Dream or reality, it's not important

         Each mark is unique in texture, size, and shape, often reflecting personality. Marks of fate show up right around your high school years, and the appearance of one is seen as a coming of age and is usually celebrated---usually.

         The exception to this is in the extremely rare case of two marks appearing together.

         Having a second mark is a bad omen indicating the worst of soulmate fortunes. There are four types of secondary marks.

The diamond: you and your soulmate are destined to part ways early in life.

The circle: you will suffer infertility or the loss of your children.

The triple star: one or both of you have multiple soulmates.

The cross: you and your soulmate will never meet in this life.

         You remember vividly the day you got your mark. It was your junior year of high school. You woke up and pulled off your pajamas and there it was---the silhouette of a heart dissolving into music notes, located on the left side of your chest. Right over your heart.

         You checked every microscopic inch of yourself over, looking for a second mark. To your relief, you found nothing.

         Throughout high school and into the first two years of college you searched diligently for your soulmate, dating around to build good relationship skills. However, by the time your third year rolls in, you are still unmatched and feeling a little discouraged.

         Last semester you were accepted into the dance program at Farsight University, one of the most prestigious schools in the country for the performing arts. You are thrilled to finally be pursuing your passion.

        Today your brother Namjoon found his soulmate and came over to share the good news.

        “Her name is Hana!” Namjoon hands you his phone, his eyes shining. On the screen is a woman with flowing black hair and deep black eyes. On her neck is a soft blue feather matching your brother’s. He holds her gently in the photo, an arm around her shoulder, his face practically glowing. You pull him into a hug, feeling ecstatic.

         “I’m so thrilled for you! How did you find her?” you say, looking excitedly up at him.

         “It was pure luck. I was shopping for some new shoes and she came into the store. I didn’t notice her mark until we got in line to check out. I got her number and now we’re going out this Saturday.” Namjoon smiles shyly, running his hand through his hair, cheeks flushed. “She’s really great, I already like her a lot.”

         “I’m really happy for you!” you say sincerely. But a small part of you is frustrated with your inability to find your match. Namjoon stays and talks for a while before heading home, leaving you to process it all.

          Your last roommate just got engaged to their soulmate. Your parents found each other when they were sixteen. A cousin who is close to your age has just announced their first baby. Now Namjoon has found his match.

          You head into your room and flop down on the bed, feeling dejected. Seeing Namjoon already so in love fills you with longing to meet your own soulmate. You want someone to look at you that way, with the deepest affection in their eyes. You are always wondering what your soulmate is like. Taller? Shorter? Can they speak the same language? What do they like to do in their free time?

          You’re carried away in your daydreaming when there comes a knock on your door, derailing your train of thought. Before you can even sit up your roommate Jungkook comes barging in, waving around a piece of paper.

         “Hey, I brought you this!” he says, plopping down on the bed beside you and dropping the paper on your face. You hold it up to read it.

         “Dance competition---The Diamond Nightclub. Compete against other dancers from around the city. Grand prize of a hundred dollars.” You notice the date at the bottom. “Hey, this says the sign up date was two weeks ago!”

          You smack Jungkook, feeling annoyed that he brought you a useless flyer. He shrugs.

          “I kind of forgot about it ok? I just found it underneath my keyboard. But I thought it might be fun to still go and watch since you’re a dance major and all.” He grins mischievously. “You’re also one hundred percent single, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to get out out there and dance with a few hot guys, and I can totally help you with that.” You roll your eyes.

          “In your dreams Kookie. Are you forgetting that you are even more single than I am? You’ve never even been on a date. I think you need to go.”

          Jungkook wrinkles his nose.

        “Hey, I don’t need anyone right now. Too much to do, you know?” he sniffs.

        “What, like playing video games until four in the morning?” you grin, sticking out your tongue. He responds by pushing you off the bed onto the floor. For a moment the two of you wrestle for the space, but with his ridiculous physique your attempts are useless

        “That’s my bed, let me up!” you grumble, shoving him as hard as you can.

        “Come to the dance-off with me!” he says, keeping you back easily with one hand.

        “Nooo you’re being annoying! Get out of my room!”

        “Say you’ll come with me and I’ll leave,” he smirks. You sigh, knowing you’re defeated. He was right anyway, you didn’t exactly have plans for tonight. All of your friends were off on dates with their soulmates.

        “Fine, I’ll go! But you’re paying the bus fee,” you insist, eyeing him. He laughs, hopping off the bed.

        “I knew you would give in! It starts at nine so be ready to go in two hours!” He struts out of the room, leaving the door wide open. You turn over on your bed, not feeling like getting up, and open your phone. Pulling up the search bar, you type “findyourmatch.com” and login to your account. The website keeps a record of soulmate marks, but so far it’s been completely useless and today there are still no results. You glance at the flyer, picking it up.

        Even if he was a brat, Jungkook was right. Getting out there and actually meeting people was the only way you could find your soulmate. Feeling a little more determined, you jump out of bed and start getting ready to leave.

        Two hours later you’re dressed in a white t-shirt tucked into skinny jeans with a pair of black converse to match, ready to take on the night. As promised, Jungkook pays for you both to take the bus. You arrive at the club after a short ride, starting to feel pumped up to watch the dancers. Jungkook pulls you inside and out onto the dance floor. The dimly lit building is packed, bodies jostling wildly about under the flashing lights. As you’re making your way through the crowd the DJ taps the mic for attention.

        “Ladies and gentleman, please clear the floor! Our dance-off is about to begin!” he calls. You manage to snag a spot right in front. Jungkook makes a fist.

        “This is going to be so cool!” he says, jumping on the spot.

         “Please give a round of applause for our freestyle dancers!” shouts the DJ. The crowd explodes with noise as the competitors strut onto the floor, a few of them striking cheeky poses for their audience. The DJ continues his spiel, spitting out the words almost as if he were rapping. “Out of the twenty people who signed up to dance, only five will make it past the first round and have a chance to really show off their skills! In this tight space the competition will be tough, so let’s cheer for them as they get on the beat!”

        The lights go dim except for in the arena. The dancers take position. A hush steals over the room. The DJ slowly eases up the volume, the base causing the floor to vibrate. Slowly the dance floor comes to life with people swaying on their feet. There’s not a lot of space, so they’re forced to get creative and keep their moves tight. The DJ watches carefully, inspecting each of them in turn. His judgement is swift and final---by the time the first song is finished, ten have already been eliminated.

         With the added space, the dancers are spreading out and getting elaborate, some doing complicated spins and others flipping head over heels in an effort to please. With a final wave of his hand, the DJ pushes the last five off the floor.

        “Now is where the fun really starts!” he cries out as the crowd goes nuts. You scream and jump with Jungkook, blown away by the dancers’ talent so far. You have no regrets about coming now. Three girls and two guys are left. They bow, relishing the attention.

        “Unlike round one, these dancers will be performing individually! The winner will be chosen by you, the audience. Our first contestant is number three! Please give it up for PARK JIMIN!” You peer over Jungkook’s shoulder at the black-haired man who heads for the center of the room. His sharp black eyes stare down the crowd, his well-muscled body a powerful presence.

        As the music starts he stands silently, poised on the edge of his toes. Suddenly he’s off, moving at such an intense speed it becomes hard to follow exactly which way he’s going. He spins, dives, rolls, flips---everything you’ve witnessed up until now is nothing compared to the grace and intensity of this man. He waves to the crowd as he shows off complicated footwork, diving toward the floor into a handstand where he continues the pattern. You clap to the beat, unable to take your eyes off of him, adrenaline rushing to your head as though you’re the one out there on the floor.

        Jimin is upright again, sweat pouring off his body, tank top clinging to his chest. He spins rapidly, corkscrewing up and down, finishing with a front flip and landing in a split, one arm high in the air. Everyone loses their minds over his spectacular performance, the volume deafening.

        Jimin smiles, chest heaving. He stands up, frame trembling, and attempts to wipe some of the sweat from his eyes. He yanks off his tank and dabs at his face, exposing his abs, at which the crowd breaks into a fresh round of applause. But there’s something else. It’s hard to make out in the dim light, but you think...it looks like…

         You lock eyes with Jungkook, astonished.

        “He’s got your matchmaker!” he hisses excitedly. You’re not really sure how to process this information. The room swoops underneath you and Jungkook grabs your arm to hold you steady.

         That beautiful, graceful, sexy, intense dancer is your soulmate.

         The next four performances are completely outside of your notice. Your eyes are glued to Jimin who rests casually on the sidelines. Never in your wildest dreams could you have come up with anyone more perfect. Over and over you rehearse scenarios in which you tell him that he is your match. You feel two feet tall, completely insignificant. My dance skills are nothing compared to his!

         To no one’s surprise, the crowd declares him the winner without a moment’s hesitation, leaving Jimin looking very pleased. He waves at the people, laughing, his eyes smiling until they’re practically closed. The DJ taps the mic again.

        “Congratulations to Park Jimin! Now we’re going to have a bit of a twist. One volunteer from the crowd will have a chance to compete against him for the title! Take five minutes to think it over, and the first person on the floor when I call out will compete against our champion!” The buzz of chatter fills the room.

         You look at Jungkook, still not thinking clearly. He laughs at your expression.

         “You should get out there and dance with him! It would be perfect!” he giggles, eyes glowing with mischief. You shake your head vigorously.

          “I wouldn’t even be able to start dancing! I would just melt into the floor!” you say resolutely. Jungkook grabs your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. The DJ comes back to the mic, the entire room on edge, ready to burst forward.

         “GO!” he screams. In one swift move Jungkook lifts you up and throws you onto the dance floor; you barely manage to stay on your feet, crouching low to the ground as you rock back and forth. Mortified, you stand swiftly up, coming face to face with none other than Park Jimin. He smiles at you politely.

         “Ready?” he asks. You nod, unable to speak, unable to comprehend anything aside from the pure terror coursing through your veins.

         “It’s ok, dancing is easy!” Jimin says encouragingly, striking a pose as the music starts. You take a deep breath, summoning every ounce of strength you have in you to keep it together. At first you’re uncertain, but watching him from up this close, you start to relax, your movements becoming more fluid and free-spirited. Nothing else could speak from your heart like moving to the music.

         Jimin faces you, taunting you with various poses and a front flip. You smirk back, eyes narrowing, and mimic his dancing, as if you were his reflection. The two of you circle around, playing off of each other. If he flips forward, you flip backward. If he dances toward you, you dance away. Back and forth you go, pushing and pulling, tied by an invisible string. Closer and closer you get until you’re nearly touching. He gives you the slightest nod, signalling the finale’s arrival. He moves to roll forward and in a burst of creativity you pull a front flip over him, landing in an identical pose by chance.

         The applause is like thunder in the room, Jungkook screams hysterically in the front of the crowd for you. You sneak a glance at Jimin, who is grinning back at you with the most adorable smile. The two of you stand up together, taking a bow in unison. He turns to face you, holding out his hand. You grab it, and in a surge of confidence, pull it behind you, yanking him forward so that your chests are touching. Reaching up with your free hand, you shyly pull down the rim of your shirt, revealing your mark. He gasps, pulling away from you sharply.

         “You...you’re…!” He can’t seem to function, his mouth just hangs open, his eyes huge. The DJ announces the results, but neither of you can hear him, you’re both too caught up in this moment. After a moment Jimin finds himself.

         “We need to talk. Can we go outside?” he says quickly. You nod, unsure of how to react, unable to read his expression. He starts to pull you toward the exit, and you make sure to catch Jungkook’s eye, who gives you a nod. He motions toward his phone for you to text him later.

          The night air is cool on your sweaty skin. Jimin looks at you for a moment, before reaching a hand out to touch your mark, trembling. He traces it gingerly with his fingers.

         “It’s really you,” he whispers. Suddenly he laughs, pulling you toward him.

         “Out there, when we were dancing...it’s like I knew all along,” he says softly. His skin is warm and damp against yours, and you lean into his embrace, feeling a little lightheaded.

          Just this morning you were jealous of Namjoon’s discovery, and now you had just happened upon your soulmate, who is better than you could ever imagine.

          For a long time the two of you talk softly, the moonlight reflecting off his chest as it moves in and out. His black hair curls out past his forehead, shadowing his eyes, which are softer and sweeter than you initially thought. He holds you close to him as if this was completely natural. As the night air grows colder, you start to shiver uncontrollably.

          If Jimin had had any clothes on that he could offer you, he would have---instead he holds you tightly and leads you back inside. Jungkook is nowhere in sight, you assume he has gone home. The DJ lights up when he spots you coming in, waving vigorously as he runs toward you.

       “That was a spectacular performance from you both! Are you a couple?”

        Jimin responds with a confident “yes” making you blush scarlet. The DJ hands you an envelope.

        “Since that’s the case, I’ll leave it up to you to split the money!” He leaves promptly, heading back to his table. You hold the envelope out to Jimin.

          “This is yours, I didn’t even sign up to compete.”

          He pushes the money away.

         “You keep it! I never expected to meet anyone like you tonight. That is enough for me.” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly looking exhausted. You too are starting to ache from the long night.

         “Can I give you a ride home?” he asks. You nod happily, taking his arm and leaning against him as the two of you make your way back outside.

          It’s around two in the morning when you finally open the door to your apartment. Jungkook is out cold on the couch, it’s likely he fell asleep waiting up for you. You toss a blanket over him and click out the lights.

         Despite your fatigue your mind is is wide awake, thoughts racing. You keep picturing his tan skin, the curve of his jaw and thick lips, the way his eyes become the tightest line when he smiles. You drift off to sleep, thoughts blending into dreams.

