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Taehyung doesn’t know how he ended up here, right at this point. There’s an unforgiving fog covering everything near him. He can’t even make out the opposite riverbank in the dark, it’s as if the bridge nearest to him leads into nothingness. The glow of the city lights is obscured by the wall of grey, everything looks different at this time of the night.
He left the club shortly after midnight. The suffocating air, the sweating bodies, the emotions running high, the freely flowing alcohol? It’s been too much. He had been looking forward to going out, celebrating the end of the semester with his friends, but it doesn’t change the fact that he hadn’t been able to handle the overload of sensory input at some point. He’d almost run out of the building, couldn’t get out fast enough as he weaved his way to the exit, there’d been no time to tell his friends that he was leaving. Only when he was out on the street again, panting heavily, he felt like he was able to breathe again, his breath visible in the frosty night air.
Taehyung is walking along the riverbank after he’s been aimlessly strolling around the city for most of the night. The air is even colder now that he is enclosed by the humidity of the river fog. He’s shivering, his hair hanging damp and clammy into his eyes. It’s the thought of going back to the dorm, where his roommate has his friends over to drink and smoke, which keeps him from returning home. He can’t handle other people right now, especially the kind of people his roommate is involved with. The last time he looked at his watch, it was past three in the morning. He should head back to the other side of the river at least, maybe get a taxi to Namjoon’s and Jeongguk’s flat. He knows where his friends keep their spare in case they aren’t back yet, and he’s sure neither of them wouldn’t mind him crashing on the couch. Taehyung heads up to the bridge, glad that it can be crossed by foot. Every step feels like his legs are filled with lead. Every breath of the humid, freezing air hurts in his lungs. His clothes don’t feel like his own anymore with the way they are clinging to his clammy skin. When he reaches the top of the stairs, he stalls. Staring in wonder. For most of the night, he felt as if he was the only person left on earth, this side of the river eerily deserted, almost like he landed in a sort of distorted dystopian fantasy world. But there, not far from the landing, is a man, his head buried in his arms, resting them on the balustrade, blond hair peeking out from under a beanie, the tousled strands almost gleaming under the light of the street lamp. Taehyung is about to walk by when the man moves and takes a few steps towards the bridge, but then he collapses, his knees hitting the pavement with a sound so hopeless it sends a shiver down Taehyung’s spine. The man whimpers, his breath ragged and erratic. He sounds desperate, so forlorn, that Taehyung doesn’t even know what he’s doing until he comes to stand next to the man who’s cowering on the ground. “Hey, are you okay?” he tries carefully, attempting to keep the sound of worry out of his voice. “W-would you please leave me alone?” The voice is like a beacon in the darkness, so silver and bright, yet so empty and unsteady. He doesn’t even look up as he stutters out the words, and something in Taehyung’s chest clenches uncomfortably. There’s no way Taehyung is going to leave someone as desperate as this man alone. On a bridge. At four in the morning. In the dark. Not going to happen. So he simply sits down next to him. He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, his chin put in the crevice between his knees as he hugs his legs to his chest, the coldness of the pavement seeping in through his jeans, but he couldn’t care less. There’s this feeling that takes possession of him, making it impossible for him to leave. This man needs someone right now. Anyone. And since no one but Taehyung is around, he’s going to be that someone. He’s going to be that someone for this bundle of despair on the floor, in this long, cold night. “I’m not going to kill myself,” the man says eventually, the heaviness of his breathing still audible in his voice. “I’ve never said that,” Taehyung replies, but he can’t deny that his heart feels lighter when he hears it voiced out. The possibility that this was why the other man was on the bridge in the first place crossed Taehyung’s mind, he’s not going to lie. For a little while longer, they sit on the ground in silence. For a little while longer, Taehyung listens to the breathing of the man next to him slowly evening out. He’s still shaking, his face still buried in his hands. “You are not going to leave, are you?” Maybe, just maybe there’s a small hint in his voice, an indication that tells Taehyung that he doesn’t want him to leave. That flicker of hope shining through. “No.” He won’t. “It’s the bridge,” the man stutters suddenly, taking Taehyung by surprise. “I-I can’t. I’m scared. I just want to go home, but I can’t—” His despair is near palpable, and then he looks up for the first time in what feels like hours. His eyes are dark, red-rimmed, and they widen slightly when he looks at Taehyung now, almost like he has expected someone completely different. Taehyung knows that his deep voice doesn’t match his face. Yoongi sometimes calls him their fairy-faced friend with the devilish voice. Which is a stupid exaggeration, and Taehyung usually just ignores him. When he tears his gaze away from the eyes and takes in the rest