Healer

Does It Ever End?

Jimin looked up, eyes wide. Heat crept into his face as hope, doubt, and shame warred in his heart. "You-- am I that loud?" he whispered, gripping the front of his shirt.

"Nah," Namjoon said softly, "I'm just awake around that time. I know what it's like."

Jimin sucked in a breath, looking away. "I'm sorry--"

"Don't be," Namjoon ruffled his hair, smiling sadly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Just come down to my room, I won't say anything."

"But..." Jimin sighed, leaning against Namjoon. "I already take so much."

"Trust me, you take a lot less than you think," Namjoon said, matching his sigh.

"I can't just... just..."

"Jimin, really," Namjoon said. "You don't have to do it right away. Just, please, try to work up to it. Everyone wants you to feel safer."

"I do feel safe," Jimin protested.

"Lucky you," Namjoon said softly, resting a hand against the back of Jimin's neck. Jimin shivered, and as their eyes met, he knew the lie had been discovered. Namjoon sighed softly, the corners of his mouth drooping.

"Please try," he said.

And Jimin felt his heart plummet.

***

He lay under the covers, fighting to suppress his sobs, sure that at any moment he would be discovered. He didn't want to think about what would happen the next morning, when the guards at his door would discover he was even less presentable than he'd made himself the evening before. The room was warm, filled with the sound of soft breathing from all sides. They were pressed close together, each perhaps hyper-aware of the others, each bound by an unspoken promise not to give the others away.

A small hand reached through the covers, taking his and squeezing it gently. He knew immediately that it was meant to comfort and warn him at the same time. It will be okay, the hand seemed to say. It will be okay, as long as they don't find you. Quiet. They will come.

Darkness swallowed him, and he gasped, sitting up. The room around him was empty, save for the chest of drawers in the corner and the moonlight streaming in through the open window. He drew his knees up to his chest, hugging himself, and sobbed, pain flaring in his chest. It seemed to spread through him in an instant, reawakening everything he'd felt while he was alone, fighting just to breathe, to be alive, to live one more painful day--though he had no hope of release.

Why had he only begun to give up after his rescue?

"Jimin." 

I'm only being quiet because I'm tempted to quote memes I barely understand. Putting these books up makes me more tense than it should. :p