         Jimin drives home alone to an empty apartment. He unlocks the door, stumbling inside. He doesn’t even make it to his bed, he just crashes onto the couch in a heap, curling into a tight ball. He loves the pain in his body, the wariness of his muscles, it keeps him from thinking about anything else. Was there any point in agonizing over the future? He can’t change destiny. Still, he lies awake and pictures your face in his mind, smiling in spite of his worries. Maybe he’ll have regrets, but for the moment...it all feels so right. He falls asleep, meeting you in the dance of his dreams.

                                            Part Two: Racing Hearts

           You soon find out that Jimin is also a dance major at Farsight. He’s a year ahead of you, so you don’t have classes together, but he starts meeting up with you for lunch every day and coming over on the weekends. Your favorite moments are spent dancing together late into the night. It doesn’t matter what style, whether it’s the lively, sensuous dancing of hip hop or the close, graceful dancing of ballroom.

          Out on the floor, your hearts are beating as one. You start to forget what life was like without him.

          One night you’re moving to the slow count of a waltz, head on his shoulder, your marks brushing. He strokes your hair, leading you through the motions, rising and falling with you. One, two, three. One, two, three. Around the room you float until Jimin stops leading suddenly, just standing in the middle of the floor.

          You lift your head, looking up in confusion. He simply stares back at you with a soft expression, stroking your hair, one hand on your waist. He leans forward unexpectedly, kissing you slowly, hand still tangled in your hair. For a moment you both just rest in each other’s embrace. You breathe in his warm scent, running a hand along the skin of his back. He holds you a little tighter, more urgently.

         “I love you,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek.

          It was a moment you would remember for the rest of your life.

          The school year grows busier every day but Jimin still makes time to come and see you. Whether it’s helping you practice your choreography or taking you out for dinner, he’s always there to brighten your day. He buys you little gifts of flowers, of stuffed animals, different shirts with cute patterns on them. He video calls his family and introduces you proudly as his “beautiful, amazing, spectacular soulmate.” He showers you with love in every moment until you’re blissfully drowning in it.

          One day you come home from class to find him standing at your doorstep, waiting.

         “Ah, I was just about to text,” he says sheepishly. Something seems off. Normally he runs to hold you the moment he sees you, but today he shuffles his feet, looking pale. You stroke his cheek---it feels unnaturally hot.

        “Hey, what’s up?” you ask, concerned to see his normally cheerful face looking so haggard. Jimin shrugs half-heartedly.

        “I don’t feel very well,” he admits. A quick forehead check and you determine he has a scorching fever. Scolding him for wandering around like this, you pull him inside and settle him on the couch. He’s started to shiver as he curls up, uncomplaining, sweat beading on his neck.

         Worried, you run to your room and find a blanket, coming back and tucking it around him. You grab a rag and wet it with cold water, laying it on his forehead. Jimin insists it’s just a little cold, that he’s fine, but the moment you’re finished forcing him to take some fever reducers he passes out.

         You attempt to wake him after a few hours but he hardly stirs. He sleeps fitfully, his head cradled in your lap, hair slicked back with sweat. Jungkook comes out of his video-game zone to find you spiraling into a panic.

        “He won’t wake up!” you choke, looking up at Jungkook with frightened eyes. Immediately he comes over, giving Jimin a rough shake. Jimin cracks open glassy eyes.

       “Jimin, wake up!” you say loudly, feeling panicked. He stares at you sleepily, mumbling something before drifting away again, his head going limp against your knee. Jungkook looks alarmed, his face white.

       “I’m calling an ambulance right now,” he says, pulling out his phone and heading into his room. Seeing him act serious for once is enough to send you over the edge. You take a deep, shaky breath, trying hard not to cry as you cradle sleeping Jimin in your arms. You shove the blanket off of him and pull off his jacket, trying to cool him down. Jungkook comes back from his call.

       “They’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” he says, glancing at Jimin, eyes wide.

       “Let me change clothes, I’ll ride with you both,” he comes up behind you, giving you a brief hug around the shoulders and then heads into his room to change. The seconds tick slowly by. Your legs are asleep from holding Jimin in your lap for so long.

          You fidget with his hair anxiously, brushing it up, down, to the side. He still remains unconscious. You’re pushing it away from his neck when something catches your eye, just on his skin. You part the hair a little more and recoil in horror, your stomach heaving. On his scalp is a tiny mark, no larger than your fingernail.

          The mark of a black diamond.

          Jungkook returns to find you sobbing hysterically, your face in your hands. Despair seeps into your heart like a poison. Jungkook repeatedly asks you what’s happening, and all you can do is point to the mark in reply. He grabs your head and holds it steady while he parts your hair. It takes him a few minutes of searching, but you can feel his hands clench tightly before they drop to his sides. You look back at him and he gives a slight nod before he looks away. He puts his hands on your shoulders, unsure of what to say as you continue to weep.

         A few moments later there is a knock at the door. Jungkook rushes to let in the EMTs. They gently lift Jimin off of your lap and onto a stretcher. They hurry out to the ambulance, you and Jungkook follow close behind. The medical team runs some small tests on the way to the hospital, alarmed by the elevation of Jimin’s heart rate.

        Once you arrive, they sprint inside with the stretcher, instructing you to go and check in while they run diagnostics. Jungkook holds you back as you protest, but they’re no longer listening, intent on treating their patient.

        As the doors close behind the stretcher and Jimin is out of sight, a cold numbness steals over your body, your arms going limp in disbelief. You’re led away to the front desk, where Jungkook helps you to fill out the paperwork as best as you can. He sits with you in the waiting room, rubbing your back gently while he stares silently at the floor. You’re feeling completely empty, your mind devoid of thought. It’s almost two hours before a nurse comes up to you, tapping you on the shoulder.

        “Are you here for Park Jimin?” he asks. You nod, standing up stiffly. He flips open his clipboard and reads over it for a moment before delivering the news.

        “I’m going to give you as honest a prognosis as I possibly can. He has bacterial meningitis which has caused intense swelling around his spinal cord and brain. We’ve managed to relieve some of the pressure and have started him on a round of intense antibiotics. However, with the extent of the illness, his chance of waking up again is fifty-fifty.” The nurse shows no emotion. It’s as if he’s spoken to you through the noise of a hurricane, you can hardly hear him. You stare blankly as Jungkook nods in understanding.

        “Can I see him?” you ask, barely managing to form the words. The nurse gives an affirmative and leads you through the hallways. The reek of antiseptic and the glaring lights overhead are making you feel dizzy. The world spins underneath you, and you’re briefly grateful that Jungkook is keeping a steady arm around you.

         Upon spotting Jimin through the window of the door, you rush to kneel at his side. He looks peaceful lying on the bed, hooked up to oxygen. His pulse beeps softly on the monitor nearby, a little faster than it should be. You reach out and brush the hair out of his face with a tender hand, your heart sinking low into your stomach.

         Had you known about the mark, would you have told him? Would you have avoided contacting him at all? You run a finger lightly over the soft curve of his cheek, tracing the edge of his lips, trying to remember what they felt like against yours.

         Was all of this worth it?

         A doctor tells you that if he is to recover he will show signs of improvement in the next twenty-fours hours. He gives you permission to stay the night. Jungkook pushes the couch next to Jimin’s bed and settles you in with a blanket he finds somewhere. He makes himself a bed on the floor.

       “Wake me up if anything happens,” he says warily. Within moments he is asleep, his gentle snoring rising from under the cover. You take Jimin’s hand as you lay next to him, listening to his labored breathing. You hesitate to fall asleep for fear of something happening while you slumber. Three o’clock in the morning comes and goes and you still lie awake, tossing and turning on the couch. It feels like cement underneath you. It’s around five when you finally doze off, your hand still clutching Jimin’s tightly.

        Jungkook rouses you late in the morning.

      “His breathing is better, and there’s less swelling,” he reports as you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your burning eyes. He hands you some breakfast from the cafeteria, a rather tasteless bowl of oatmeal. You swallow it anyway, your stomach growling for more.

      “Hey, I’m going to go home and pack a few things for you quickly and come back, okay?” He hugs you tightly, patting your back. You can feel your eyes watering again, and you brush away the tears quickly.

       “I don’t know what I would do without you,” you say. He gives a small smile before heading out the door, leaving you alone. You sit down on the couch, resting your head on Jimin’s bed, looking up at him. The low cut of his hospital gown exposes his mark, and you trace it, feeling deeply lonely. You take up his hand again.

       To your astonishment, Jimin squeezes your hand weakly. You look up quickly to see his black eyes trained on you. A strange expression comes over him, and he opens his mouth as if to speak, but he closes it again and remains silent. You recognize the remorse etched in the tired lines of his face. A disturbing thought comes to you.

       “You...you knew about the mark, didn’t you?”

        He nods ever so slightly, his heart rate beeping a little faster. You take a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

       “Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, pain slicing through your chest. He speaks softly and with intense effort.

       “I was...being selfish. I thought you might leave me. Will you leave me now then?” he asks, looking resolved His eyes are sad.

        You clasp his hand tightly, bringing it up to your lips and planting a kiss.

       “Never. I just wish you had told me so that we could have spent every spare moment together,”

        Tears flood Jimin’s eyes, running down his cheeks. He smiles lovingly over at you, lifting his hand up to your face with intense effort. His eyelids are drooping again but he is fighting sleep. You run your hand over his temple.

        “Just rest,” you whisper. “I’ll be watching over you,” His eyes are already closed, his head leaning toward his shoulder.

        “I love you,” he says, his voice fading as he drifts aways. You lean right up to his ear.

        “I love you too,”

        Jungkook returns an hour later with some clothes in a bag for you and some real food. Throughout the day Jimin’s condition steadily improves, but you do not let your hope rise. Inside you’ve made peace with whatever might happen.

         However, by the next day Jimin is completely awake and talking, albeit a little hazily. After three days his mind is starting to clear and he’s able to have lengthy, normal conversations. The doctor declares him on the mend.

         Overwhelming joy seizes your heart, and you allow yourself the smallest amount of hope. Whenever his time will be, it doesn’t seem like it will be now. The dark cloud of the mark hangs over you, casting a shadow on every happy moment you find, but you do your best to push it away. Jimin seems relieved that you aren’t dwelling on it too much. However he is growing increasingly frustrated with the constant bedrest.

         “I want to dance with you so badly,” he confesses. “If I could stand properly, I’d like to dance with you right now in this room,” You smile fondly at him, wishing you could make his words a reality.

         You lay your head on his chest, feeling the shape of his body next to yours. It felt like an eternity since the two of you had stood on the dance floor and let your spirits soar in harmony.

        “Listen,” he says suddenly, his demeanor shifting. “I...I don’t want to waste any more time. We can’t deny it, we’ve both got the diamond mark. Our time together is limited in one way or another. I want to spend every second of the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

        Your cheeks blush scarlet, and without any hesitation you nod, stopping yourself before you lean in to kiss him for fear of contracting his illness. His eyes are completely hidden in his beaming smile, and he pulls you back into his arms, kissing the top of your head lightly. No words are needed as you lay there, feeling your hearts beat as one in this moment. The sunlight streams into the room from the window, bathing the two of you in warmth.

         Immediate plans for the wedding begin later that day. Namjoon takes you shopping for a dress and rings, even tagging along as you pick out flowers and a wedding cake. The moment Jimin is released from the hospital will be the wedding date. A simple ceremony will be held at a church not too far away, with the reception at a beautiful park. Though Jimin is forced to spend much of his time resting, he helps make decisions as much as he can and makes all of the necessary phone calls to your families.

         At last the anticipated day comes when Jimin is healthy enough to be released from the hospital. He helps you into your wedding dress, tenderly brushing your hair and weaving in little white flowers. You knot his tie for him in the fanciest knot you can muster, brushing the dust off of his midnight-blue tuxedo and smoothing his glossy black hair. His face glows at the sight of you, and he spends every moment drinking in your presence.

         Namjoon calls you and confirms that you’re about to leave.

        “Hana has everything decorated beautifully, you’ll love it,” he promises. His voice grows thick with emotion. “I can’t believe my little sister is getting married,” he says, you can hear rustling as he brushes tears out of his eyes. “Mom and Dad are here, Jimin’s parents and his brother are here. Your roommate is here. All we need now is the bride and groom, so hurry up!” he teases.

          You laugh and tell him you love him before you hang up. Jimin offers you his arm and you cling to him happily as he leads you out to the car. He opens the door for you and helps you climb inside and tuck your dress in. He smooths your hair one last time before he walks around and settles in the driver’s seat.

          The two of you make your way to the church. You chat excitedly, your stomach full of the liveliest of butterflies, you can hardly sit still. Jimin turns to look over at you at every stop, unable to stop smiling.

         “Quit that, you’re going to burn a hole in my face!” you giggle, leaning over to kiss him.

          The light changes, and Jimin carefully starts to pull through.

          The screech of tires slices through the air, echoing in your head. Time seems to slow down as you turn toward the sound. Jimin is turning the wheel away from the car skidding toward you at lightning speed, but in this position it will strike the driver’s side head on. In a flash you wrench the wheel in the opposite direction, locking eyes with Jimin seconds before the oncoming car collides with the passenger side.

          Jimin’s horrified expression remains etched in your mind as the car rolls over and over, finally crashing into a light post and slamming back upright. Jimin coughs weakly, winded from the impact. Dark bruises are starting to pool around his eyes, his nose bleeding heavily, but otherwise he seems unharmed, protected by the airbag.

         You’re finding it increasingly hard to breathe. Jimin shakes his head in confusion, looking around with wide eyes, until they come to rest on you. In a flash he is fumbling shakily with the seatbelts, managing to get both of them loose. He stumbles out of the car and comes around, yanking open your door with all of his strength. He lifts you gingerly out of the seat and cradles you in his lap. The other driver is getting out of the car now, staggering.

        “Call 911!” Jimin screams frantically, his voice cracking. You can feel the blood trickling from the corners of your mouth and the scarlet stains flowering on your wedding dress. In a haze you look up at Jimin, reaching up to caress his cheek.

