bts otp oneshots♡completed

saccharine pt.2>>namjin

My chest heaved up and down as I knocked on the wooden door. I wasn't ready for this day. It was sunny and the trees were budding with greens of all kinds. However, my heart budded with all kinds of hurt. My white low Converse were a bit dirty from running in the dirt with them, running in the dirt with him. A smile tugged at my lips at the memory of his soft hands on mine.

"Hello Ji-" His eyes went wide when he caught sight of my face. His eyes were puffier than usual and his brown hair sat like nest on his head. "Hey." he smiled weakly at me, curving his mouth a bit. He moved to the side allowing me to come inside his home. He still wore his pajamas even though it was in the afternoon. The t-shirt he wore was mine previously before he claimed it as his own. I was about two sizes bigger than him so the shirt tugged at his shoulders, holding on while his collarbone was completely exposed.

I looked around my surroundings. This house was like my second home and yet it seemed so foreign. The bright blues that were in the living room were grey and the flowers on the coffee table were withering with death. Even his skin was paler than usual and his eyes showed no emotion but yet they screamed for help. I sat down on the couch and began getting comfortable, pushing my back into the pillows. He stood up, looking down at the floor and ruffling his hair, a nervous habit of his.

"How's it going?" I asked to clear up the thick atmosphere of silence. Saying the words left a pasty taste in my mouth and I coughed a little. He looked at me worriedly only to gain back the emotionless style again. "Come sit down." my voice was hoarse as I tried to contain my tears that threatened to escape my eyes. He shuffled a bit before sitting on the far end of the pale furniture. I just want to hold you.

It was my turn to perform my nervous habit, the only problem was I was wearing a short sleeved shirt. I resorted to tugging at the end of my shirt. Wrinkling the neatly sewn hem. I could feel eyes burning holes into my spine. I felt arms embrace my torso and a rain like substance soak my shirt. He was crying. "Please.." I whispered as I pulled on his chin and wiped his tears. He continued to sob, his body sending vibrations through mine.

I grabbed his hands, intertwining my fingers with his and pulling him closer to my body. He choked on his tears as he snuggled into my chest. I hated seeing him cry, I wish I could take all of his sadness away. Just bundle it away for a rainy day. Our last day together couldn't end this way.

Suddenly, arms pulled my neck down and I was now looking at him. His eyes were a painful shade of red and I looked into them. I could feel his hot breath brushing over my lips. We sat in the position for a few moments before he finally captured his lips in mine. At first I was at a lost for words and didn't know what to do. It felt strangely okay, like it was something normal, something we should've did a long time ago.

He let go before nuzzling his head in my neck. His breaths became steady once again and his arms draped at my sides, wrapping me in a loose embrace. "I love you." He whispered softly into my ear.

I miss you.

-7 years later-

I never knew life could be this hard. Waking up in the morning only to be dumped with responsibilities. Knowing that things I wanted to do couldn't be achieved because of my job and having to feed myself. Crying every night had become a calming mechanism for me. It was better than screaming.

I always woke up to that one picture. It sat on my nightstand with a shiny glass frame. The picture of him and I. My first love. Our arms were draped around each other and we were smiling so brightly that the sun seemed so dim. Only the two of us were shining. These days, it was just something, someone I left behind.

I wondered if he remembered me. If he still cared where I was or what I was doing. If he had a memory of me still stuck in his brain that he pushed away or so he tried to. If he still remembered the first kiss we took from each other. Maybe he had another guy who could give him the love he deserved, even a girl. Thinking about it makes my chest hurt. Aching for someone that forgot about me.