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“so,” jungkook began, blowing gently on his tea as he looked around at the table next to them, at the flickering lights in the third light bulb just to the right of him, the stained white uniform that the waitress was sporting, looking anywhere except at the man in front of him, “you’re with jimin-sii now?”
a hum came from yoongi, whose eyes never moved away from the younger’s. but in his defense, yoongi had missed a lot in those past ten years. because now, jungkook did not look anything like that frail boy he had left alone in the music room when he graduated, because jungkook no longer had those soft cheeks that often led to many restrained impulses of squeezing them, because jungkook no longer had his hair dyed that gentle purple hue that he had when yoongi last saw him. because now, jungkook was a grown up man, with sharp contours in his face sculpted by the years instead of the soft curves he once had as an amateur explorer of this world. because now, his hair was a solid black, contrasting ever so perfectly with his honey skin that seemed to have only gotten sweeter after all this time. because now, jungkook was strong, confident, but still ever so shy and lovely as he was back then. he had missed so much, so many changes, so many memories, so many chances.
“yes,” he responded after a few seconds, taking a gulp of his cold coffee before continuing, “we’re getting married in a month.”
it was those words that brought a halt to everything jungkook had been doing. he stopped midway from taking another drink, he stopped looking around at the trivial things surrounding them, he stopped thinking about maybe asking for another day together, to get familiar, to remember, to make new memories. his voice was a whisper that was carried by the wind, “oh.”
yoongi, then, for the first time that day, looked away. because if there was one thing that had not changed at all after all these years, it was jungkook’s doe eyes that seemed to always pull at his heart, warming it up, making it feel alive. he did not know why, in that moment, he apologized. and even if you asked him in the later years, when his left hand would carry a gold ring signifying a bond between him and his lover, he would not still know the answer (but really, it was only him who was trying to fool himself, because the answer had been clear since the beginning (because since the moment he saw jungkook in that music room all those years ago, there had been no doubt that they were always meant to be together (and perhaps this was what yoongi did not know, because his feelings for jungkook had always been so unique, so painfully real, so simple yet so utterly true that yoongi had no choice but to run away, towards something safer, something less limitless, something comfortable and not at all how jungkook had made him feel (and keeps making him feel)))) “i’m sorry.”
“for what, yoongi?” the lack of honorifics left a gaping hole inside yoongi, and when his eyes connected with jungkook’s, he could not see anything, because jungkook had placed every barrier possible to not show his feelings, and that lack of sincerity left yoongi reeling, and feeling like he was making a mistake (but how could it be a mistake, when he loved jimin with all his might? (jimin, who sang lullabies instead of kindled tunes. jimin, who always gently kissed him “good morning!” and “night, love” instead of having a petty argument when they both fought for the last cup of milk. jimin, who always played the piano by his side and made beautiful symphonies, instead of simply sitting next to him laughing freely as he let the music prevail in the air.))
his mouth felt dry despite having drank almost the whole cup in front of him, but he still responded to the question that would never leave his mind (why did he apologize?). “for leaving.”
jungkook smiled slightly, but his eyes did not crinkle in the corners like they usually did, nor did his cheek form that small dimple that only appeared in his small smiles. “you had to, though. that’s not your fault.”
(but it was, because he had a choice to stay, but ran instead)
they both stayed silent, letting the sounds of the coffee shop run through their ears, until yoongi had to speak again, to ask that question that had been itching him ever since he saw jungkook again, “would you like to play with me? To remember?”
jungkook‘s eyes widen, and when he looked away, he felt pathetic when he realized just how prickly his eyes had become, letting him know that tears were about to come. when he realized that yoongi was waiting for an answer, he gave him one, “i still don’t know how to play.”
“I’ll teach you,” was yoongi’s immediate response, from muscle memory, since that had always been his words when refuting jungkook's excuses. it was with the held of a breath and a thin tremor in his knee that he waited for the younger’s next words.
“okay,” came from jungkook, mirroring the same words he used to mutter a decade in the past.
yoongi leaned back, and huffed a sigh of relief because at least, he had not lost jungkook again (because at least, they were going to have one last day together).
and hours later, they both would find themselves side by side again, shoulders touching in the slightest as a tune began to grow steadily in the otherwise silent stage. yoongi’s fingers danced slowly, turning and twisting from one tone to the other. and jungkook, he simply let out a small laugh that resounded of melancholy and pain, as well as contentedness and satisfaction that made the elder move the slightest bit closer.
it was in lonely pianos with keys faded from use, unused classrooms during youth, and bitter coffees that they found each other again (just like they had all those years ago).
but alas, this story ends here.
because after playing another beautiful melody made perfect with the addition of small laughs and bumping of shoulders, the two went their own ways again. jungkook, to his life that would never be seen complete again, and yoongi to his fiance waiting for him in their home.
because this was not the life meant for them to live on.
but maybe in another life-