        “You’re going to be fine!” he insists, pressing your hand to his lips. “You’re going to be fine, I love you! You’re going to be fine…” he repeats this over and over, his voice growing quieter until it’s barely above a whisper. You smile lovingly up at him, unable to feel anything in your body.

        “I love you,” you say, but you’re not sure he can hear you, your voice is fading fast, you can’t find the strength to breathe. Darkness is eating at the corners of your vision. You reach your hand out and touch the space over Jimin’s heart where his soulmate mark resides. The last thing you see is the light as it leaves his eyes.

         In the streets, crouched among the shattered glass is a man cradling a woman. He’s held her for a long time, even after the paramedics came and tried to carry her away. He strokes her beautiful hair with the white flowers he helped put in, whispering words of the deepest love. He places a ring on her finger that he was carrying in his pocket, and slips one onto his own hand. He pulls her closer toward his chest, her cheek right against his heart. In the wreckage of the broken car, a phone call rings in from the waiting party, no doubt wondering about the delay. He ignores it, still holding the woman tenderly in his arms. If he closes his eyes, he swears he can still feel her warmth.

       What he wouldn’t have given to dance with you one last time.

                                            Part Three: Jimin Alone

        Under a night sky devoid of stars he stands peering into the darkness. His soul strains at the atmosphere, probing the universe. Are you there? He feels nothing but the aching loneliness answering back. He tries to remember how he danced the night he met you. His movements are stiff, unfeeling, without life, but something inside forces him to keep trying. He tries to leap forward into a roll but he stumbles, scraping his hands against the rocky ground and skinning his knees. The cuts sting painfully, but he tries again. Over and over he tries to jump and roll until his knees and hands are stained with blood. Panting, he falls to the earth in defeat, hot tears scorching his cheeks. He twists the ring roughly on his left finger. The empty sky seems to mock him, and he shrinks away from it, curling up on his side.

            He runs back inside, pressing his face to the window toward the beach. In the distance, he spots you walking quickly along the sand toward the misty figure of a man dressed in white. His stomach lurches, breath coming in short gasps. I’ll never reach her in time. Despair clutches at his heart like a bird of prey, but he resists. His mind races wildly, and in a moment of desperation he sees your notebook laying open on the nightstand. Snatching it up, he flies out the door, hoping, praying that he isn’t too late.

          The night air shocks his body as he runs straight into it. His lungs are burning as he struggles for air but he doesn’t stop the desperate race. He can see you walking ahead of him; you’ve nearly reached V who stands waiting, arms outstretched in anticipation. here’s no time left to think—it’s now or never. Taehyung flips open the notebook and starts to sing.

          His voice is shaking at first; he’s winded, but he presses on. His voice warms up quickly, as though his body senses his urgency. He sings the words of your beautiful song, reaching out to you with his soul. Can you hear me? I’m right here. Don’t go!

          V locks eyes with Taehyung, his voice growing sweeter, more hypnotic. You’ve stopped now, your head looking back and forth, confusion swaying your frame. Taehyung moves forward slowly now, inching toward you, not taking his eyes of off V. Relief eases the tension in his body as he makes his way toward you.

          But V starts a new chorus. His chest reflects the moonlight, rising and falling like the waves of the sea. More beautiful, more terrible, more bewitching, his song rises like a tidal wave over you, crushing your will and drawing you in. You start to take hesitant steps toward V, your body quivering. Taehyung breaks into a run, his heart pounding in his chest. You’ve reached V now, who pulls you hastily into his embrace, coiling around you like a snake.

          He looks you up and down, licking his lips, his song never ending, weaving the spell around you. You’re leaning toward him now, your eyes wide, moonlight reflecting on them, obscuring them from Taehyung’s view.

          He watches numbly as you give yourself over to V.

          Still running. Uncomprehending as you wilt in V’s arms.

          He kneels down beside you, trying to cling to some vague thoughts, but the scene shimmers before him like a dream. He holds you close, trying to speak, but his tongue has stopped working. Your heart beats faintly, Taehyung can hear it. He can still hear it. He’s dimly aware as you press some papers into his hand but he doesn’t break his attention from your heartbeat. If he doesn’t stop listening…maybe…maybe…

         It’s been gone for a long time now.

         Taehyung weeps in agony, holding you close, his cheek against your chest. Every cell inside of him is burning with grief, every inch of his skin trembling with pain. A few moments go by and his voice gives out. He cries silently, soaking your shirt, gripping you tightly, as if your body might be taken away also. Something breaks through his mourning, shattering his brief illusion of solitude. V laughs in the darkness, his eyes shining victoriously, his teeth bared in a wicked smile. He looks down at your lifeless body as though inspecting an offering.

         Cold, unbridled anger rises up in Taehyung, his teeth clenching so tightly that his jaw aches. In that moment he is completely empty except for this dreadful rage flooding his veins. Trembling, his fingers search desperately in the sand until they find their target. He grips the sharp stone in his fist, the flesh on his hands tearing easily against the jagged edges. He stares at V, his eyes black even in the bright light of the moon. V is still laughing harshly.

         He wants to silence that laughter more than anything.

         Unhesitantly he puts the rock to his throat, his hand forcing it to slice through, his skin unresisting.

         He watches without flinching as V chokes, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. V puts his hands to his throat, looking over at Taehyung in bewilderment. White hot pain is spreading in his limbs, his chest, his hands, but Taehyung stays standing, looking on as V slumps to the ground, struggling to breathe. He lifts V with arms trembling under the intense strain and drags him into the sea, away from you, away from this beautiful, shining place to be caught up by the crushing depths of the dark water. He doesn’t even look back to see V go under.

         There’s not enough time left to do so.

         He stumbles to his knees, blood pouring from his throat, splashing hot against his hands. Still he picks up your letters and your notebook with his last ounce of strength, tucking them in his pocket, hoping that someone finds them. You look so tiny lying in the sand. Where are you?

         Taehyung reaches out blearily in his mind, struggling to form coherent thoughts. He lies down beside you, wrapping himself tightly around you, protecting you from the elements. He presses his cheek to yours, trying to feel the warmth of your skin, but he’s fading quickly now. Fear flutters in the distant corners of his mind, but he pushes it away, trying to hold on to the sensation of your cheek against his.

         Wherever he’s going, he’s hopes that it’s with you.

          The angel from your dreams waits at the edge of the beach, dressed completely in white, bare-chested, his blonde hair shimmering in the moonlight. His eyes call to you, his lips sound your name in the woven fabric of the melody. ‘Closer, closer’ he sings without words, body swaying to the music. The waves form a perfect harmony, pushing and pulling you towards the angel.

         It’s faint at first, but another song pierces the night. It grows in richness the longer it goes on, rising above the wind and the waves and the song that’s calling you onward. You turn back to see a dark figure in the distance.

         It’s Taehyung.

        He’s holding your notebook and singing your words.

        “The wind whispers softly my destiny. I see no horizon, only endless sky. Follow me, follow me. I’m going where my heart takes me. I fear nothing, no harm can come when we walk together. Close your eyes, close your eyes, I will always be here for you. Beside you. My love washing over you. Together we seize the future, never waiting for the sun to rise…”

        You pause, something stirring in your heart. You can’t remember his name, but you think you love the man with the dark hair. His voice is familiar, it washes over you, warming you from your head to your toes.

        You gasp, the night air cutting sharply into your lungs. V stops singing abruptly, his eyes narrowed. You run to Taehyung, sliding dangerously in the sand before you crash into him. He grips you tightly, his frame trembling with relief. You both turn to look at V, who is moving ominously toward you, his stride radiating power. You shrink against Taehyung, unable to look away as V comes within a few steps, his eyes deceptively gentle. His lips part to reveal a smile.

         “Don’t be afraid, love. I’m here to save you,” he says softly. You don’t move but you can feel his voice traveling through your head, winding its way around your core like a snake. You’re finding it hard to breathe now, you wish you could shut your eyes, wish you could find your balance. Taehyung’s steady voice breaks through the spell.

         “All this time I thought you were living off the lifeforce of others. But I realized something when I saw you fight so hard to take my love away. You’re not feeding off of them, you’re feeding off of my misery!” His voice grows louder with every word until he’s shouting, his voice burning with hatred.

         “I thought you were a part of me, I thought I had created you! But you are nothing more than the lowliest parasite to ever drag on this earth!” he screams. V’s eyes blacken, and his bewitching features contort with rage. But Taehyung isn’t finished yet.

         “If you think you will ever get one ounce of energy from me again, you’re wrong! You don’t own me! You are nothing! You wouldn’t exist without me!”

         With every word V sinks lower to the ground, screaming with pain. He writhes in the sand, his skin almost translucent, his veins burning. Taehyung goes quiet, pausing a moment.

         “She is mine. From the moment we met, I knew she was mine. And she promised to always be a part of me. And where our love is, there is no room for you.” He pulls you towards him and presses his lips to yours. His love is like wildfire, spreading through your veins and setting your heart alight.

         V screams, one last terrible scream, and falls into the sand, his eyes rolling back. He twitches, his body dissolving like dust in the wind, until there’s nothing left but a black stain where he lay. You both stand there, reeling in shock.

         Taehyung is the first to move, taking you by the hand and pulling you swiftly away. Neither of you look back.

         The rising tide washes over the black sand, taking it to the depths of the sea.

         You find a spot far away along the shore and simply stand together, gazing out at the midnight horizon. Taehyung looks down at you lovingly and kneels in the sand, his hands holding yours tenderly. For a moment he stays like this, tears flowing freely, glistening in the starlight.

         Both of you laugh suddenly, the realization crashing into you with full force.

        You’re free.

        Taehyung pulls something out of his pocket and you see it’s a simple gold ring. He holds it out to you.

“When you said you wanted to achieve my dream with me, I couldn’t even imagine it. But now I can see the future stretching endlessly beyond me, where before I could never even think about tomorrow. I want you with me always. I want to plant our dreams and make them grow like the most beautiful garden I’ve ever imagined. I want to be every reason that you smile.

Will you let me be yours forever?”

                                         Epilogue: (True Ending)

           The angel from your dreams waits at the edge of the beach, dressed completely in white,bare-chested, his blonde hair shimmering in the moonlight. His eyes call to you, his lips sound your name in the woven fabric of the melody. ‘Closer, closer,’ he sings without words, body swaying to the music. The waves form a perfect harmony, pushing and pulling you towards the angel.

           It’s faint at first, but another song pierces the night. It grows in richness the longer it goes on, rising above the wind and the waves and the song that’s calling you onward. You turn back to see a dark figure in the distance.

          It’s Taehyung.

         He’s holding your notebook and singing your words.

         “The wind whispers softly my destiny. I see no horizon, only endless sky. Follow me, follow me. I’m going where my heart takes me. I fear nothing, no harm can come when we walk together. Close your eyes, close your eyes, I will always be here for you. Beside you. My love washing over you. Together we seize the future, never waiting for the sun to rise…”

         You pause, something stirring in your heart.

         The two voices weave around each other like two daggers in the night. You stand trembling between them, the earth beneath you spinning as the voices battle inside of you. The two men step forward, blue and brown eyes locked. You shake your head slowly, feeling like you’re underwater, drowning beneath the sea of the songs. But the voice of the angel begins to rise over the other, notes laced with power. Something like curiosity rises up inside you. What is he saying?

         You take a step toward him, and Taehyung’s voice cracks. He breaks into a run as you step falteringly toward V, who holds a slender hand out to you, beckoning you forward. He leads you into his arms, his fingers brushing your cheek. His eyes are soft, like pieces of the sky. You lean toward him, your bodies fitting together perfectly, like they were made to brush this way. Taehyung shouts but you cannot hear him.

         You press your lips to V’s, shutting your eyes and breathing in his dizzying scent.

         A numbness starts to creep over you, spreading from your stomach out to your fingertips. You realize you’re falling, but it’s as though you’re not you anymore, that someone else is inside of you. V laughs, his voice like ice splintering in the air.

        Taehyung reaches you just before you hit the ground, your book still gripped tightly in his hand. He drops it beside of you as he takes you in his arms. You’re fighting, fighting to stay inside of yourself, fighting to keep from floating away. You find some strength left to grip the book, pulling the letters from behind the covers and pressing them into Taehyung’s hand. You don’t have any breath left to tell him what they’re for, but you hope… you hope... your hand falls limp, there’s not…

        Taehyung weeps bitterly, clutching your lifeless form. V stands close by, relishing the scene, his laughter soaring through the air, the sound cutting Taehyung deep to the core.  He sobs for what feels like hours, his body numb. It’s a while before he grows quiet, his tears still falling softly into your hair.

        He lays you down gently in the sand, fingers searching the ground purposefully. He finds a jagged rock in the sand, gripping it so tightly in his fist that it cuts through his fingers. V is looking down at you triumphantly, unaware as Taehyung puts a hand to his throat.

        In one swift motion he slices through, cutting V’s laughter off in a strangled cry.

        Taehyung feels nothing as he watches V sink to his knees, blood pouring from the wound in his throat. Taehyung stands, rising over him, watching coldly as the white clothes are stained red in the night. V looks up at him, his eyes white with fear. He gasps pathetically for air, but Taehyung feels nothing. Even as he senses his own shirt sticking to his chest, he drags V away from you, letting the body be caught up by the sea.

        With his final ounce of strength he picks up your notebook and your letters, tucking them into his pocket. His hand is shaking violently now, every motion is a conscious, painful effort. He lays down beside you, pressing his head against your still-warm cheek.

           I could die tomorrow, you think. Something about accepting this helps clear your mind. You turn towards Taehyung, lifting his chin with you hands. He’s crying softly again, unable to look at you.

