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"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in our hearts."
-A.A. Milne
Jungkook met him when he was seven, small and meek, with cute space buns in his hair, while he was shiny and new, as sturdy as the time he was made of.
He remembered the first time little Jimin held him like he was the most magnificent thing he had ever beheld.
"It's so beautiful" Jimin said, eyes sparkling in awe."The most beautiful thing I had ever seen!"
His little fingers traced the fine details of Jungkook's uniform, caressed the wooden arm and the small hinges that made his elbow move. Jungkook felt warmth spread against his chest when Jimin leaned closed and kissed his tiny head.
That is a lie, Jungkook thought, knowing for sure that it was Jimin who deserved the title for being the most beautiful thing.
Jimin looked down at him innocently and smiled brightly as his fingers traced his shiny tiny face.
Jungkook stared into his eyes, delicate and so kind. He smiled.
"Jungkook" Jimin said as his grandfather told him that the name meant, to be the central pillar of the country, a brave title for a brave soldier. "I like that name."
At that, Jungkook felt himself come alive... and his eyes never left his ever since.
🩰
Jungkook first saw him dance at age of eight, and he was wonderful as little bright flowers in the spring could be. Jimin chose ballet, a dance Jungkook knew Jimin had taken from his grandmother who was a ballerina herself. He learned about this from his creator while he was being constructed, how little he danced like the twinkling stars poised exquisitely in the night sky. How his Jimin danced with grace and beauty, every move executed magnificently that you wouldn't be able to take your eyes off of him.
Jungkook did not understand how anyone could dance like the stars, but looking at him now, he began to understand.
Jimin danced across the room wearing a white canvas ballet flats, and Jungkook couldn't have seen a more beautiful sight. He would watch, entranced from his post near Jimin's bed, sitting beside Mr. Chimmy (a white old puppy bear with yellow hoodie who had been his friend since Jimin's toddler years) and Mary (the beautiful maiden wearing a baby blue dress and carrying a white shepherd's crook). Though little did Jungkook know Mary had been harboring a crush on him ever since she was given as a gift the previous Christmas.
The three of them watched Jimin as he glided across the floors, his little feet following the music as his arms swayed to follow.
"He's so good!" Mr. Chimmy said. Jungkook couldn't agree more as he watched him with a fond smile on his face.
Mary remained still, watching Jungkook with silent eyes. She thought about how they were paired at the tea party that morning. Jimin had placed them together side-by-side to Mary's surprise—a very good surprise—and Jungkook and she had to play bride and groom for the day. Mary was quite ruffled and flustered by the experience but Jungkook seemed more relaxed, pretending it was nothing. He was just carefully watching him. His beautiful ballerina, as Jimin poured the tea or gave them biscuits to eat.
Mary sighed and shook her head slightly, seeing that Jungkook wasn't going to budge under her stare... Not when his eyes were trained on him.
Always on him, Mary sighed.
🩰
Jungkook saw Jimin cry when he was thirteen, his bedroom door closing shut as swiftly as he had opened it, the sound reverberating through the walls with a loud bang.
Jungkook frowned and look down at him from the desk he was currently standing post at. His hands itched as he watched him sitting on the floor, looking helpless and broken. Jimin was muttering to himself, saying he didn't need friends who turned their backs on him, asking himself how people could be so cruel, and telling himself that maybe something's wrong with him, which was why he didn't have any real friends.
I'm your friend, Jungkook wanted to say. As if he had heard him, Jimin looked up and his eyes settled on his desk, right on the little soldier standing upright in his tiny uniform.
I'm your friend, Jungkook repeated as Jimin continued to stare at him, eyelashes wet with tears. Nothing's wrong with you. You're perfect and you're beautiful. And people are just jealous of that.
He blinked as a new set of tears spilled from his beautiful eyes, and Jungkook felt something in his chest hurt, his heart constricting at the sight even though he knew his tin chest was probably empty.
Don't cry, he thought, wanting so badly to reach out to Jimin and wipe his tears away.
But all he could do was watch.
🩰
Jungkook watched Jimin's room change as he grew, a bedroom turning into a practice studio where a dance floor laid in the corner, facing a full-length body mirror.
Despite the hardships Jimin experienced throughout the last few years, he never gave up on ballet. Dancing was the only thing that remained the same even after his parents got divorced, or when his friends turn their backs on him due to jealousy seeping through their bones when he started getting recognition for his talent.
But Jungkook always thought otherwise.
As Jimin practiced long hours in his makeshift dance studio, danced till his feet ached that he would cry, or did stacks of homework on his desk, there was one other thing that stayed.
One thing whose eyes never left his.
And never will, Jungkook promised as he watched his sleeping form hunched over the desk. Jimin had just finished writing his essay when exhaustion took over him like a wave, and Jungkook silently shook his head in his mind as Jimin was pulled into a deep sleep, wishing he didn't push himself too much.
