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It all started one brisk autumn day. The foliage had been changing colors, a breathtaking array of coppers, golds, and scarlet. But just as quickly, the delicate leaves dried and withered, their brown, lifeless forms cascading to the ground. Jimin realized how fleeting the days were and decided he needed to take action. He was going to tell his best friend Jungkook how he felt. For better or for worse.
Mustering up all of his courage, Jimin carefully broke off a piece of his heart, wrapping it with strings of hesitation and placing a bow of earnest sincerity on top. With a charming grin and a twinkle in his eyes, Jungkook received the gift with one hand, thoughtlessly tossing it into his bag, filled with hopeless confessions and yearning letters, tokens from other admirers.
Jimin cringed, but pulled himself together. For better or for worse. At least he tried. He did the best to bandage up the remainder of his heart and convinced himself he would recover and move on.
Months passed by. But his breath still caught in his throat when Jungkook slung his arm around his neck, his stomach still did somersaults when Jungkook’s laughter rang bright and clear at his jokes, his hand still trembled when Jungkook teasingly interlaced his long fingers with his own.
Another few months went by. Jungkook’s playful text messages, affectionate hugs, and sweet compliments came more and more often.
Jimin cautiously broke off another piece of his heart. this time securely wrapped with ribbons of wary optimism. Jungkook accepted the gift, this time a little more gently, a little more sympathetically.
But a couple months later, Jungkook accidentally let that piece shatter to the floor, when he was too busy flirting with the new dance instructor. Jungkook apologized, Jimin forgave. Again and again, Jimin broke off another piece of his heart, only for Jungkook to crush it or lose it.
Jimin decided he had had enough. He had given Jungkook almost all of his love, he only had one piece of his heart left and he couldn’t risk losing that too. He was going to tell Jungkook that he needed space, to get over him, to clear his feelings. He asked Jungkook to meet him at the coffee shop. When Jungkook arrived, Jimin had a resolute look in his eyes, and with an unwavering voice, declared, “Jungkook, let’s stop this.” He continued on, determined to get everything off his chest, recounting all of the ways Jungkook had hurt him, all of the times he had forgiven Jungkook, all of the days he spent alone and confused. Jimin was finally starting to feel lighter, freer, at peace.
Until Jungkook leaned over and pressed their lips together. Jimin’s lips parted in surprise, and Jungkook deepened the kiss. Jimin’s head spun with dizzying exhilaration, heart pounding with fear and excitement. When they finally separated, Jungkook had won the last piece of Jimin’s heart.
Everything went really well for months. The two were inseparable, trying new things together, exploring new places, talking endlessly into the nights, spending hours wrapped in each other’s arms. Jimin was finally happy. He thought that the relationship was finally turning for the better.
Until one day he let himself into Jungkook’s house. The lights were off, but Jimin saw Jungkook’s shoes and bag strewn across the floor. He should be home..
He was. As Jimin pushed Jungkook’s bedroom door open, there he was. Bare chest pressed against that of a girl’s - a girl with pale skin, rosy lips, soft curves. Limbs were tangled, breaths were ragged, sweat and musk filled the air. Of course, Jimin should’ve known. Why would Jungkook want him when he could have a girl like that?
"Wait, hyung—" Jimin heard, as he closed the door behind him and walked out, feeling empty. Just empty.
The wounds created by Jungkook were beyond healing — scabs ripped open one time too many, salt poured onto fresh cuts one time too many.
Jungkook handed back the last piece of Jimin’s heart, the torn strands haphazardly taped in place with pity, remorse, and apologetic whispers. The air felt thick, stuffy, heavy. Thick with evaporated tears, stuffy with unsaid disappointment, heavy with broken promises. Dark, guilt-ridden eyes avoided the soft, longing gaze that had wordlessly hoped for a happy ending.
But to no avail.
They say that as long as two people make the effort, a relationship can endure all sorts of ups and downs. But what about when those efforts are one-sided?
One person is left to pick up the pieces of his broken heart. In Jimin’s case, there was only one piece left.