           “Hey, listen to me. I trust you more than anyone else. I don’t know what we’re going to do or how we’re going to do it, but we’re going to separate you and V and get rid of him for good,” you say firmly. “He doesn’t own me and he doesn’t own you. Call into work and tell them you’ve got pneumonia or something. Take the next week off. We’re getting out of here, you, and me, and we’re going someplace we can breathe, okay? If I’m going to die”—your voice wavers, and you sit up more determinedly—“I’m going to die where I want, with the person I love most in the world. But like heck am I going down without a fight!” You raise your voice, hoping deep inside that V can hear you. Taehyung looks up at you with bloodshot eyes. He pulls you into his arms, squeezing you so tightly it almost hurts.

          “Don’t you dare say that you’re going to die. Don’t you dare. I’m not going to let him take you.” His voice has a sharp edge now, something inside of him awakening.

           “Who says you have any choice in the matter?”

           You both whirl around to see V standing there casually, his hands in his pockets, a smirk on his lips. Taehyung stands up, shoving you behind him. It’s getting harder for you to think clearly in the intoxicating presence of V. You make a move to stand up, but Taehyung puts a hand on your chest, holding you back.

          “Don’t you touch her!” he snarls. V laughs, his eyes flashing.

          “What makes you think you can stop me?”

          Something snaps in Taehyung as he stands between you and V. He lunges at V, punching him in the jaw at full force. V falls to the ground and Taehyung is on top of him instantly. You stay frozen to the couch, straining your eyes in the dim lighting to see what’s happening. Over and over they roll, fighting to stay on top of the other. Taehyung lands another blow on V’s face, getting kneed in the stomach in return. Back and forth the punches roll, the two of them crashing into the end table and shattering the glass top. At last Taehyung finds the high ground, pinning V down by the throat with his knee. His lip is bleeding profusely, dripping down onto V’s face. V is smiling, his eyes wild. He laughs insanely.

          “You and I both know there’s only one way out for me,” he hisses with what little air he has left. Taehyung narrows his eyes, putting his weight down harder. You don’t understand why, but he too is struggling to breathe. You can see them more clearly from this angle, and you take a sharp breath.

          V and Taehyung have identical injuries. A split lip in the same place, a gash above the same eye. V’s eyes are starting to roll back into his head, and Taehyung is looking dizzy. You leap off the couch and grab Taehyung’s arm, pulling him off of V with all of your strength. They both gasp in the same moment Taehyung’s knee is lifted off of V’s throat. The two of them lay on their sides, struggling for air like fish out of water. V is the first to recover. He sits up, blood trickling down his face, his eyes like flint.

           “She has more sense than you,” he snarls, tilting his head. “And with a little more time, she’ll be mine too.” V stands over Taehyung and looks down on him, wiping the blood from his lip. He laughs again, kicking Taehyung in the stomach, who crumples completely to the ground.

           “Worth it,” V says, wincing as he clutches his waist. He turns around, slamming the door on his way out.

            You drop to your knees, shaking with relief, and crawl over to inspect Taehyung. He looks utterly defeated, his eyes staring blankly, his breathing shallow. You help him sit up. He’s more damaged than you initially thought. His shirt is completely destroyed, torn apart and soaked with blood. He must have rolled onto the glass; his back is covered in deep lacerations. You peel off his ruined shirt and use it to soak up the blood. Taehyung stares back at you, his eyes completely lifeless. Deep bruises are starting to darken around his neck where his knee had been. You don’t even know where to start.

            “Come on, let’s get you in the bath,” you say firmly, helping Taehyung to stand. He lets you lead him to the bathroom without complaint, standing without protest while you strip him to his underwear. Sweat pours off his body, his caramel skin glistening in the light. You try not to think too much as you run the water and help settle him into the tub. He doesn’t look at you, he simply stares straight ahead, as if his spirit is broken. He doesn’t even flinch when you gently pour water over his wounds, even though you know it must be horribly painful. The water is scarlet underneath him, there’s so much blood, and more is still trickling out of the deep cuts on his back.

            Gathering your courage, you ask him to stay there and run to his room. You rummage urgently through his drawers, finding a soft cotton t-shirt. You head back to the bathroom, opening and closing things until you find some basic medical supplies.

           You help Taehyung out of the tub and drain the red water, leaving the once white basin stained crimson. Taehyung’s back is still bleeding, but you’re relieved to find that the cuts aren’t as deep as you initially thought. After slathering on some antiseptic, you tear the shirt into long strips and fold them up, taping them down with a generous amount of bandage tape.

           You scoot around to the front of Taehyung. His eyes are shut tight. Luckily his lip and the cut over his eye have stopped bleeding, so you dab on a bit of ointment and turn your attention to the ugly bruises on his neck.

           “I’ll grab you some ice, we should try and get the swelling down,” You’re not even sure he can hear you. As you go to stand up, Taehyung grabs your arm.

          “I would have died for you, without hesitation,” he says. “If we meet V again, don’t try to stop me.” He looks at you, his eyes dark. You resist the urge to slap him. Instead you lean forward, kissing him with such force it takes him by surprise. His hand finds its way to your back, and he pulls you closer almost without thinking. You break apart, your hand automatically finding his cheek, you look deep into his eyes.

          “You and I belong together. If you think I could live even one second on this earth without you, you’re an idiot,” you say firmly. Against all odds, Taehyung laughs, tears streaming down his face. He presses his forehead against yours.

           “I don’t deserve you,” he coughs, smiling through his tears. “Maybe we don’t have a lot of time left, but I wouldn’t spend it with anyone else.”

           He gasps suddenly, doubling over. You guess that the pain has started to kick in. You leave him with the promise that you’ll be back quickly. Hurriedly you search through his drawers again and find him some clean underwear and pants, letting him change while you run to the kitchen for some ice. You dump some hurriedly into a plastic bag and wrap a towel around it. You hear a whimpering behind you, and you see Yeontan bellying toward you, his ears flat against his head. He must have been hiding in the kitchen all this time. He follows right on your heels, tail tucked between his legs.

          You find Taehyung laying limply on his bed, staring off into the distance again. You scoop up Yeontan and plop him down on the blanket. He runs gleefully up to Taehyung, who reaches out automatically to hold him close, stroking the little ball of fluff who kisses his hands in a flurry of fur and slobber. You place the ice gingerly on his throat. He flinches, but leaves it in place. You quickly wash your face and change in the bathroom, afterwards crawling into bed with Taehyung.

          “Tomorrow morning, you’re calling into work, and we’re going on a trip,” you say. “Somewhere nice. Hoseok can look after Yeontan for a while.” He nods, not having the energy to argue. For a long time after he simply looks at you lovingly, stroking your hair.

           You can’t help but look at him too. The hard line of his jaw, the soft fold of his lips, the dark pools of his eyes, the wisps of his brown hair brushing his lashes. For the first time you’re able to see the strong muscles on his chest, the curve of his collarbones against his broad shoulders, the deep V-shape below his stomach. You trace the lines of his skin, catching yourself halfway, cheeks flushing. You turn to move away but he stops you, pulling you tight against his bare chest. His strong arms wrap around you, and you rise and fall with his steady breathing.

           You lay like this for a long time, forcing yourself to stay awake even though you’re exhausted. Eventually you feel Taehyung’s body relax against you, and you glance over to make sure he’s asleep. You remove the ice pack from his throat to prevent him from getting too cold and ease yourself out of his arms, brushing the hair out of his face. Yeontan wags his tail sleepily, tucking his nose under his paws. Getting out of bed, you head over to the desk, searching for some paper and a pen to write with.

         Late into the night you sit at the desk penning three long letters. One to your family, one to Hobi, and one to Taehyung. A weight is lifted off of your chest. It feels good to have all your thoughts out on paper. Folding them up, you tuck them away carefully in your bag. You crawl back into Taehyung’s arms, snuggling down under the blankets, resting against his chest. He doesn’t wake up but he curls up around you, resting his chin on your head. It isn’t long before sleep takes you.

         Watery sunlight streams in through the bedroom, waking you gently in the morning. The rush of a cool breeze wafts outside the window, soothing and peaceful. For a moment, you lie cocooned in Taehyung’s embrace, not thinking about anything in particular. His breath is warm against your neck.

         You know when he wakes up, this illusion of safety will be broken.

         It doesn’t take long for Taehyung to stir, blinking sleepily in the hazy morning. He takes you by surprise and kisses you the moment your eyes meet. Warmth flowers in your chest. You sit up, feeling restless, though you’re not sure why. You inspect his scratches thoroughly, happy to find that they’ve dried up cleanly overnight. The swelling has gone down on his throat as well. He sits up painstakingly, his teeth clenched together as he stretches. He refuses to take your arm as he heaves himself out of bed, wobbling slightly. He shakes his head a little and stands up straight, exhaling.

          The two of you dress quickly and eat a simple breakfast, packing some food and clothes in a bag afterward. Taehyung calls into work and you phone Hoseok, asking him to watch over Yeontan. Hobi doesn’t even ask any questions when you drive over to drop him off, he just grips you in a tight hug, wishing you to have fun on your trip. Next it’s off to your apartment to pack some clothes and change. You find your notebook and tuck it away in your bag, pushing the letters inside it, glad Taehyung doesn’t notice. Everything is loaded into the car, and the two of you settle in.

            Despite his sore back, Taehyung insists on driving. You peruse the map while he looks over your shoulder, both knowing instantly where you want to go.

            Late into the day the drive goes, the two of you talking in the car as if everything is completely normal, as if this trip is simply a happy vacation. Taehyung smiles his boxy smile as he sings along to the radio, wrenching your heart out of place. You stop at a fancy restaurant for dinner and both order whatever you want, throwing price and caution to the wind. You have fun making each other taste strange food combinations and making a tower of french fries on your plate. Taehyung giggles when you show him a portrait you drew of his face out of ketchup. Several to-go boxes are brought out to hold all the extra food, all getting piled into the backseat.

           It’s late in the evening when you arrive at your destination—a beach with the most breathtaking view and beautiful white sand. You drive around until you find a hotel right on the beachfront. Luckily the place isn’t completely booked since it’s still the late spring. The moon glows brightly as you both stroll leisurely by the ocean, hands tightly clasped together, footprints trailing out behind you to be swept away by the tide.

          Maybe it’s fitting that you both chose this place to spend your time together where everything feels so fleeting.

          The stars glitter overhead making the black sky feel farther, deeper. The spray of the sea feels cool on your face, Taehyung’s arms warm on your body. Tired from the long day’s drive and lack of sleep, you return to your shared room.

           He lets you shower first. The hot water feels good on your skin. You wonder how many things you’ve taken for granted until now. After washing up and eating, you sit by the window sill together and watch the ocean as it rhythmically pushes and pulls at the sand. You notice that after his shower Taehyung is looking considerably more rested.

           A sense of foreboding steals over you like a dark cloud. You sense that your peaceful moment is coming to a close. You turn back out to face the window, laying your head in Taehyung’s lap.

         He drives you to the coffee shop and sits down with you. Jimin brings you both a hot chocolate with a generous amount of whip cream. He looks worried.

         At home, Taehyung paces agitatedly, unable to pull his thoughts away from you. V’s appearance has set him off. Over and over different ideas tangle in his mind. No matter what, the ending seems bleak. If he distances himself, he can’t watch over you, but if you become any more attached…

        He shudders, gripping the back of his neck in an effort to stay standing. Everything is spiraling out of control. He doesn’t know what to do. Laughter echoes in the back of his mind, and he bristles, whirling around to see blue eyes fading into the shadows. He should have told the truth, should have warned you from the beginning. He pulls his jacket on urgently, grabs his keys, and sprints out the door. He jumps into his car, slamming the door and jamming the key into the ignition. A hand reaches over from the passenger’s side, and Taehyung watches in horror as it turns the key, quieting the engine.

       “Where do you think you’re going?”

         You and Hobi chat quietly in the cafe, sipping at your hot chocolate, not caring if it burns your tongue.

         “Look, I think when he gets here you should tell him what’s been going on. He might worry but he has the right to know.” He looks at you, his face deadly serious. You clutch your head, feeling overwhelmed.

         “I hate even thinking about this. I don’t want to put that on him too,” you whisper, your voice cracking. Hobi pats your arm supportively.

         “He won’t love you any less. He’d want you to tell him. I feel sick about this too but I’m still glad I found out.” You notice the dark circles under his eyes. Guilt sweeps over you when you realize how much he’s done for you in the past twenty-four hours. Your phone buzzes, and you check to see that it’s from Taehyung before you open it.

         “Hey, I’m really, really sorry, but I’m going to miss our coffee again. I got a flat tire. I’ll see you tonight for dinner though!”

         Relief washes over you at the thought of holding back your conversation. You can see the worry and frustration in Hoseok’s eyes when you tell him the situation. Another text from Taehyung arrives a moment later.

         “Forgive me. I love you.”

         As work comes to a close, your body is aching from spending the whole day on edge. Hobi drives you home and waits patiently while you wash up and change clothes. He drives the twenty minutes to Taehyung’s apartment in silence, his normally lighthearted self unusually sober. You thank him over and over for taking care of you, for watching your back. He simply nods, quietly asserting that he would do it over again in a heartbeat. He walks you to the door, only leaving once the doorknob starts to turn.

        Taehyung greets you enthusiastically, embracing you with his strong arms and soft scent. Relief washes over you; you lean against him for support. Yeontan rolls over at your feet, tiny paws paddling the air.

        “Dinner’s already ready. I figured you would be starving after such a long day,” Taehyung says lovingly. He looks worriedly at your tired face. “You look worn out. Did you sleep at all?” He strokes your cheek with his hand. You shrug, attempting to keep your voice bright.