Perfection had it's limits too.
Jungkook wanted nothing more but to brush his hair to the side and kiss his forehead good night.
But as always, all he could do was watch.
🩰
Jimin was angry—indignant as he gripped the phone to his ear, yelling words and profanities that hurt Jungkook's ear as much as they broke his heart.
He glared at the device in Jimin's hand, wanting to strangle whoever was making him upset. The name spilled from Jimin's lips once or twice, making Jungkook scoff.
Jungkook always knew that guy was trouble.
"We're over Eric! Now you can spend all your time with her!"Jimin yelled before ending the call with such brutal force. Jungkook thought his phone screen would crack.
Jimin stood there, panting slightly and Jungkook felt nervous. He looked angry, but fragile too, as if one touch would break him into a million pieces. He was turned sideways from him and he stared at him from the shelf; his new post since Jimin had gotten rid of his desk to have more room to dance.
Jimin looked at his phone blankly but in a few heartbeats, just as he had heard, the tears came and he watched as Jimin sank to his knees, sobbing violently.
The pain emanated from his body in waves that felt like a slap in Jungkook's face. He looked down at Jimin's crying form, feeling helpless and useless. He hated being on the shelf. He hated being unable to move at will. He hated how he couldn't comfort Jimin nor say the things he wanted to say.
He's not worth your tears. You are worth so much more, he wanted to say. But like always Jungkook could only watch with a heavy heart.
As Jimin sobbed on the floor, Jungkook felt something tingle on his cheek.
🩰
Jungkook was scared. Scared of the boxes surrounding his room.
He overheard Jimin's mother talking on the phone, saying how Jimin had gotten into a college, a school which apparently takes you away from home. Jungkook was outraged and disgusted by the idea.
How could anyone take him away from me?
"Yes sweetie" Jimin's mother said through the phone. "I'll have the boxes packed by tomorrow. Don't worry!"
Jungkook gulped, worry filling his bones like ice. He stared at the boxes segregated on each side of the room. He wasn't stupid; he knew that one side stays while the other goes away.
He frowned and wondered.
Which box do I belong to?
🩰
The next morning, Jungkook felt himself being lifted from the desk. He was old amd rusting and he hated how when mom lifted his arm, it made an awful squeaking sound.
"Such an old toy" he heard her say, and Jungkook felt the panic rising in his chest as he was placed inside the box along with a few other things. The last thing he thought of before the box's lid closed down on him was Jimin's smile: his beautiful, iridescent smile.
Please take me with you, he prayed just as the darkness swallowed him whole.
🩰
The box didn't move.
Not once.
Not ever.
Jungkook felt dead.
🩰
Darkness was something you could never get accustomed to, Jungkook missed seeing the light streaming for the windows when the mornings came or the moonlight hay washed the room in a bluish hazenat night.
But mostly, he miss him.
Jungkook didn't know how long he stayed in the box. He was too upset, too angry, too confused to even keep track of time.
It was hard—hard to have someone turn turn their backs on you without a second glance when all your life, all you did was look after them... make them see...
Love them.
But he guessed this was how it was. How reality was supposed to be.
Jungkook felt another tingle on his cheek, and when the moon's glow seeped through the edges of the box, he thought he saw something glisten. Like a tear.
🩰
Jungkook dreamt.
For the first time in his entire existence, he dreamt. Perhaps it was the result of being in the dark for so long when your eyes could see nothing, your imagination gets to work to satisfy your lack of sight.
Jungkook liked dreams. Because he felt real.
He was real in the dream and Jimin was right beside him, holding his hand, their fingers intertwined and fitting against each other so perfectly, it was almost like he was made to hold them.
Huh, he thought back to his creator and remembered how he spent almost five days perfecting the details of his hands and fingers.
Perhaps he really was made to his hand.
🩰
Click
The door opened.
"I'm not sure where I put it, but I'll go look for that soldier of yours."
Hope flared in Jungkook's chest at the sound of Jimin's mother voice.
Hope. He always hoped Jimin had come back for him. And with that etched in his thoughts, he let hope fill him up to the core.
🩰
Click
Jungkook opened his eyes to see lights. Lights so bright they were almost painful to look at. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, feeling his back ache, probably from lying down too long.
Lifting his hand from his eyes, he blinked once and was welcomed by the sight of a white ceiling. He blinked again before his eyes settled on his which was raised halfway to his face.
Wait.
Hands?!
Jungkook stood up so fast he felt the world spinning around him. He looked down at himself, bewildered by the sight of his moving limbs. He stared at his hands once again, raising it to his face and smiling when he discovered he could also move his fingers at will.
He turned and jump slightly when he saw his reflection for the first time against a mirror. He stood tall in a white shirt and dark slacks, his hair a messy flop of black with strands sticking on one end. Jungkook smiled at the sight.
No longer was he in his military uniform and black shoes, nor in the huge hat that covered most of his head.
He was real.
