•47•

                                    

                                          
"Joon-ah," Yoongi calls through the door, "Joon-ah, can I come in?"
                          
It's only been a few hours since Namjoon got the news, he isn't fine. He is so not fine. He's been laying in bed, flipping through his phone to stare at the few pictures he had collected of Seokjin.
                          
When he got to the image he had taken of the lock, the lock that they had taken to Namsan Tower with both of their initials on it, he could feel a bitter acridity of jealousy when he stared at the locks around theirs.
                          
Surely the majority of couples had made it through together. It was probably easier for them, they didn't hold the weight of a whole country on their shoulders, nor did they separate from each other because of death.
                          
Other romances probably went a lot better than his.
                          
There was an aching feeling in his chest. This was all because of who he was. Because of the family he had been born into. 
                          
He, Kim Namjoon, King of Korea who had been born into a life of being told what to do and how to be and how to talk and think and move.
                          
You should also make decisions that make you happy.
                          
Seokjin. Seokjin had been a breath of fresh air when the lifestyle he lived in suffocated him.
                          
You should also make decisions that make you happy.  

                          
Happiness. That seemed unattainable at the moment.
                          
Unable to take the pain anymore, he reached into his drawers and pulled out the alcohol.
                          
He'd think about happiness later. Right now, he needed something to make the ache in his heart go away. Needing to numb the pain, needing desperately to make it go away, he drank glass after glass.
                          
It didn't help. He'd remember why he was drinking and then the pain would just come back all over again.
                          
A part of him still wanted to cling on to hope. Still wanted to believe there was still a chance.
                          
But the pictures were right next to his bed and he seemed like a lunatic repeating the process over and over.
                          
Grief was a funny thing.
                          
The thing about the death of a loved one, is that the universe sometimes gives you a chance to say goodbye when the other knows he's going to die.
                          
It seemed like Seokjin knew. 
                          
They had had closure that day, they had joked with each other backstage and flirted.
                          
All of it seemed so perfect. They both had been fine.
                          
Stupid Seokjin, is a thought that comes to Joon's mind. Hadn't he talked and talked about putting himself first and loving himself first?
                          
Yet at his last moment he selflessly begged for Namjoon to save Jimin and probably also did it thinking that if Namjoon went down there he himself could've been under the rubble.
                          
Stupid Seokjin. Why go so far for me?
                          
He broke down again. It didn't surprise him anymore how weak he was, tears hadn't stopped falling from his face. Yoongi was right outside his door and the other must've just gotten tired of pretending that he didn't hear Namjoon's continuous sobs into the sheets.
                          
"Joon-ah, please."
                          
Namjoon needs company anyway. It's saddening to drink alone. "Come in."
                          
The door clicks open, Yoongi is one of the few people that know the code to his room, so he could've entered whenever he wanted, but Yoongi had given him space and had waited on his permission to enter.