         “I didn’t sleep very well but I’m fine.” You lean up to kiss him. His embrace is warm and stable, filled with love and safety. His fingers tangle in your hair as your lips mingle. You walk inside, head on his shoulder, his strong arm around you, your heart heavy. He seats you at his tiny table. You’re moved to find soft candlelight and rose petals around a wonderful steak dinner. He holds your hand while the two of you eat, running his fingers over yours with the softest touch. You promised Hobi you would tell him but every time you try it’s like you forget how to breathe, the words stick in your throat as you see his eyes light up the way he looks at you. When dinner is over you both curl up on the couch together, just talking softly.

           “Do you like living in the city?” you ask him, closing your eyes as you listen to his heartbeat. He pauses, pondering the question.

           “I like most things about it. I like the exciting shops and the people. I like that there’s so much to go out and see. But I always hoped one day to be able to buy a house with a big yard. I’d grow flowers and vegetables. Yeontan could run around outside. I’d like to be able to lay out in the sunshine.” He smiles a little at the idea, but it slowly fades. He gives his head a little shake, like he’s flicking away useless thoughts. “Still, I’m happy to be in such a nice place.”

           You look up at him, your cheek still resting comfortably on his chest.

          “I’d like to achieve that dream with you someday,” you say matter of factly. Taehyung turns bright crimson.

          “You shouldn’t say things like that,” he says quietly. His face is taut.

          “Why not? I meant it,” you insist, intertwining your fingers with his. You don’t see the pain etched in Taehyung’s face. He holds you tighter, breathing in your scent, feeling the soft touch of your skin, the weight of your body on his.

           At any moment, I could lose you.

          Safe in Taehyung’s arms and completely drained from last night, you drift off to sleep.

          Taehyung doesn’t sleep, even as the hours tick by. He traces the lines in your face. Why do you look so tired? Even with your makeup on, he can see the dark circles under your eyes. He runs his hand up and down your spine, feeling the gentle curve of your body. He tries to match his breathing with yours, so deep and peaceful. It hurts like a knife in his chest. He didn’t sleep well last night either. He keeps turning old memories over and over in his head. Remorse so violent and painful chokes the life out of him, suffocating him. He gasps for air, forced to sit up. You’re so exhausted that you don’t even twitch as he moves you down into his lap.

          After a few minutes he’s calm enough to control his breathing. How can he live with himself? Everything...everything is his fault. It’s his fault that you’re here in his arms, completely unaware of the ticking clock. He doesn’t know how to protect you...he doesn’t know how to stop loving you. He lays his head against yours, giving up completely.

          There’s nothing he can do. He can’t take back the past.

         Deep in the corridors of your dream you wander. It’s amazing how quickly you find that black door. The song drifts its way from the room behind it, like wildfire in your veins.

         There’s no hesitation as you fling the door open, running up to the angel who takes you gently in his arms, folding his black wings around you. You run a hand over his bare chest, like you haven’t a care in the world. Your mind is dizzy with unspoken emotion, you’re having trouble collecting your thoughts. He walks his finger up your arm, coming up to caress your cheek. He eyes your lips, tilting his head, his breathe hot. He stills sings, his song vibrating in your chest like a heartbeat. You lean in slowly, looking up at him, your faces just a hair’s width apart...

          He laughs, the sound like nails on a chalkboard, harsh and cruel. The song shatters. A scream fills the air, you don’t know where it’s coming from, your head is aching, you can’t process anything. The world goes black, the scream echoing back at you from the empty space.

         Someone is shaking you roughly, and you wake up completely drenched in sweat, your throat hoarse and dry. Taehyung is looking at you, terror in his eyes.

         “Are you okay?” he asks anxiously. “You were screaming, you wouldn’t stop.” His eyes are glassy, he seems about to cry. You bury your head in his chest, weeping bitterly.

         “I can’t...I didn’t want to tell you…” you sob. “Someone’s been following me, I see them everywhere, I keep having nightmares.” You’re heaving now, unable to get in a proper breath. Taehyung stiffens.

          “You’ve been being stalked and you didn’t tell me?!” he says, his voice quivering with anger. You shake your head, haunted by the nightmare, deeply ashamed that you couldn’t tell him the truth. He takes a deep breath and hugs you tighter, starting to cry as well. “You have to be honest with me, okay? I have to protect you. I only have you.” You’re both a soggy, crying heap now, buried in each other, legs tightly wound together. Your phone sounds off ominously, breaking through the night, and you click the new message, knowing exactly who it’s from.

         “A little closer next time ;) ”

         You drop your phone in shock and it clatters to the floor, the screen cracking.

         “He knows what I’ve been dreaming,” you whisper, bewildered. “How can he know?”

         Taehyung looks at you with sorrow reflected in the dark pools of his eyes.

        “I...I wish I had never met you. This is all my fault.” He runs a hand warily through his hair, tears still glistening faintly on his cheeks.

         His words cut you to the core.“Taehyung, why would you say that? You’re not making any sense.”

         “I know this won’t be what you want to hear, but I’m telling the truth. I’m begging you, please listen to me.” His whole body is clenched in agony, every word forced out of his mouth like poison. “Your stalker...he used to be my friend. He came from inside of me, he was a part of me. It was six years ago. I was just coming out of school. I wanted so badly to get a position with the company I’m currently working at. There were only a few openings, and everyone else I saw applying were on their third or fourth year of college. I was desperate to prove to people that I could make it out in the world. I remember one night laying on my bed and sobbing because I wished so badly to be able get that job.

          “That’s when V started appearing in my dreams. He was the more beautiful, more charismatic, more enchanting version of myself. He befriended me, told me I had talent, that the only reason anyone wasn’t looking at me was because I was just young. He started putting ideas in my head, making me feel special.” Taehyung’s voice is barely above a whisper now.

            “It was two weeks after he showed up that the application deadline arrived. I felt hopeless, until V proposed an idea. He told me that if I wanted, he could come out of my dreams into the real world. He told me that he had one particular talent: he was good at persuading people. The catch was, he said, that we’d have to share some of our energy—since he was a different kind of being, he didn’t have the ability to function on his own. I didn’t feel right about the idea, but he kept telling me over and over that they would never look at me since because of my age. Eventually, the day before the application deadline, we went in together and I applied. Somehow he found the hiring manager and talked to her. Something came over her, and she called me in for an interview later that week. I was ecstatic. I treated V like my brother, so grateful that he had helped me get through. I moved out of my parents’ place with my new salary. We were inseparable, I even let other people believe we were siblings.” Taehyung’s voice suddenly grows, and he clenches his fists, his eyes hollow.

           “I was so greedy, so eager to keep moving up. It wasn’t enough to just be in the company now, I wanted to get to the top. V agreed to help me do just that. Within the year he helped me get promoted twice.” His voice drops, deep with anguish.

           “It was then that everything went wrong. I’d been getting ill quite often, and it got to the point where it was getting difficult to go to work. I was so weak. Sharing my energy with V was taking its toll. That’s when I met this girl at work. I had a bit of a crush on her. She was nice and bubbly and she talked a lot.

           “I felt renewed. V noticed how happy I was whenever I talked about her. He....he wanted that for himself. One morning I realized he hadn’t been in the house for a few days. I started finding gaps in my memory. The girl I liked...she started talking about this man. A man with blonde hair like the sun and blue eyes like the sky. They’d started seeing each other. I felt betrayed, and then next time I saw him, I confronted him. He shrugged it off, telling me I was acting crazy, that if I’d wanted her I should have gotten there first. He started hanging out with her at work, and I was forced to watch. But I had no idea what he really was, what he was really doing. I was feeling better, but I noticed she started missing work a lot, she was getting sick all the time.

           “One day, I was walking to the store late at night and I saw them together. He was kneeling down, like he was proposing. I was completely devastated but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.” Taehyung looks at you now, but his eyes are staring into the distance, like he’s watching something far away.

           “She leaned over and kissed him, and I saw her just...fade away, like she didn’t have anything left. V was laughing horribly, he didn’t even move when I ran over to her. She wasn’t breathing, I couldn’t hear her heartbeat. It was just like that, she was gone. She gave herself over to him. Because she kissed him.”

           You think back to your dream, your stomach twisting in horror.

          “Okay, see you soon,” a click and the phone goes silent. You can’t shake this uneasy feeling weighing on your shoulders. You get ready as quick as you can, throwing on some random clothes after glancing to make sure they match. You wait impatiently at the bus stop, paying quickly to get inside.

          As you climb the stairs, a strong hand grabs your arm.

         “Fancy seeing you here,” the hair on your neck stands on end. V pays his fare and steers you firmly toward a seat. “Let’s sit over here! The view is better on this side,” he says brightly. Today he is dressed in a button-up shirt, a blue tie hanging from his neck the exact color of his eyes. Frozen in terror, you look helplessly out the window as V continues.

         “You know, me and Taehyung used to be the closest friends. Closer than brothers. And then...he hurt someone I loved.”

         You shut your eyes, wishing you could plug your ears, but you’re afraid to move.

          “I just want to make sure you’re well protected, before it’s too late,” he says. You look at him, almost against your will. His eyes are piercing with a terrible soberness. You shake your head, fighting against his intoxicating scent.

          “I...I don’t believe you. He would never do something like that,” you rasp, struggling to breathe. V tilts his head, looking amused.

          “You don’t have to believe me. Ask him,” he shrugs. “I care about you. You’re a lovely daffodil just waiting to be plucked out by his merciless hands. Everything he’s told you...it’s a lie.”

          The bus pulls up to your stop, and V stands up to let you get off. You make a break for freedom, tripping as you jump from the last stair down. Your knee collides with the sidewalk, blood pouring from a long gash. V asks the driver to hold for a moment, and he jumps down beside you, helping you stand up shakily. He takes a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at the blood, staining the fabric deep red. After making sure you can walk, he pats your head, and smiling at you with a dazzling smile, he jumps back onto the bus, leaving you with the bloody fabric in your hand and a searing pain in your knee. You push your way into the coffee shop, where you meet a concerned barista who looks anxiously at your still-bleeding gash.

         “That’s very deep. Did you fall on glass or something?” he asks worriedly, grabbing a towel from behind the counter and pressing it to your wound. You shrug, attempting a sheepish laugh.

         “I don’t even know. I’m just clumsy. I tripped coming off the bus,” you laugh, but even to you it sounds forced. Jimin looks at you for a long time, and then sighs.

         “I’ve got a medical kit in the back, let me get you a bandage and some medicine.” He hurries off, and moments later reappears with half the world’s supply of gauze and an enormous tube of medical ointment. Soon you’ve got an impeccably wrapped knee. It’s taken some of the edge off. Taehyung walks in just as Jimin is bringing the two of you your drinks.

         “Are you okay?” he asks in alarm, kneeling down to inspect your knee, which looks like it’s been through major surgery with all the gauze and specks of blood. You chuckle a little.

         “I scraped my knee and Jimin decided to help patch me up. He overreacted a bit,” you say, giving him a tight smile. He grips you in a tight hug, his chin resting on your head.

         “You have to be more careful!” he says, his face tight with worry. Instead of sitting across from you today, he pulls the chair around and sits right next to you, his arm around your waist. You can feel the stiffness of his body, and you wonder if he’s upset with you.

          “Did I...do something wrong?” you ask, looking up at his blank expression. He softens, pulling you closer, and takes a deep breath.

          “I was just worried. I thought something bad had happened to you,” he murmurs. He buys you a donut and walks you over to the bookshop, leaving you to be fussed over by Hoseok for being so clumsy. By the end of the day your knee is raw and sore from lifting books and running around helping customers. Hoseok drives you home as usual. Against your protests he gives you a piggyback ride up the stairs, plopping you down on the couch. He carefully unwraps the bandage from Jimin, revealing a nasty lump of a scab. Tenderly he helps clean and rebandage it.

         “You might need stitches,” he worries. “If it starts bleeding again I’m taking you to the doctor, okay?” you nod, feeling secretly grateful to be looked after.

          He makes you a quick dinner and cuts a chicken breast in the shape of a heart to cheer you up, smiling cutely when he holds it up for you to see. The two of you eat together, and he makes you promise to let him take you to the doctor if it’s not any better tomorrow. He hugs you tightly.

          “Call me if you need a ride to work tomorrow!” He waves goodbye and heads out the door. Worn out from the day, you pull out your phone to text Taehyung.

         “Hobi took great care of me. Made me dinner. He’s going to take me to the doctor if it’s not any better tomorrow. I didn’t know he could be so sentimental, haha :) ”

         A few moments later, his reply beeps in.

        “I’m glad. I thought about stopping by after work.”

         You smile, but fatigue is weighing on your body. “I’d love that, but I can barely keep my eyes open. :( Text me when you get out, and if I don’t respond I’m probably asleep, sorry. I love you!” You feel guilty for brushing him off, but you’re already struggling to stay awake.

         “You are totally fine. <3 Get lots of rest. <3 Love you too, xoxo.”

          Blushing happily, you cradle your phone, rolling over to nestle in the folds of your worn out couch cushions. You pass out immediately, sleeping so deeply that it would be impossible for anyone to tell the difference between you and a log.

          Late in the night, something stirs you awake. You feel the heavy weight of a blanket being laid across your back. You groggily lift your head, wiping the drool from your face.

          “Hoseok?” you ask in confusion. You look around to see a pair of shining blue eyes staring back in the dim light of the moon. You recoil in horror, your blood running cold. V is sitting on the edge of the couch, gently stroking your head. You sit up hastily, mouth open, resisting the urge to cry out. He looks at you, confused.

           “Something wrong? I came to check up on you after you tripped this morning.” he tilts his head, a swathe of shimmering blonde hair brushing over his dark brows. You’re unable to process what is happening. At last you find your voice.

          “How did you get in here? I never leave the door open,” you ask accusingly, your voice tense.

           He frowns and pulls something out of his pocket—you recognize it as your door key. “You gave me a key, remember?”

           You snatch it from him in a panic. Only Hobi had a key to your place; you hadn’t even given Taehyung a key yet. V holds his hands up, his eyes wide.

