withering leaves ❁ yoonmin

XV

"You going to the company dinner tonight?" Yoongi had asked him one morning, the two of them curled up on the couch next to each other, Yoongi with a notebook in his lap and Jimin reviewing the footage of their latest dance practice.

"Company dinner? What company dinner?"

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, clicking his ballpoint pen closed. "You know.. the dinner. With the company."

"I know what a company dinner is, Hyung. But what for? Boy In Luv promotions haven't started, Hoseok-Hyung's birthday's not for nearly three weeks, and I don't think it's a holiday."

"Oh," Yoongi just said lamely. He slouched back against the couch, biting the end of his pen. "It's Bighit's Founding Anniversary. Nine years to the day. February 1, 2005. I thought you knew...?"

"No... no one told me," Jimin set down his phone on the coffee table, wringing his hands in thought. The heaviness in his lungs is almost unbearable. He can feel the flower petals blooming, blocking his airways. He manages to choke out, "Why wouldn't they t-tell me...?"

"We found out yesterday at dance practice, Jiminie. You were at a vocal lesson. The managers probably just forgot to tell you about it," Yoongi explained. It still did nothing to soothe the lump in Jimin's throat.

"But none of you guys told me about it," Jimin said, his tone accusatory.

"We got home after eleven. We were tired and we just forgot."

"How can you forget something like that?!"

"I don't know! We're just used to everyone being there and-" Yoongi suddenly cut himself off and took a deep breath to calm his temper. "Listen, we really didn't mean to keep this from you. But you are invited. Do you want to go?"

"I..." Jimin paused and thought about the question. Did he really want to go? Did he really want to see the judgemental and pitying faces of the BigHit staff? With a resounding huff and a strong set of his shoulders, Jimin replied, "No. I don't," and laid his head on Yoongi's shoulder.

"Good," Yoongi huffed, setting his head on Jimin's shoulder as he scribbled a few more words down in his notebook. Jimin chanced a look at the newest words, even though he knew Yoongi would literally knock his head in if he ever found out that Jimin was peeking at his unfinished songs. 'Why do I fall in love when I'll just get heartbroken?'. It takes Jimin a moment to realize that Yoongi is like him: another lost soul, incomplete without his soulmate. They're just two lonely people, drawn together by luck or misfortune. It just depended on how you saw the entire situation.

"I didn't want to go either," Yoongi finishes his thought, snapping the notebook closed. He's halfway through this notebook, now, even though he had just bought it two weeks ago. Each page is filled to the brim with scribbles, notes, highlighted phrases that he wants to come back to, and even features some ripped-out pages when the words just didn't seem to fall in place right that day.

Jimin wishes he could do that in real life. Rip out a memory, crumple it up and start anew. Toss it aside and leave it to wither away like leaves in the fall. But this is real life; you can't do that.

"Jimin-ah?" Yoongi asks after a moment of silence-not the awkward kind, but the comforting kind. The one that wraps around you like a blanket, leaving your heart feeling warm and free.

"Hmm?" Jimin hums, too content in their current position to form words, let alone complete, coherent sentences.

"You're going to be fine. Trust me."

Jimin wants to laugh and regurgitate all the statistics he's researched, all the facts and studies that will prove Yoongi wrong. They're the same facts he's told everyone else countless times before. But for the first time since he began coughing out petals, Jimin feels a lightness in his throat, like the petals are retreating. He keeps his mouth shut in lieu of listening to the sound of Yoongi's breathing. The producer's fallen asleep already, exhausted from back-to-back late-night dance practices and producing stints. Jimin doesn't blame him.

Jimin shifts his shoulder a bit so that Yoongi's neck isn't at such an uncomfortable angle. He looks down at his Hyung, brushing down the unruly brown strands that had just been dyed for their upcoming comeback, less than two weeks away.

Isn't it strange how Min Yoongi, a complete stranger from another province in Korea, knows more about Jimin than Jimin's parents do? Yoongi knows about the hanahaki, what Jimin's favorite coffee flavor is, what his favorite songs to freestyle to are, and most importantly, how he needs to be wrapped around another member while taking naps in the middle of the day.

Bright shocks of bitterness and anger roll through his body like waves. He laughs as carefully and ruefully as possible, not wanting to disrupt Yoongi with too much movement.

"Ah, Hyung..." Jimin lays his head against the back of the couch, savoring the clear and light feeling in his throat and lungs. He took a deep breath, the comforting scent of Yoongi's mint and tea tree shampoo wafting in the surrounding area. "Why couldn't you have been my soulmate?"

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