burning-warmth in your chest-- a small part of you was beginning to hate him.

     And now, Yoongi makes his way to leave. His footsteps are reluctant.

      Your eyes do not watch Yoongi make it to the door. Your eyes were much too focused on analyzing the details of the wood-patterned flooring. Memories of nights you spent on them just lazing around with the older male. Whether it had been cuddling, play fighting, or making out, you both didn't mind the floor despite how hard it was. Over time, there was a certain comfort that started to come with it. You felt so close down to Earth while the world outside was so great. 

     A soft click of the front door closing shut is what snaps you out of the memories and you're left alone.

    He's gone and he'll never come back.

[A/N]: Well, hello. 
I'm kind of expecting there to be a bit confusion as to why I didn't choose Yoongi to be the
victim instead of Namjoon here, and I'll admit that there were moments I debated on switching
parts, but I stuck with my original intent. Maybe I just feel that we don't get much of a look of a
completely broken-up Namjoon? I don't know
I apologize for any typos and .
Hope you all managed to find some interest in this.