          “Hey, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I was just worried. I’ll head out now, okay? Go back to sleep, hon.” He pats your head, your skin crawling, and walks swiftly out.

          As the door clicks shut, you release the breath you were holding. His sweet scent lingers in the air, leaving traces of him in the room. You keep picturing his sapphire eyes, his sharp jawline, his pink lips, the dip in his unbuttoned shirt flashing his chest...

          You leap out of the folds of your blanket, running to the window and throwing it open. You gasp for breath, the freezing night air shocking you completely awake. After a few minutes you grab your phone in alarm. If Hoseok has the only key, maybe V stole it from him!

          Dialing furiously, you wait anxiously for Hobi to pick up your call. Please be okay, please be okay. At last the phone clicks, and a grumpy voice comes through.

         “Hey, what’s the meaning of calling at three in the morning?” You wince, unsure of what to say.

          “Uh...I...I don’t know, something scared me. Sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was, I’m not really awake.” You fight to keep the panic out of your voice. You don’t know why, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. You’re relieved that he is safe. You hear rustling on the other side as Hobi sits up.

           “Hey, it’s okay. Do you need me to come over?” he asks, his voice deep with concern.

           “Ah no, that’s okay. Just hearing you makes me feel better. Sorry to bother you, thanks for picking up,” you fight back the wave of confession on your tongue, tears threatening to spill over.

           “Hey, no problem, what are friends for? I’ll always pick up when you need me,” comes Hobi’s reassuring voice. “Good night,”

           “Good night,” you whisper, hanging up. You can’t hold back your emotions now. You sink into the couch again, your body shaking with fear. Hot tears burn your cheeks as they fall hard and fast. You clench the key in your fist so tightly it leaves a deep impression. How did he get this? Over and over this thought repeats in your mind. You’ll have to ask Hobi to look for his key tomorrow. Did I really give him this? You wrack your brain, unable to find the slightest trace of a memory. But you’re completely unsure—you can’t explain it but you lose your ability to function when V is around.

           You realize in horror that you don’t know for certain if he was lying.

           You cry until you run out of tears, laying there whimpering in a heap on the couch. It’s around six before you finally succumb to your exhaustion. When your alarm goes off in the morning, you wake up feeling sick to your stomach. Your head spins as you drag yourself off the couch, feeling as though you didn’t sleep at all. As you get ready and make yourself breakfast, you jump at the tiniest sound, eyes darting into every corner of the room. You wait until the last moment and sprint to the bus stop, checking behind you to make sure V isn’t following. You make it safely to the coffee shop, taking a few moments to compose yourself before you walk in.

          “How about a nice cup of tea?” Jimin calls out.

          You raise an eyebrow. “This is a coffee shop. Do you even have tea?”

          Jimin laughs, tapping the end of his nose and winking. You sit down stiffly, as you wait, your shoulders drooping. The barista finishes your tea quickly and sets it down. He picks up your knee to inspect it.

         “Did you change this recently?” he asks, eyeing the blood spots oozing their way through the white. You shake your head. You were so nervous this morning, you didn’t think to do anything other than change clothes and brush your teeth.

          “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt quite so bad,” you say quickly. Jimin clicks his tongue at you.

          “It will hurt when it gets infected and they have to chop your leg off!” He shakes a finger at you. Soon he is taking on the role of doctor again and cleaning you up. Despite feeling a bit embarrassed that he doesn’t trust you to care for yourself, you grab his hand.

           “Thanks,” you mumble. “I really appreciate all this,.”

           He smiles shyly. “It’s no problem. You really should get that stitched up,” he advises. You nod warily, not willing to argue. You sip your tea, feeling slightly more stable.

           Taehyung is late today. He dashes in ten minutes before you’re due to report for work. Jimin serves him a cup of strong coffee to help him get going. Taehyung looks almost as tired as you feel. Not much is said between you, but you both feel a little renewed as you share drinks and company. He walks you to the bookshop.

           “Want to come over for dinner tomorrow?” he asks, pulling your hand up to kiss it.

           “I’d love that,” you reply, rubbing your head against his chest. He looks like he wants to say something more, but he says nothing. Hobi bounds up to you as you enter inside inside, poking your arm playfully.

           “Wow! He was so romantic today,” he says, batting his eyes. He picks up your hand and kisses it with loud smooching noises. You laugh, pulling away.

           “Stop it, you’re being weird!” you smack him as he practically cackles. You both make short work of unpacking the morning’s delivery and spend the rest of the day on the couch reading books, only getting up to help check out customers at the register. You lay comfortably with your head on Hobi’s knee, feeling safe with his arm resting on your shoulder. The store’s bell rings.

          “Your turn!” you shout half a second before Hobi does. He groans, prying himself off the couch. He makes his way to the front of the store, but he’s back a moment later.

          “Some guy named V is asking for you,” he calls. V’s head pops around the corner. You stay on the couch, staring horrified at him as he comes and plops down next to you. You look up to Hobi for help, but he’s disappeared down an aisle.

           “Whatcha reading?” V asks, laying his head on your shoulder. Unable to think your way around this, you silently hand him the book. He flips through the pages and hands it back, putting an arm around you.

           “I forgot you’re into poetry. Such a beautiful pastime. You should share some of yours with me.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’d love to know what you think about.” His skin is extraordinarily soft, his breath warm on your lips. You can’t fight the dizzying sensation, your head is spinning. From down the aisle, you can vaguely hear footsteps. V pulls away, your head clears. He stands up as Hoseok appears around the corner.

          “I’ll have to check out that book. See ya later.” He waves goodbye, smirking as leaves. Hoseok sits down again.

          “Who was that?” he asks casually, wriggling to get comfortable. For a few moments you don’t answer, feeling completely blank. You try to speak but all that comes out is a whimper. Alarmed, Hobi pulls you into his arms, leaning down to try and look you in the eyes.

          “Hey, did that guy hurt you? Are you okay?” he asks urgently. You can’t respond with anything coherent, you simply wail. Reassuring you that he’ll be back, Hoseok runs to the storefront, changing the sign to closed and locking the door. He comes back to you and simply holds you for a while, rubbing your back and attempting to calm you down. It takes a few minutes before you can get some words out to explain.

           “He’s been following me everywhere for the past couple days. He showed up inside my house last night. Said I gave him a key, but I can’t remember doing it.” You pull the key out of your pocket, handing it over for him to inspect. “He’s the reason I hurt myself the other day. I tripped coming off the bus trying to get away from him.”

           Hobi bristles, his face uncharacteristically angry. “You should have asked me for a ride this morning. I’m going to drive you everywhere from now on. I’ll help you change your locks after work. You should have told me about this scumbag earlier! I could have helped you do something about it. Have you reported him to the police yet?” he practically growls, his eyes dark. You shake your head, hiccuping. He hisses in frustration. “I’m not letting you just try to ignore this. We’re going to report that guy,” he narrows his eyes. “I can’t believe Taehyung has been letting you wander around on your own.” You can’t look him in the eyes. “You haven’t told him yet?!” he asks incredulously.

            You start to snivel again. “He’s been so tired lately, I don’t want to make him worry.” Hoseok puts his face in his hands, rubbing his temples. After a few moments like this, he sighs.

            “Look, I won’t tell him for you, I’ll let you do it. But you have to promise me that you will call one of us if you need to go anywhere, and the next time you see V you’ll call the police right away,” you nod, and he hugs you tightly.

            “You have to be more careful,” he scolds. “You’re my best friend, don’t you dare hide something like that from me again.”

             “I won’t,” you promise. He brings you a tissue and helps you clean your face. You both close the bookstore early so Hobi can help you run errands. He helps you pick new doorknobs out, a deadbolt, and a chain lock. He also buys locks for your windows despite your protests (you live on the eighth floor) and a lock for your bedroom door. You both file a report at the police station, and an officer promises to be on the lookout when they patrol your area. The exertion of your errands sets your leg bleeding again, so Hoseok also forces you to go to the hospital and have it stitched up. Admittedly, having a professional clean and bandage the deep gash helps soothe the horrible burning.

            Once you reach home, the two of you work together to install the new locks until the apartment is completely secure.

            “Before you go to bed, put your door stopper under the front door, so even if he picks the locks he won’t be able to push it open,” he instructs. You give him a big hug.

             “I’m so glad you’re my friend, Hobi,” He hugs you back.

            “Let me stay the night and we can go to work together in the morning,” he heads into the kitchen. “Come help me make dinner!”

              With your best friend in the house, your knee properly fixed up, and new locks on the door, you feel more at ease. Soon you’re both gorging on french fries and quick stew, enjoying a movie you’ve both watched together a million times. Hobi does his best to cheer you up, jumping up every few moments and dancing around for your amusement. He pulls you off the couch and dances with you, twirling you around and making you double over with laughter. He smiles at seeing you unworried.

           You get ready for bed early, mostly for Hobi’s sake, since he’s not very pleasant when he hasn’t slept. You both check and double-check that all the doors and windows are securely bolted and that the door stopper is firmly in place. You crawl into bed in warm pajamas, feeling safe and at ease for the first time in a while. Hobi sleeps on the couch to keep watch over you. You call Taehyung and talk for a long while, telling him about your stitches and chattering excitedly for your dinner the next day and the following days off. Taehyung sounds more relaxed as well, his voice warm and lively. You hang up feeling softer, the tension relieved from your body. You fall asleep peacefully.

          An unearthly voice makes its way through the night. Notes rising and falling like birds riding the wind. Mournful, without words. Irresistible. Where is it coming from? You follow it down the long hallways of your mind, listening, your heart fluttering as the song trembles and flows. You find a black door with an ornate gold handle. The song reverberates from within. You grasp the handle, pulling the door open as if under a spell. Inside is a man with blonde hair like the sun, blue eyes like the coldest ice. His chest is bare, bronze-colored skin shimmering like stardust. Huge black wings sprout from his shoulder blades, feathers fluttering gently without any breeze. He gazes at you serenely, his song unending. Terror seizes you but you can’t stop moving toward him until you’re close enough to touch him. He strokes your cheek, his song tangling in your head, his voice low. He leans forward to kiss you.

        You bolt awake screaming. Hoseok sprints into the room, leaping onto the bed and throwing himself in front of you in a defensive posture. You cling to his back, sweat-soaked, unable to breathe. There’s no one in the room, but you swear you can hear laughter echoing.

         “Sorry,” you gasp. “I must have had a nightmare.” Hobi breathes out slowly, rubbing his neck.

          “It’s all right. I’m glad it was only a dream.” He looks exhausted. You feel guilty for scaring him, apologizing a few more times before sending him back to bed. You don’t know if you’ll be able to fall asleep again.

          Your phone vibrates, and you check it automatically, thinking it’s Taehyung. An unknown number appears on the screen.

           But it was wrong. He shouldn’t be feeling any happiness at all, certainly no joy as powerful as this.

          Taehyung carefully slides you off of his lap, standing up and stretching. He heads to his room, changes into a simple shirt and pants, grabbing a few blankets and a pillow. Placing the pillow under your head, he covers you with the blanket. For a moment he just stands there, looking down at your peaceful form. Hesitantly he curls up around you, burying his face in the back of your neck, inhaling your scent through half-closed eyes. Maybe he has hours, maybe he has days like this, but he knows it will be impossible to break away now.

          “Forgive me,” he whispers, holding you close. He doesn’t sleep for a long time; he doesn’t want to miss a single moment before it passes like sunshine in the rain.

          When the morning breaks, you awake to the sound of Taehyung’s even breathing. He looks younger than he does when he’s awake, the worry lines in his face now completely smooth. He looks smaller in the oversized shirt he’s wearing. He clings to you, holding you so close you can feel his chest rising and falling. As you snuggle in closer, he stirs; he kisses the top of your head and smiles fondly down at you. He looks exhausted.

          “What time did you go to sleep?” you tease. He doesn’t answer. The two of you lay there for a while until his alarm goes off, signaling that it’s time to go to work.

          “I’m going to call in,” he says suddenly. “Today is too good to waste. I haven’t take a vacation in six years, so I’m sure they’ll be okay with it.” He gets up and makes a quick phone call in the kitchen, coming back as you start to sit up.

          “If you want to use my shower, I’ll lend you some clothes,” he says shyly. You nod gratefully, feeling rather gross from wearing the same outfit for so long.

           He hands you a towel and some fresh clothes and leaves you to yourself. His bathroom is a little messy, his toothbrush tossed on the counter, dirty clothes scattered on the floor. For some reason this makes you feel right at home. When you’re finished washing up, you pull on a clean white t-shirt and some soft shorts. The shirt is huge on you, so you tie it up in the back to keep from swimming in it. It smells like him. You rub the fabric against your cheek, surrounded by his comforting scent.

           You come out feeling refreshed, Taehyung waiting for you. You lean naturally into his embrace, sharing the warmth of his body heat.

           “I’m going to shower too and then I’ll make us breakfast, okay? You can use my computer or watch tv or whatever you want while you wait.” He kisses the top of your head again and then heads into the bathroom. You sit down on his bed, taking a look around his room. The decor is simple and modern, black and white themed with just a desk, bookshelf, and wardrobe.

           A sleepy little nose prods your hand—Yeontan wants a cuddle. You curl up on the bed with the puppy in your lap, stroking his soft black and brown fur. Taehyung finishes his shower quickly and spends only a few minutes in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He comes out dressed in a simple navy shirt and black pants. His hair is stuck out in all directions, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight. He shakes his head in an attempt to flatten it, exciting Yeontan, who yips at him. Taehyung takes your hand, walking you into the kitchen and sitting you at the table. He makes himself busy pulling ingredients from the cabinets.

          “I...don’t know much about cooking,” he confesses sheepishly. “But I can make us some decent pancakes.”

