YOONGI
"That's all for today."
Jimin gets up and leaves with barely more than a goodbye, as he's done for the past three days, and impatience snaps inside me like a rubber band.
The night of the Halloween party left me hollow, but I couldn't do or say anything to convince him that I'm not the bad guy— because if I tried, it wouldn't be the truth. As for Namjoon, I haven't seen a trace of him, which I guess is a taste of my own medicine. Maybe it was because Jimin was in the room with me that I snapped at my friend I've known for years. Or maybe it was because I wanted to tell him, but couldn't chance the risk of exposing Jimin to him, nor to anyone.
In either case, I could tell from simply looking in Jimin's eyes that today was a struggle in class. It's easy to tell when he's upset, simple to read if you really focus, but that means others are able to input their own opinions as to why the small kid in the back brushes off the questions I try to give him. They don't understand why he won't look at me, why I let him doodle in his notebook instead of following along in our group reading.
We haven't been seen in the same room aside from my lectures in a week, and I don't dare track him down. So long as he shows up to class, that's good enough for me, even if my heart betrays me and screams to find him.
It's another ten minutes before I'm finally alone in the classroom when my door cracks open. For a moment, my hopes get the better of me, believing that Jimin had a sudden change of heart and is standing on the other side with arms outstretched for me to hold. I whirl in my seat.
Jin stands in the doorway.
The weight of my tie is heavy around my neck, and I reach up to adjust it as he gives me a quick smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Normally, I would object to sudden visits, but it seems hypocritical of me to enforce that rule when Jimin has walked in on multiple occasions. I watch as Jin sits on a desk in front of me; it's casual enough, but the folded hands in his lap makes me think of an intervention.
"Hey," he says, his expression neutral. "Do you have a minute?"
I nod and move to close the door. Jin sits there with a sigh, tilting his head back. He stays like that until I take a seat behind my desk.
"Are you trying to get a tan?" I say.
His eyes snap open and he inhales sharply. "No. It's too cold in here for that."
"I hadn't realized."
"I know," he says. "You can be quite dense sometimes, but so can Namjoon, so you both have that in common."
Of course we do.
"He told you what happened?"
Jin shakes his head. "Didn't need to. I put the pieces together. I figured after he shut himself in that something was going on, and it only took context clues to lead me back to when he went to check up on you."
I should give him more credit. What had he searched through to get here, at the scene of my crimes? I look at him out of the corner of my eye, thinking about how the room smelled of fries and burgers the last time he was in here with Namjoon. That seems so long ago.
"Does he hate me?"
He scoffs, a smile forming under his lips. "As much as he tries, he'll never be able to hate you," he says. "Namjoon has never been the type to leave memories behind in the heat of a moment. That's probably what I envy the most about him, how he's so forgiving toward the people who don't deserve it."
"I'm one of those people." It's not a tactic for him to feel guilty for me. It's a fact, a truth I'm willing to admit out loud. Most likely the only truth I can admit out loud without bringing anyone down with me.
He straightens. "I'm going to say this once: You will never be one of them. He has fought too many battles with you and stayed up too many nights on calls with you about shit that goes over my head. You and him will be on even ground. There's nothing taken or owed, and there's nothing broken. He just wants to know why his friend left him."
"I can't tell him." My confession, when it comes, is just as quiet as his, but it's so shameful. I'm ashamed of myself, of what I've become. I've turned into something people like Jimin should fear; a monster in love with an angel.
The dimming sunlight outlines his profile, broad shoulders against the golden glow. We are both so tired, each for our own different reasons. Though I don't know him as much as Namjoon, I want to be honest with Jin. For once, I want to be the one venting.
I cover my face. "I swear, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think there was another way."
Jin nods. "You wouldn't threaten exposing us if you didn't have a damn good reason."
I lift my head, staring at him as he gives me a pitying look, like he's watching me outside a zoo while I'm the animal held in captivity, forced to be spectated by all who spare a glance.
"So," he says. "What's the reason?"
When I don't answer, he presses further.
"Are you sworn to secrecy?"
Still no answer.
"Because if you got yourself in trouble on someone else's account, I'm going to be pissed," he adds.
"I'm not in trouble," I say.
"So you're keeping someone out of trouble." He pauses. "They must be important to you."
"More than anyone will ever know," I say, and that's all the answer he needs. I really am just a wildfire, destroying everything that can get close enough for me to consume.
"I'm sorry."
It's like we're communicating telepathically, not needing to speak aloud to let the other know empathy is reaching each of us. Out of everyone on this campus, Jin would know what it's like to keep a relationship secret. He would understand how it feels to calculate your response to any comment regarding your personal life and coming up with a believable lie on the spot. I wish he knew just how much I appreciated him being here, a reminder that people like him live in the shadows of the ones who speak louder.
"Do you love them?"
It's like the air sharpens around us, and my entire body tenses and then releases just as quickly like armor being stripped away. An ingrained response to such a question, a reaction that both of us have. Namjoon was his secret, the real love no one knew but me, and he couldn't have fully trusted me back then when I was a stranger.
I know Jin, but I don't. He knows me, but doesn't.
I picture Jimin standing in front of me, waiting for my answer. His youth shining bright on his face, a true beauty that casts doubt on the inevitable fact that he will eventually grow old, maybe grow a family that won't be my own. He'll graduate and move on, thinking back on me every few years or so, reflecting on that one professor that obsessed over him too much to the point of acting pathetic.
"I do," I say. "I love them so much it hurts them."
He stands and walks around the desk to pat my shoulder. "Someone's bound to get hurt. Everything done to protect someone almost always ends up in flames. That's why our hearts have rib cages to protect us, because we get so caught up in saving others that we don't realize we're burning until it's too late."
"And you had to endure that while being with Namjoon?"
"I did. I still do. And I'll continue walking through a burning world with him until my legs snap off."
We're quiet again, taking in each other's words, advice, and experience. I wouldn't mind it if Jin didn't walk away from me and return to the desk like we have unfinished business. He sits with his hands in his lap, perfect posture.
"You're an idiot, you know," he says.
"Gee, thanks."
"I don't mean that as an insult. I'm an idiot, too, in my own way." He leans forward, narrowing his eyes and letting a small smile come into view. "But even idiots like me know that friends are always here for emotional, logical, and reasonable support, even without knowing all the details."
I nod. "Thanks, Jin."
He stands and heads for the door before pausing, turning back to me. "Free advice?"
I nod.
"If they mean this much to you, let them know. Make sure they know just how much you're willing to go the extra mile for. And when you do, don't let them go."
"I will."
"You're a good person. Remember that."
I stay at my desk as he leaves, shutting the door behind him. It's only after I'm certain I'm alone do I release the breath I had been holding back all this time.