A lone gust of cool breeze flew past the idle man.

His copper irises roamed from the empty pavements to the dusty metal of the street lights. The cool surface of the bench pressed against him as Jimin sat slumped. His one leg was cocked forward, left straight, while the other supported his weight.

The incoming signals of winter left the air cold and lifeless. The dark contour of evening painted the canvas. Jimin's hair ruffled itself continuously as the heel of his boot impatiently ticked on one of the legs of the creaking wood. His black hoodie did nothing to keep him warm.

As he waited for his girlfriend to show up, his gaze loomed around the landscape. Just as always, he could feel shadows looming around his head as his eyesight limited itself to one color.

Grey pavement. Grey buildings. Grey lights. Dust littering his vision.

What was new? It was always the same.

And with some time on his hands, Jimin's mind drifted off to the conversation he had with Aria in the car.

He had been struggling for a while. They both knew that. And they both also knew that it had been a while since Jimin had opened up to anyone. 

Jimin closed his eyes in silent acknowledgement that he wasn't ready to open up to anyone else. Not a stranger. Not his sister. Not anyone. But most of all, he definitely couldn't open up to Aria. Because Jimin couldn't bear to talk to her about this anymore. It was as if he had exhausted all resources from her.

 It was always the same conversation over and over again, where Aria would advise him, he'd feel a second of stability. And then two days would pass and because Jimin was such a weak man, his reflexes would act up again. Mind jumping to overthink again.

Aria would get angry at him for not trying enough and behold the cycle continues. 

To be fair, Jimin didn't go to her anymore because he's bored. 

Bored of the same responses, emotions and growing fickleness of his head. Nevertheless, Aria would tell him to come to her if he needed to, but he didn't see the point in it.

She didn't know what it was like to have an intruder living in her mind, crossing all boundaries. She wouldn't know what it was like to get up in the morning and have anxiety already clogging up her throat in a way that she's not even allowed a chance to restart the day. She wouldn't know what it was like to be so burdened with guilt that she didn't allow herself to carry on with the one passion that she held true to her heart, perceiving it as some kind of punishment. 

Jimin noticed the unfairness of it all. That he had helped her when her mother had passed away. He had gotten her out of bed, washed her clothes, reminded her to eat. And he would do it for her again. Why was it so difficult for her to invoke some empathy onto him? How was it that she believed 'if you don't like the thought, just don't think it'?

Jimin's hand came up to rub over his face in fatigue. 

He suddenly remembered his family.

His family was a wonder to him. His family was like a matchbox and each person was a matchstick. A matchstick so easily struck and so easily lit to encompass an endless flame. A boiling hot flame of rage, anger. And the worst part is that they were never put out.

Jimin was always perceived as the calm one of the family. But in the end of the day, he too was a matchstick in that same matchbox. A matchstick, so untouched and pristine, for the longest time. 

But now it was charred. No flame had gotten to him but ashes surrounded him.

Burnt out, you could say. He didn't know if that was any better.

Jimin needed answers, but he wasn't going to get them so easily, now was he? 

"Hey, I'm here. Let's go," Aria spoke from the side as she tapped on his shoulders. Jimin lifted himself up as they walked to the car. 

His mind only looked for hidden embers.

A/N:

Well there you go. How was this chapter?

Thank you for reading.