          “Pancakes sound amazing!” you say sweetly, looking up at him with bright eyes.

          It takes a few rather ugly practice ones but Taehyung manages to make more than enough delicious pancakes for the both of you. You laugh and talk over breakfast; you sneak a tiny pancake to Yeontan, and pretend to be offended when Taehyung playfully tells you off for it. You feed each other small bites. Taehyung radiates life this morning, his smile like the sun itself. He teases you relentlessly, talks to you sweetly, and out of nowhere leans across the table and kisses you, tasting like sugary syrup. The weather is so beautiful that he suggests you both go for a walk outside. You carefully pin up your hair, wanting to look your best. Taehyung hugs you from behind, his breath warm on your neck.

          “I love you,” he whispers softly, and you whisper softly back, turning into his embrace. You close your eyes, willing time to freeze in this moment forever.

          At the end of this day spent together, Taehyung drives you home, looking wistful as he leaves you with a slow kiss on the doorstep. Loneliness aches in your heart as you watch his car fade into the distance. Taking one last look, you unlock your door, stepping carefully inside.

         Taehyung drives home with a terrible knowing in his heart. He expects this day will be the peak of his life. He still clings to a vain hope as he opens the door of his apartment, but it evaporates as he walks inside.

         He is looking into the face of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, mirror image of himself.

        “Hello, how have you been?” purrs the man in front of him.

        Taehyung backs away, his eyes losing what little spark in them was left.

        “I was expecting you,” he replies quietly. The man laughs, his voice unearthly.

        “I’ve seen your new girl,” he smirks. The man circles Taehyung, resting his chin on Taehyung’s shoulder from behind. “She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she? Of course, not unlike myself. You would know, wouldn’t you?” He laughs harshly. “You made me what I am.”

Taehyung grits his teeth, forcing himself to stay completely silent. The man pats his head, turning tail and heading out the door.

“I’ll be seeing more of you, and of course your pretty gal too.” He slams the door shut carelessly.

Taehyung drops to his knees, suppressing a sob.

He knew it would be this way.

           The next morning, you enter the coffee shop cheerfully, sitting down in your usual spot, waiting for Taehyung. Jimin doesn’t call out to you this time; he merely comes over and sets down an iced coffee, looking concerned. Normally he brings you two coffees, and you feel your heart sink at the sight of a single bitter coffee. A few minutes later you receive a text.

          “I got called in early to work. I can’t make our morning coffee. :( I am so, so sorry. See you later. I love you.”

          Taehyung’s text fills you with disappointment, and you take a sip of your bitter drink. You open your notebook, reading over the last few weeks’ worth of writing. Ever since Taehyung came into your life, your pen seems to move itself across the page, every thought you have brimming with creativity. Today, in your sinking mood, the pages stay empty.

          Ding-ding. The bell tolls in a new customer, who strolls past Jimin with powerful strides. He seats himself lazily in the corner as the timid barista stares at him, eyes wide.

         You follow his gaze to look at the blonde-haired man with brilliant blue eyes. Something about him is familiar. He leans back with a casual air, tapping his fingers on the table. He’s dressed in a navy blue shirt and gold slacks, a black jacket shrugged over his shoulders. He catches you looking at him and he winks, rising and coming over to sit at your table.

         “Uh, do I know you?” you ask, caught off guard.

         “You don’t, but I know you,” he smirks. “You and that Kim Taehyung. Quite the couple you make. Such a pretty woman,” he purrs, reaching out to touch your hair. You flinch, a wave of emotions washing over you—you don’t notice but you’re learning closer toward him while in your head you’re pulling away. He leans in closer, his eyes flickering to your lips every so often. His eyes are hypnotizing; you find yourself lost within them. Alarm bells are sounding in your head but your body won’t seem to obey you. You resist his bewitching beauty, struggling to pull back. He clicks his tongue, pressing a pen into your hand.

         “How about your number, sweetheart?” he asks.

          Before you know what you’re doing, you write your number on the palm of his hand, staring at your handwriting in disbelief. At this moment, Jimin brings the man his coffee. His hand shakes nervously as he accepts the money from the blonde stranger, and he practically sprints back to the counter. The stranger stands, cup in hand, and takes a sip.

          “Thanks babe,” he grins. You stare back, bewildered. He saunters toward the door, looking back at you as his hand touches the glass. “Ah yes, I almost forgot. Name’s V.” He puts his hand up to his ear. “I’ll call you!” he shouts, spinning around and skipping out the door.

          You blink, not sure what has just happened. You jump as you feel a small hand press firmly on your shoulder. Jimin passes you a strong espresso coffee, and taking a sip of it clears the haze inside your brain. The server narrows his eyes, something you’ve never seen him do in the years that you’ve known him.

          “That man...he...I don’t know. Be careful of him. Avoid him if you can. I’ve never served anyone a coffee as bitter as I served that man.”

          You take a deep breath, feeling shaky. Jimin pats your hand and helps you stand, sending you out the door with the strong espresso and a highly caffeinated hot chocolate. He watches you carefully through the window as you make your way over to the bookstore. Hobi bounds up to greet you as usual, but he stops at seeing your nervous attitude.

         “Hey, did something happen?” he asks, concerned. You slowly shake your head, the morning’s event dissipating from your mind. You try to snatch back your thoughts, but they seem to be out of reach. You shrug, handing Hobi the hot chocolate.

         “I’m fine! Just a little sleepy. Here, Jimin gave me an extra,” you say brightly. Hoseok relaxes.

         “Ooh I love hot chocolate!” he squeals, taking a sip. “Ah, hot, hot!” he cries. You laugh at him, smacking him for his stupidity. The two of you tease and prod each other like always, the morning coffee run disappearing from your mind.

         Taehyung enters the bookstore at noon sharp for lunch with you. You both share from the same container of ramen on the big couch in the back. He’s quiet today, his eyes looking off into the distance even when he’s facing toward you. You brush it off. He’s probably just worn out from going into work early.

         Hobi sits playfully in your lap, attempting to take a bite from your bowl. Taehyung holds it high above his head, a small smile breaking through his wary face. You relax, the worry melting away. Yeah, he’s just tired, you think. Hoseok talks excitedly with Taehyung, and you’re glad that your best friend and your boyfriend are so close. You take another bite, slurping the noodles up to make the boys cringe. You giggle at their disgusted faces.

         The rest of the day goes by uneventfully, other than for some reason Taehyung has been texting you more than usual from work. You don’t mind though; in fact you’re missing him so much that this is welcome affection. Hoseok drives you home at the end of the day, promising to come hang out over the weekend. You hum as you make your way up the stairs to your door, rummaging around for the keys in your purse. You open the door and close it quickly, eager to get to the couch to rest your aching body.

        Just as you bend to sit down, a knock sounds on your door. Groaning, you make your way to the door and open it, nearly tripping from shock. Before you is the blonde man from this morning—you’d forgotten.

       His blue eyes flash mischievously at you. Your eyes glance quickly up and down, the blood rushing to your face. V is wearing pants and a jacket...and nothing else. His bare chest ripples with strong, well-defined muscles. His hair waves over his head in golden rows, like sunrise on the horizon. Blue eyes deeper than the ocean, lips a bright cherry red, sweeter than the fruit itself... You lose your train of thought, completely tongue-tied.

        “I just thought I’d stop by since I was in the neighborhood,” he says, tilting his chin up to look down at you. You’re still recovering from this sudden appearance. He leans in close, lowering his voice. “Did you have a nice day?” he asks innocently. “It was rather nice outside. I went for a walk, and I saw some roses that reminded me of you. Soft petals like your skin...pink like your cheeks, and scent just as sweet...” He leans in closer. Much, much too close. Something in you snaps, and you pull back, moving inside the doorway.

          “What do you want?” you ask, your head finally pulling itself together. V shrugs.

          “Nothing really. I just wanted to see you, is that wrong?” He blinks. You waver uncertainly. He touches your chin, and you flinch, but you can’t look away. He smiles slightly. “Hey, don’t be nervous babe. We were meant to be.” He drops his hand. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you later!” He smiles again, his beauty breathtaking.

          You watch him go almost anxiously, slamming the door closed the moment he drops out of sight. You text Taehyung, feeling shaken again. The steady answer helps you to catch your breath. You lay on the couch, fingers hovering over the call button. After a moment, you press it, listening to the ringing.

         “Hello?” comes Taehyung’s deep voice through the line. He sounds slightly worried, or maybe it’s your imagination.

         “Hey. I missed you. I just wanted to hear your voice,” you murmur.

         “Rough day?”

          You’re quite sure you’ve channeled your inner tomato from the heat rising in your face, and you burrow deep into your pillow, giving a small groan. That was not how this night was supposed to go. You toss and turn, trying to get the image of his bright shining eyes out of your mind. You wonder why his eyes lit up like that when they seemed so lifeless before. You don’t remember anything particularly interesting happening. Frustrated with your never-ending train of thought, you tell yourself that there is no point in dwelling on him, that you’ll never see him again, and that’s that.

          And yet, the last thing you see before you drift off to sleep is the first real smile he gave only to you.

          Your alarm comes much too early in the morning. As is tradition, you flop out of bed and reluctantly begin your morning routine. Soon you’re on your way to the cafe, the warm spring air brushing your skin as you step onto the bus. You feel surprisingly invigorated when you arrive, pushing open the doors with a skip in your step. As usual, Jimin is waiting to serve you, calling out a suggestion the moment you walk through the door. “Caramel mocha?” You nod happily.

           Taking out your notebook, you sit down at your spot by the window. Sunlight bathes the pages and makes them feel fresher, more inviting. Still, the words never come easily. You chew the edge of your pencil, closing your eyes. It seems like you’re always wandering down those long blank hallways.

           Ding-ding. The door rings in a customer.

           “Just a regular cappuccino, a little cream?”

           You feel the smallest tap on your shoulder, and you look up to see Taehyung. His expression is as flat as ever.

           “May I sit here? I won’t bother you.”

           “Sure,” you say, watching him settle down in front of you. He stares out the window while the two of you wait for your drinks.

           “So...when’s your next date with Jule?” you ask casually.

           “I don’t think she liked me very much,” he says matter of factly, still looking out the window.

           “Oh… I’m sorry, that’s too bad.” Stupid, why did I ask that?

           He shrugs. “I’m used to it. I’m not what people are expecting.”

           You’re not sure how to respond to that. Jimin comes over with your respective coffees, and you both awkwardly take a sip. You wonder why he came and sat over here. You start writing again; even if it’s meaningless, at least it’s at least something to look at other than the curve of Taehyung’s jaw and his deep, intense eyes. A few minutes pass.

          “What are you writing?” he asks, tilting his head in attempt to read what you’re jotting down. You snap the book shut, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

          “It’s nothing really. I...I like to write poetry,” you mumble. You’re channeling your inner tomato again. “I’m not very good. It’s just...something to open up to, somewhere to sort out my thoughts.”

          Taehyung holds out his hand. “Can I read a little?” he asks.

          You look at him, curious. He is completely unreadable. It’s several seconds before you wordlessly hand your notebook over. The moment you let go, you want to snatch it back, but he’s already turning the pages, his eyes intensely moving back and forth over your handwriting. He reads carefully, drinking in every word, slowly making his way through your entire book.

          “You would make a good songwriter,” he says after a while. “I really like this one: The wind whispers softly my destiny. I see no horizon, only endless sky. Follow me, follow me. I’m going where my heart takes me.” You grab your book back quickly, completely mortified.

          “That’s enough looking. It’s too embarrassing listening to you read it,” you say, burying your face in your hands. Taehyung laughs, and your heart skips a beat.

          “I mean it though. You’re very talented.” He looks at you fondly. Moments later, he resumes his blank expression. Confused, you stop smiling, taking a hasty sip of your drink, which has started to go cold. He feels impossible to read. A few awkward moments pass in silence. Your alarm goes off, and you start at the sound.

          “Oh, I have to go to work now,” you say.

          He nods, and you turn to head out the door, your cold drink clutched in hand. Something like disappointment creeps over you. A hand gently touches your shoulder, and you spin around to see Taehyung standing close behind you. Much, much too close. He backs up, looking even more surprised than you feel.

          “Ah...I was wondering...could...could I get your number?”

          He holds a pen out to you, hand trembling slightly.

          “Yeah, sure. Here, let me rip some paper out for you,” you reply, doing your best not to act as wildly flustered as you feel. You open your notebook. He stops you abruptly.

          “You shouldn’t sacrifice part of your book. Here, just write it on my hand.” He holds his palm out to you. You take it, writing your number carefully on his soft skin. He closes his hand around your trace, a small smile touching his coral pink lips.

           “Ah...thank you.” He looks at you, eyes shining for a moment like they did last night. Nodding, you turn heel and bolt out across the road, slamming the door of the bookstore behind you and sprinting into the bathroom. You hear a small knock.

           “Uh...what was that?” Hoseok asks through the restroom door.

           “Nothing! I just...uh…” you stammer, not really sure how to explain what just happened. You sigh, trying to pull yourself together. “If I tell you something, promise you won’t laugh, okay?”

            You hear a snort from the outside. “Sure thing. I will be one hundred percent serious. No laughing at all,” he giggles. You peek through the door, looking up at him with a sheepish expression.

            “A guy just asked me for my number.”

           Hoseok’s eyes widen, his mouth hanging open.

            “No way!” he gasps dramatically. You roll your eyes, slamming the door in his face.

            “Hey, I didn’t laugh though!” he protests. “Come on, tell me who it is!”

             You peek through the door again.

             “Remember that guy from last night—?”

             You’re cut off by Hobi’s excited yelling. “I didn’t realize when I asked you to do me a favor it was really the other way around!” he chortles, pinching your cheeks cutely. “Aww, someone’s got herself a boyfriend!”

