"Angelina, can you carry this for me, please?" Her mom asked, referring to a relatively heavy bag of flour. 

Lina nodded and took the bag from her mom's arms, dismissing the overpowering sense of fatigue it sparked. They walked aimlessly through the aisles of the grocery store in a deafening silence nor Lina or her mom knew how to break. 

Lina's mom may appear to be overprotective and assertive at times, but all she desires is happiness for her daughter. It's difficult seeing somebody, especially a loved one, suffer and knowing you're practically helpless. 

"How did the session this morning go?" 

Lina simultaneously nodded and shrugged. "Okay." 

Lina had just been to her second session of therapy. She sat beside Subin again (who's hair is now a dark shade or purple) and they conversed a fair amount more than the previous week. Jimin was just the same; sad and spoke meaningful and artistically thought words which sounded like poems. The others were okay, too, and Lina had found herself beginning to actually grow fond of their little group. 

"Did you make any friends?" Her mom enquired further, desperately attempting to converse with her daughter who simply nodded in response. 

Lina's eyes wandered over the people inside the store. She saw a middle aged man, alone, slowly packing food into a basket and her mind began to think of how he may be feeling. He may be sad, and slowly dying inside and she would never know, like she was. 

Today was one of Lina's so called 'dark days', when she would feel physically unable to even speak. In the morning, she desperately begged her mom to let her stay in bed with tears in her eyes, dreading the mere thought of facing the outside world she had grown to despise. 

As her empty eyes travelled further through the course of that particular aisle, she stumbled upon a face which she undoubtedly recognised, the face belonging to Park Jimin. 

She was conflicted, and battled within her mind whether to just leave him or to say hello. Without a clear indication, she selected the latter. 

"I'll be back in a second, mom." She spoke quietly and disappeared with the flour remaining her hands. 

Jimin was standing by an aisle Lina didn't even know existed in the store, the art aisle. Pencils and paints of all colours sat in shelves row upon row, and Jimin ran his eyes over each and every possible material. 

With a severe degree of hesitance, Lina raised her arm and gently prodded Jimin on the shoulder with her hand. He didn't even seem phased as he slowly turned around, his slightly surprised eyes meeting Lina's. He wanted to smile at her but his brain told him otherwise, so a blank expression sufficed. 

"Hey," she smiled, glancing at the paint brushes in his hand. "What's up?" 

Lina mentally cursed at her choice of words but her welcoming (false) smile failed to falter. 

Jimin shrugged slightly. "Just shopping," 

"Never," Lina laughed sarcastically. "You were quiet today." 

To any passer-by, the two would have just appeared to be normal teenagers talking as friends, the unknown depths of their inner destructive feelings being invisible. They didn't look broken. In fact, they looked somewhat happy, well, Lina did. 

"Was I?" He asked rhetorically, selecting a can of auburn coloured paint from the shelf. "Oops," 

Jimin was never a fan of speaking. When the time of a speaking assessment in school arrived, he would muster up a false excuse of feeling ill to his mother, or if that didn't work, he would leave his house attired in his uniform, but head into the nearby woods instead and sit underneath a tree with a sketchpad in his hands. 

Lina, however, would often using talking as a technique of coping with her inability to handle certain situations. One time, she was sitting by a stranger in a compacted bus, when the minuscule capacity of the vehicle began to overpower her and she started conversing with the boy to keep herself distracted. She learnt his name was Taehyung and they remained friends ever since that day. 

"What do you like to draw?" Lina asked in pure curiosity, quickly adding the words, "or paint?" 

"Anything, really," Jimin responded in a hollow sounding voice. "Sometimes I draw the sky, sometimes I paint the cities I've never been to, or sometimes I draw people who I find particularly interesting." 

"I'd like to see one of your paintings one day." Lina said with sincerity evident in her tone.

He shook his head. "I don't show anybody my paintings." 

"Oh," Lina mumbled, feeling a pang of embarrassment trigger through her. 

"I don't show people my paintings," he continued and Lina looked up and into his eyes. "But I can show you my drawings, if you'd like."