He wondered if he was dreaming.
If he was, he hoped he would never wake up.
🩰
Jungkook wasn't sure how he got there—a dormitory of a university, which he found out upon asking a guy on his way out, who in turn gave him a puzzled look he just asked the most obvious thing in the world.
But a single sheet of paper with words written in an achingly familiar handwriting lay beside his bedside table. Jungkook wondered if the writer was the one behind his sudden miracle.
"Reality is cruel. But show the world that it can make exception."
Jungkook wasn't sure what that meant, although he had a hunch. He felt a nagging feeling at the back of his head and he suddenly wanted to go out to eat.
Eat! He thought amusedly, finding the idea ridiculous for when he was but a toy soldier, he never had to consume any food.
He made his way through the maze-like place of people—students—jostling around, in search for a place to eat. Even though he lived as an inanimate object all his life, Jungkook wasn't completely clueless on the ways of the human world, having watched too many movies and dramas with Jimin as he was growing up.
"Hi!" Jungkook said to a boy and he was surprised himself upon the sound of his voice. It was lower than he had expected it to be.
"Whatever" the boy said as he rushed past him, not even sparing him a glance.
It was wonderful.
Jungkook knew how to blend in and had a grasp of what to do and not to do like how you couldn't just stare at people too long or they would think you're weird. It was hard considering that all Jungkook ever did was stare at people from a shelf all his life.
"Are you sure you can't find him? Have you looked everyewhere? I swear he was just there!"
Jungkook stopped walking at the familiar sound of the voice, his heart picking up it's pace as recognition dawned on him. Before he knew it, he was stepping back and following the source of the sound.
He ended up rounding the corner of the building and found a boy sitting on a bench, phone clapped to his right here. Jungkook frowned as he watched him sigh heavily, massaging his forehead. He looked tired.
And upset, he thought. He knew him well enough to realize this.
"It's just that," Jimin sighed. "That was a very special toy mom. Grand puppy gave it to me, and I can't even believe I forgot it! I swore I had it on the list of things I was going to take with me."
Jungkook felt himself smile as he hid behind the wall, knowing what—or know who—exactly Jimin was talking about.
"Okay mom. Okay. Thank you" he huffed and hung up, his shoulders sagging as he laid back on the bench.
Jungkook should be happy that Jimin was upset for leaving him behind but seeing a frown on his beautiful doll face only made him upset too.
He should never be sad, he thought.
Jimin sighed again after before rummaging through his bag. And then paused, and Jungkook thought he might have felt him staring, a funny thought considering that he stared at him for how many years and it's not like he ever looked up to notice. But Jimin only turned towards his other side to rummage through a paper bag. The movement caused his other bag to fall, spilling his other things to the ground.
Jimin cursed lightly before crouching down to retrieve his stuff. Jungkook didn't think twice before lunging forward to help him.
They retrieve the things together and placed everything in Jimin's bag before he said a meek "Thanks".
He looked up as their eyes locked, it felt like the world stopped.
At least, Jungkook's world did.
It was an odd feeling—a pleasure one, to know that the person you had been looking at all your life was finally looking back at you.
Jimin finally saw him and Jungkook's heart swelled with delight that he almost cried from happiness.
"Thanks..." Jimin said again and Jungkook couldn't begin to function around at how beautiful his eyes looked up close.
A million thoughts ran through his, how now he had eyes that blinked for him to see every single dance move or every expression that yawned on Jimin's beautiful face, how now he had hands and arms that moved at his will for him to hold him when he was sad or lonely, how now he had lips for him to say all the beautiful thoughts and words he had been thinking and wanting to tell him for as long as he could remember.
Words of love amd adoration. Words only for his Jimin.
"Hi"Jimin said softly and Jungkook couldn't help but see the little boy whom he played tea parties with; where he played the brave soldier and Jimin the prince which he will protect from troubles. He remembered the times Jimin would answer the phone back in high school, screaming at his boyfriend on the other end and how Jungkook could only look at him from the shelf, seething and wanting to fight whoever was making Jimin upset.
"H-hello" Jungkook stuttered and he saw Jimin's gaze soften, his head tilted to the side as if wondering.
Jungkook felt nervous, thinking maybe he recognized him as the toy from his shelf.
Or worse...
He thought he was a total weirdo.
But then he smiled and Jungkook felt his brain turn into mush, his heart the only thing functioning as it thumped violently against his chest. He couldn't help but repeat to himself how Jimin was here and so was he, alive and real.
"Hi" Jimin said again with a shy smile, his eyes kind and sparkling.
Hello, he thought and it was almost pathetic how they were unable to form other words than that. Simply because they stared into each other's eyes and it seemed like a message was already passing between them.
Jungkook gazed into Jimin's eyes, the same eyes he had never gotten tired of looking at. He knew he couldn't say it yet, for he didn't want to freak him out but he thought them anyway, because it was true.
"Hello. I love you."