             You smack his hands away, your face bright red. “It might not even go anywhere, okay? He asked me, I was just trying to be nice!” As you protest, Hobi’s smirks get wider.

             “Uh-huh. And that’s why you completely panicked and hid yourself in the bathroom!” He pokes you in the belly. “Hurry up and get changed, miss, we have a lot of shelves to sort. And it’s nice outside so we’ll probably have some customers today!” Hoseok shuts the door, leaving you to get ready for work.

             You spend the next few hours in deep regret; Hobi does not let the conversation drop and comes up with every hypothetical scenario about the future nature of your relationship. By the time you break for lunch, your eyes hurt from rolling them constantly. You plop down onto one of the fluffy couches near the back of the store and pull out a sandwich, taking a huge bite as you check your phone.

            One new message.

            “Hello. This is Kim Taehyung.”

            You choke on your sandwich, fighting to breathe. You read the text again. Should you respond?

             “Hobi, he texted me!” you shout, terrified.

             “Whaaaa!” he cries, sprint and leaping onto the couch beside you. He snatches the phone out of your hand. “Wooooow! He really likes you to text you so quickly.” His eyes are huge. “You gotta text him back right now!”

              You flop onto Hobi’s lap dramatically, feeling overwhelmed.

             “I don’t know what to say,” you moan, covering your face with your hands. It’s Hoseok’s turn to roll his eyes.

             “Say ‘Hey! Want to go out later?’” he suggests. You shake your head.

             “He just had a date with a different girl yesterday, he’ll think I’m being too weird. What if I just...say hello back,” you suggest timidly. Clicking his tongue, Hobi hands you your phone.

             “Come on, you’re great! He won’t think you’re being weird. At least say something other than hello. Ask him how is day’s been or something, at least.”

            Nervously, you start to type, agonizing over every detail.

            “Hey Taehyung! How has your day been?”

             Hobi pushes send for you before you can rewrite your message for the seventeenth time. “All done! I’m going to finish my lunch, let me know when anything exciting happens!” He trots off to the register.

            Within moments there’s a new response.

            “It’s been nice enough. I really like this warm weather so I’ve been working outside. How about you?”

            You spend your entire lunch break and the next hour after that texting Taehyung. You learn that he’s currently working on his own line of fashion, that he has a dog named Yeontan, and that his favorite color is purple. You tell him that you’re not sure where you want to go in life, that you like being out in nature, and that you love working in the bookstore because you get to read on the job.

            You look up to see Hoseok taking care of your portion of books, and you realize how long you’ve been distracted. Feeling guilty, you tell Taehyung reluctantly that you have to get back to work. His new text comes through seconds later.

           “Do you work tomorrow? Can I take you up on that shopping trip?”

           Incredulous, you type back:

          “I am off tomorrow. I’d love to go! How about we meet up at noon?”

           His immediate response: “I’ll pick you up. See you then.”

           Anxious, you run to tell Hobi everything that’s happened.

          Taehyung looks at the texts, reading them over and over. She said yes. She said yes. She said yes. He feels queasy and exhilarated all at once, like being at the edge of a cliff looking down. He’s happy, but scared. He puts his head in his hands. This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake. Yet for the rest of the day, his steps are lighter, and he smiles naturally for the first time in years.

At the end of the day, he drives home, his thoughts only on you.

           Another sleepless night. Thoughts of Taehyung swirl around your head even in your dreams. In the morning you wake up early, springing out of bed to start getting ready. You shower until the hot water runs out, comb your hair until every tangle is gone, spend two hours meticulously putting on your makeup. You agonize over your outfit and eventually settle on wearing a semi-casual skirt and shirt with an especially flattering jacket.

           You look over at the clock...it’s only nine-thirty.

           It’s going to be a long morning.

           Taehyung arrives ten minutes until noon. You rush down to meet him, only managing to calm down seconds before you exit the stairwell. He gets out of his car and opens the door for you, holding out his hand in case you need to steady yourself. His cheeks are flushed with a soft pink that matches his lips.

            Everything about him exudes life today. This sudden change in demeanor is tangible. He talks excitedly in that slow, winding way of his. He listens to your responses carefully, thoughtfully, and responds with deep thoughts. You arrive at a very nice clothing store in no time at all and walk in right alongside Taehyung, your elbows brushing from standing so close.

           “How about we both pick an outfit for each other?” he suggests. You blush at the thought.

           “I don’t know if I’m all that confident in my fashion abilities,” you say shyly. He touches your hair lightly.

           “I’ll wear whatever you pick out for me without complain, even if it’s terrible,” he teases.

            “Oh yeah? What about that orange dress over there?” you grin.

            “Well it’s not really my color but if that’s what you want…” You both laugh together.

             It’s like a dream. When Taehyung laughs, his eyes form half-moons, his smile a perfect little box. Every time he looks at you, his face softens.

             You thought he was excessive in picking out dresses to replace the one he ruined of Jule’s, but that was nothing compared to today. He carefully analyzes every part of you, your eye color, your height, your skin tone, and fills an entire shopping cart full of things for you to try on. You do your best to pick out flattering things for him as well. After some debating, you decide his best colors are a pastel blue and white. You’re less certain about your choices but after a while you have quite a selection as well. You both show off your outfits, taking turns changing and jokingly strutting back and forth as if you were on a catwalk.

            You stand looking in the mirror at the end of the aisle. Taehyung comes up behind you with a necklace, gently fastening it on you. The single pendant perfectly sets off the dress you’re wearing. As you admire yourself in the mirror, you see him shyly reach to smooth your hair, then catch himself. His hand slowly drops to his side. A glimpse of his sad demeanor weighs down his shoulders.

            You turn around. “Something wrong?”

            He won’t look you in the eyes.

           “No, I’m just...it’s nothing. I’m having a really nice time,” he says softly.

            But for the rest of the day, he’s a little quieter.

           Taehyung drives you home and walks you to your doorstep. You both stand there for a while, still talking, unwilling to part ways. You only let him leave with the promise that you’ll meet up again soon. As you watch him drive away, you catch the scent of him on your skin and sigh deeply. Late that night, you’re still awake, reliving your favorite moments of the day. A text buzzes in your ear, and you open it to read:

           “Are you still awake?”

           Tap tap tap go the keys as you respond.

          “Yep!”

          “Coffee tomorrow morning before work?”

           You wriggle happily in your bed, holding the phone close as you type. It doesn’t seem like you’re going to be able to sleep at all tonight.

            Early the next morning, you burst into the cafe to be greeted by the surprised face of Jimin. He grins at you.

           “Something special today. Interesting!” he calls.

            It’s been ages since you ordered yourself, so you simply take a seat as you always do. He finishes quicker than usual, and sets two matching cups in front of you, winking at your confused expression. Moments later, Taehyung walks in, his face lighting up when he sees you waiting for him. He goes to the counter, but Jimin just points at the two cups and waves him away.

           “Did you order for me?” Taehyung asks, confused. You shake your head. “How does he always know?” he muses, taking a sip.

           “I ask myself that every day,” you shrug. Taehyung is eager to know what you’ve been writing, and you shyly show him everything you’ve penned late into the night when you’d been unable to sleep from excitement. The more you talk, the closer you lean toward each other, till your hands brush accidentally, and Taehyung’s face turns scarlet. He snaps back and launches into a sudden story about his dog to cover his awkward feelings.

           The hour ticks by, and your pleasant chatter is interrupted by the alarm on your phone. You both look at each other, neither willing to move. Slowly you stand.

          “I’d better get going,” you say. Taehyung stands too.

          “Yeah, me too.” No one moves.

          “Let’s do this again, yeah?”

           His eyes light up. “What about tomorrow?”

           It wasn’t just tomorrow. It was every day after that. It was little outings and texting until three in the morning when you both have to get up at seven. He took you to meet his dog, you both went and watched the latest movie. Today, he comes by your work to surprise you with a lunch he bought for you to share. Hobi smiles knowingly as you and Taehyung settle onto the couch together, sharing your food and thoughts. He’s familiar now—the pattern of his words, his boxy smile and soft fluffy hair, the way he dresses impeccably even on the most casual of days. You realize you’ve started leaning toward him when you sit together. He strokes your hair now, almost absentmindedly, like he too has grown familiar with your presence.

           “Are we still on for that movie tonight?” you ask, popping a piece of chicken into your mouth. Taehyung nods happily.

           “Of course we are. I’ll pick you up at seven. Let me know what you want to eat and I’ll buy it on the way,” he offers.

           True to his word, he picks you up at seven p.m. sharp, and soon you’re both settled in his apartment, Yeontan curled up between you with dewy eyes begging for some of the pizza you’re sharing. When you’re done eating you turn on the movie, an award-winning foreign film that Taehyung swears you’ll love.

           Worn out from the long day’s work, you find yourself more and more leaning on his broad shoulders. Spontaneously Taehyung pulls you into his lap, looking surprised at his own boldness. He cradles you sweetly, shyly taking your hand as you snuggle deep into the folds of his soft, oversized shirt. He smells faintly of lavender and cinnamon. Your fingers intertwine perfectly with his. Completely at ease, you fall asleep peacefully in his arms.

           You awaken to a dark room, where a soft lilting voice is floating through the air. Taehyung is singing quietly, his voice filled with deep sorrow. He’s singing your words, the ones he read from your book, but it’s his own melody he’s composed. He hasn’t meant to wake you; you don’t know how long he’s been singing before you woke, but you stay still, listening.

            “The wind whispers softly my destiny. I see no horizon, only endless sky. Follow me, follow me. I’m going where my heart takes me. I fear nothing, no harm can come when we walk together. Close your eyes, close your eyes, I will always be here for you. Beside you. My love washing over you. Together we seize the future, never waiting for the sun to rise…”

             On and on he sings, like a siren in the night. You touch his cheek and he starts, but he doesn’t stop singing. You sit up to rest your head on his shoulder, feeling his strong voice vibrate on your cheek. His dark eyes shine through the blackness of the room. So deep and clear. You lean up, pressing your lips tenderly against his, closing off his voice. He stiffens, shaken, but leans toward you, putting an arm around your waist, pulling you in closer.

          “Three full orders of ribs, a few lobster tails, one of every appetizer…” you chime, smirking at Hoseok. He clasps his chest and groans. Taehyung leans toward Jule stiffly, asking her for recommendations. You notice that he doesn’t seem particularly comfortable, but he seemed the same way this morning in the cafe, so perhaps that’s just his normal attitude.

          You order an excellent cut of steak and a nice bottle of wine for the table, taking full advantage of this rare opportunity to indulge. It isn’t long before the food arrives, and you become more relaxed as you all start to eat. Jule and Taehyung chat in earnest, although his expression still has yet to change from the blank, intense stare aside from an occasional half-hearted smile. On the other hand, Hobi is full of life and in good spirits, putting on his best to help Taehyung and Jule relax.

          “Where did you guys meet?” Jule smiles at his question.

          “We work within the same company. I don’t manage his department, but our offices are near each other. We see each other often around the floor, but I only recently worked up the courage to try and get to know him more!” She smiles at Taehyung fondly, who still sits stiffly in his chair. Hoseok glances over at you, pointing toward Taehyung under the table. It’s your turn to try and warm him up.

          “So Jule, you’re a department manager. Taehyung, what do you do?”

          “I design. Architecture, fashion, advertising…” he shrugs. The atmosphere becomes silent, and you twist your napkin, hoping dessert shows up soon. Jule pours a little wine into her glass, holding it nervously. Taehyung moves to also grab the bottle, but he accidentally knocks the glass out of her hand. Jule springs out of the way, but wine has already splattered across the bright blue of her beautiful dress. All of you are out of your seats now, frantically trying to mop up the spill. Jule is shaking, nearly in tears as she looks down at the awful stain. Taehyung yanks off his coat, wrapping it around her small form. He touches her chin gently.

          “I am so, so sorry. Please, let me buy you a new dress. Forgive me.” He lays his forehead on her hand, looking distressed. He apologizes a few more times, unable to meet Jule’s eyes. She attempts to wave off the situation, but Taehyung persists. Eventually you all agree to take the date over to the mall across the road where Jule can find a replacement dress. After dessert, the four of you walk quickly to the store.

          True to his word, Taehyung knows his fashion, and soon he has an armful of flattering dresses for Jule to try on. Somehow he also recommends an entire outfit for Hoseok, and you realize at the last moment that as they trot off to the dressing rooms together, you’re stuck alone with Taehyung. You both lean against a wall, unsure of what to say. Surprisingly, he is the one to break the silence.

          “I’m not sure this date is going well,” he confesses, his blank expression softening, sadness wrinkling the corners of his lips. “I didn’t mean to upset her. But I...I’m always like this.” He stares at the floor, his back bent warily. Unsure of what to say to comfort him, you shuffle awkwardly for a moment before speaking.

          “Jule’s a pretty forgiving person. Buying her a new dress is really nice,” you say, glancing toward him. “You seem pretty sincere. I’m sure she won’t hold a grudge. It was just an accident.” He looks unconvinced, his gloomy attitude seeping into the air. “You must be an amazing artist if you’re a designer across so many departments,” you say brightly, hoping to cheer him up. He shakes his head dismissively.

          “I do enjoy design, but I got where I am from a few lucky breaks.” He speaks with a certain level of bitterness; you worry that this was the wrong conversation to pursue. “Usually I just oversee projects and make sure none of the real designers screw up.” His voice is hollow.

         “Hey, don’t talk like that. You must be really talented if they trust you to supervise everyone else.”

         Taehyung’s back straightens a little. “I...don’t believe that, but thanks for saying that.”

         Silence threatens to grip you again, and you hurriedly push toward a new conversation.

        “We should go shopping again sometime another day. I’d love to see what you could come up with for me like you did with Hobi and Jule!”

         He looks up at you, a tinge of surprise on his cheeks.

         “I’d like that.”