WHAT CAN'T BE

(SEOKJIN'S POV)

I've failed. Namjoon didn't tell me anything. As I watch him sleep, I scan carefully the whole room, the papers have to be here, somewhere.

I put my feet on the ground, closing my eyes tightly when the bed crunches. I turn my head around, he's still sleeping. It's not the best idea doing it while he's here, but I don't have any other choice. I want to know what he's hiding from me. I thought we told us everything. I know he wants to protect me, but I also know how to protect myself. I'm afraid of what he may be hiding from us, it must be important. If he really wants to protect me, he'll need to find another way. Otherwise, he'll get himself in trouble.

I stand up, decided to rummage through every corner of this room, but a hand on my arm stops me from taking the first step.

"Are we going to eat lunch already?" Namjoon says, with a husky voice.

I bit my lower lip. "Yeah. I was going to tell the others."

"You should wake me up first." He pulls my arm down and I fall on his chest. "Can we stay like this for a few minutes?"

I swallow. I almost got caught in the act. "Yeah, I don't think the others will mind."

He kisses my head and caresses my hair with his hands, humming a song I can't recognise. He looks at peace now, too different to what he would be looking right now if he had found me looking through his belongings.

(JIMINS' POV)

Today's lunch felt like the first decent meal I had in these past few days. I get out of the bathroom as I rub the towel in my hair. Oh god, it's cold. Namjoon told us he'll buy new heaters soon, but it will be spring by the time he gets them. At least we won't be hot in summer.

I'm not quite sure if we'll be here by then, though. Namjoon and Mr. Kim didn't tell us how long we're going to stay here. I don't know when I'm going to be able to see my parents. I don't know if they're alive, protected or in Red Men's hands.

I sit on the sofa, looking straight at the clock on the wall. The yellow background is becoming brown. I wonder how many years old is it and why is it still working. It has small black birds. I keep staring at them, even though I'm not able to see all the details from here.

Soft steps take me off my trance.

Taehyung.

He wears a black sweatshirt and his hair is messy, as if he just woke up from a nap. I pat the seat next to me. I can notice the hesitation in his face before he walks towards me and sits, but not as close as I want him to.

"Did you take a nap?"

He shakes his head. "Only lay down for a bit."

"Are you feeling okay?"

He looks at me with a fine line. I open slightly my mouth as I realise what I said. Of course he's not okay, he just found out I cheated on him, unintentionally.

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking." I scratch my hair. "Are you hungry?"

He shakes his head. "We already ate."

I sigh, biting my lower lip. "Taehyung. . . Did you actually forgive me? I know I messed up. But I love you and. . . I miss you."

"I need time." There's no emotions in his eyes, nor on his voice.

"I know. Take all the time you need, I'll be waiting for you. I'm going to go now, I don't want to bother you." I start walking towards the hallway, but my heart crushes when he doesn't try to stop me.

I thought he would like to spend some time with me, after all.

(HOSEOK'S POV)

"No, Yoongi don't you dare." I walk away from him, getting near a corner of his room.

"Why not? I think you'll look amazing with red hair. You already do." He gets closer.

"My hair is already red when I'm a fairy, I don't want to have it in my human form." I put my hand on my chin. "Wait, don't you like my brunette hair?"

Yoongi chuckles. "I'm just teasing you, Seokie." He sits on the end of the bed and I slowly sit beside him.

"But you look good in black hair. I like it."

He passes his hand through his hair. "I feel more men. Do you think Charles will like it?"

I frown. "Since when do you need others approval?"

"I don't need it," He shrugs. "But I like him and I would like to know what he thinks."

"Ask him."

I don't understand why I feel a slight pain in my chest. Yoongi is my best friend. I don't like him, I know I don't. I look at him, he has his phone close to his ear, biting the inside of his lower lip. His pale skin shines softly, his black hair covering his forehead. He plays with the inside of his sleeve with his right hand.

I can't hide a smile. Yoongi is perfection, but not only in the outside. He takes care of me and protects me if I need it. He has been there for me as well, all these years.

"Hoseok?" Yoongi claps his hands in front of my face.

"Huh? What happened? Did Charles answer?"

"I talked with him already, he says he can't wait to see my new look. What were you thinking about?"

"Me? Nothing important." I shake my head.

"So. . . You won't dye your hair red?"

I through him a pillow, laughing when it hit him right in the face.

"I get it, I get it." He chuckles, throwing me the pillow, but with less force.

I put it in my lap, resting my arms on it. I take a deep breath, I don't know if I should say this. But.

"How do you know you like Charles? Do you have feelings for him?" I tilt my head.

He blinks a few times and raises his eyebrows looking at me. "Well, um. . . I feel comfortable when I'm with him. I liked being in an intimate position with him. I've never-" He shakes his head.

"Are you talking about the day you. . . cuddled?"

He nods.

"What about all the times you had sex? It isn't intimate for you?" My stomach shift. I pray Yoongi isn't able to hear it.

"It's different. We didn't make love even once."

"Make love. . .?" I whisper. I've never experienced such thing. I've always wondered how it feels, to be loved and respected for someone you love.

"You can't make love to someone if you aren't in love with them. I've never fallen in love with anyone. I don't do this shit."

"Not even once?" I know Yoongi isn't the most romantic person, but he made out with lots of people.

His dark eyes stare at my soul. I open more my eyes, expecting he's going to answer sooner because of this. "Did you ever fell in love, Hoseok?"

I choke on my own saliva. I didn't expect him to answer with another question. I don't want to lie to him, but I don't have another option. I look at my hands, playing with them. Memories and memories playing in my head.

I shift when Yoongi place his hand on my shoulder. "Hoba, are you okay?" I get away from him, falling out of the bed. I grunt, getting up.

"Excuse me."

I storm out of the room, opening the next door. I get near the toilet before I throw up on the floor. I don't care if someone sees me. I can feel hot tears running down my cheeks, I hate the burn feeling in my throat.

I feel a hand caressing my back. I can tell is Yoongi the one besides me. When I feel there's nothing left in my stomach, I rest my back into the wall. I close my eyes, focussing on my breath. I hear Yoongi get closer to me, but I can't open my eyes yet.

"Let me help you." He grabs my hands and I force myself to do so.

I fill my mouth with water and I spit it out several times until I'm satisfied.

"Thank you." I say, looking at my feet.

"It's not the first time you throw up."

I look at him, blinking.

"At the school. That day in the cafeteria, you also ran away."

I remember. All conversations about sex make me want to throw up - I do it, literally -. It's not his fault, but I can't help it. I thought many times to ask for help, but I'm too scared and embarrassed to do so.

"Don't worry, I've a weak stomach."

He nods, but with a frown.

I know he doesn't believe me, but I can't tell him anything else.

(JIMIN'S POV)

I want to see Taehyung before going to sleep. I want him to be the last person I see tonight, and the first one tomorrow. I open slightly my door to see his door open as well. Full open, but I don't see him.

I tiptoe to his room and I poke my face. He's standing in front of the open window, the cold doesn't take long to arrive to my cheeks and nose.

He mumbles something I can't understand, until he raises his voice a bit.

"No one can rewrite the stars, how can you say you'll be mine? Everything keeps us apart and I'm not the one you were meant to find. It's not up to you, it's not up to me, when everyone tells us what we can be. How can we rewrite the stars? Say that the world can be ours. . . tonight."

I recognise this song, it sounded today at the restaurant.

But this song. It's my fault he's singing this song. It's my fault his heart is break. It's my fault he says he forgives me - but he doesn't, actually -. It's my fault he left me.

It's all my fault he's break.