of the face of the man who is staring at him, he can’t help to think, that the bright voice must be the voice of a freaking angelic being, because the man looks ethereal, not even the tired eyes can diminish the fairness of his features. For a few seconds, he’s hit with the irrational thought that the man might be a fallen angel, sent for testing him, that he indeed ended up in a fantasy world where it’s just him and the man. It must be the remnant of the alcohol that’s running through his system, although he barely had anything to drink this night. Nevertheless, he knows he has to help. Has to, because he has never seen someone this hopeless before. Of course he wonders how the other man ended up here, but then again, Taehyung himself doesn’t know why his feet led him here in the first place. “I know it looks scary,” Taehyung says, remembering how he had thought earlier that the bridges all looked like they were leading into nothingness. He’s not sure if this is what the other man is scared of when it comes to the bridge, but Taehyung wants to let him know that he isn’t crazy just because he’s stranded here. The man gulps at that, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. He doesn’t say anything, averts his gaze, his eyes darting to the place where the fog swallows the road ahead, and Taehyung hopes he’s not going to panic again. “I’m here,” he says. And magically, he looks away from the bridge, the dark orbs focusing on Taehyung. “Are you going to tell me your name?” Taehyung asks, and he’s afraid he’s ventured too far when the question leaves his lips. But then the man answers, quietly and shy, but he answers. “Jimin,” he whispers, “My name is Jimin.” “Jimin,” Taehyung echoes, “I’m Taehyung, and we’re going to cross this bridge. Together. We’re going to get you home.” He doesn’t know where he takes the determination from, he who’s been strolling around the city all night. Feeling aimless, useless, and a little forlorn himself. “I don’t think I can,” Jimin replies, his voice small and shaky again. “Do you think you can stand up for now?” Taehyung asks hesitantly. He doesn’t want to push Jimin, but they both need to get up from the cold ground if they don’t want to catch a cold due to hypothermia. But Jimin nods, and Taehyung hastens to stand up so he can help him up from the pavement. It’s easy to pull him up, and then they’re both standing, facing each other. Jimin is smaller than Taehyung, not by much, but Taehyung has to look down when he wants to catch Jimin’s gaze with his again, give the other man something to focus on. “Okay, come walk with me? I’ll be next to you all the time. And we can stop if you need a break, take it slow.” They start walking, but Taehyung realizes after about ten steps in that it’s not going to work. Jimin’s breathing is getting unsteady again, and when Taehyung looks at him, his eyes are widened, panicked, and moist with tears. He stops instantly. “Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” Jimin breathes. His voice has lost its sound altogether. “It’s not. We all have our weaknesses. I ran out of a club tonight because I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore. I didn’t even say goodbye to my friends. I just left. This isn’t any different.” “You did?” “Yeah,” Taehyung admits. “I did.”
This might be the first time he’s talked to someone about his claustrophobia. He shivers when he thinks back to the situation at the club, how the walls suddenly felt too narrow, too close, too suffocating. But this isn’t about him, this is about getting Jimin to the other side, getting him home. “I might have an idea, but— please don’t freak out, okay?” Jimin nods uncertainly. “I could carry you.” Taehyung knows it’s a lot what he’s offering. He’s asking Jimin to trust him. Completely. Although he’s nothing but a stranger, a guy who decided to stay, rather than walk away. But maybe it suffices, maybe it’s enough. “I don’t know,” Jimin says quietly, “It’s a long way.” “Don’t worry about that. I’m stronger than I look.” “But—” “I promise I’ll get you over there safely, Jimin.” Maybe it’s the use of his name, but there’s something almost hopeful gleaming in the dark eyes at Taehyung’s words. “We could try, I guess.” Taehyung’s heart clenches. Finally, he’s done something right. Everything’s going to be okay. He crouches down in front of Jimin, feeling the hesitation hanging heavy in the air. Eventually, Jimin slings his arms around his neck and his legs around Taehyung’s waist. And when Taehyung gets up, holding Jimin safely against him, supporting the weight of his body with his hands under Jimin’s tense thighs, he notices how the nightly darkness around them is slowly fading into the dull grey of an early morning. “Close your eyes, Jimin.” He can’t see if the man on his back actually closes his eyes, but the grip on his neck tightens ever so slightly. “Ready?” When Jimin nods, his fringe softly touching Taehyung’s hair once, then twice Taehyung starts walking towards the other side, which is still engulfed in the white, dense fog. Jimin’s breath is hot against the back of his neck, and it’s quickening again, getting shallower. “Jimin, breathe with me. I know you can do it.” Taehyung knows he can. He knows they are going to make it to the other side, he managed to get Jimin to trust him enough to share his fear with him, to climb on his back, and whatever comes now, they are going to pull through. Taehyung tries to let his own breathing sound deep and steady, despite the additional effort of carrying the smaller man on his back.
Three steps, breathe in.
Three steps, breathe out.
It works. Jimin’s breathing pattern is evening out, he’s following the exact rhythm of Taehyung’s footsteps.
Three steps, breathe in.
Three steps, breathe out.
He tries to think of other possibilities to take Jimin’s mind off of where he is, take it off the eerie whisper of the dark river water flowing below them, take it off the fact that they are in the midst of the fog now, the visibility not lasting longer than to the next pier of the bridge. So he simply starts talking. Talks about everything that comes to mind. How glad he is that the semester is over, that he’s looking forward to visiting his parents over the break, that he’s actually excited to do his assigned photography project. He tells him about the shenanigans of Yoongi’s dog and the slyness of Jeongguk’s and Namjoon’s cat. He tells him that he wants to go to the sea together with his friends for a few days, tells him about the small, affordable cottage. How he’s looking forward to tasting the salty air on his tongue, hear the sound of the waves, feel the wind on his skin. His voice and steps are the only things he can hear, all other sounds are swallowed by the fog, there’s no car on the bridge, no people using their way. He keeps listening to Jimin’s breathing, but it stays calm, still following the set rhythm, his body is relaxing too, no longer rigid against him. And then Taehyung can see the end of the bridge, the last pier and the slope that leads down to the riverbank. “We made it,” Taehyung says softly when they are on solid ground again. It’s the first time since they started on the other side that he can feel Jimin move on his back, and Taehyung releases his grip on Jimin’s thighs so he can slide down his back. It has taken all but about eight minutes to get to the other side, but to Taehyung it feels as if a whole lifetime has passed when Jimin comes to stand beside him. All the things Taehyung still wanted to tell him, are deleted from his mind when the fog starts to clear, losing the fight against the warming rays of sunlight which begin to peak over the hills in the distance. It’s almost magical. In a matter of minutes, the last veils of the fog are lifting, the dark, unfathomable night replaced by a bright, clear morning. Taehyung is afraid to turn his head, afraid that Jimin has been a product of his mind. But he’s still there, staring at the scenery in front of them, his face relaxed, his lips slowly turning into a soft smile when his eyes meet Taehyung’s. “Thank you,” he says. Taehyung’s heart sinks, because he knows it’s time to say goodbye. And he doesn’t want to go yet, doesn’t want to leave the bubble they’ve created. Taehyung would lie if he said that he could just go and forget about the man with the angelic face, which is even more beautiful, now that he’s smiling. “Don’t mention it,” he replies. “Well then,” Jimin says. Taehyung has a hard time to breathe against the tightness in his throat, and all but gives Jimin a little wave before he turns around and starts walking away. Suddenly, the sounds of the city are deafening in his ears. He knows this night is going to stay with him for a long time. He knows he’s never going to forget. Each step he takes hurts, each breath he takes burns in his throat. Why does it feel so wrong? Why is it so hard to walk away? Why is every nerve ending in his body screaming at him to turn back around? “Taehyung!” Once again, the voice is like a beacon. This time shining through the darkness in Taehyung’s mind. He turns around. Jimin is still standing where he left him, waving as he starts running towards him. He’s panting when he reaches Taehyung. “Do you want to go grab some coffee?” The pain in Taehyung’s chest eases, he can breathe freely again. “I’d love to.”