Your mother once told you that the headaches will stop once you meet your soulmate, but it’s been eight years now and the fates have yet to be merciful when it comes to your pain. Once again, the date blossoms in front of your very eyes – swirls of letters and numbers only you can see.

December 25th, it reads in gold. Then a flash of bright light.

Just like the visions before it, you’re suddenly transported into another reality, one where you’re pushing past a thousand bodies to get to your destination. This time, you’re in a dress that reaches your knees, the crimson scarf you tied haphazardly around your neck threatening to come undone and be let loose to the wind. You’re not sure why you’re not wearing a coat, but it doesn’t matter, because adrenaline and the stifling crowd around you is enough to keep your body warm.

Your goal is the giant clock in the centre square, the one with the dark Christmas tree behind it. The ticking of the clock reverberates in your skull, and you hear a faint chanting from people around you as they count down with the clock's ticks.

You’re winded when you reach the barriers that protect the tree from sticky hands, breath puffing out into clouds of white against the chilly winter air. You feel your mouth opening, and then a name stumbles past your lips as you search around frantically for someone.

“Three…

“Two…

“One…

“Merry Christmas!” The crowd around you is a frenzy of bodies – lovers embracing one another as the Christmas tree turns on, illuminating the area with a tint of gold.

Yet you haven’t found who it is you’re looking for, and you feel the palpable sense of panic that sets in as you whip your head from side to side.

Look straight ahead.

And when you listen to the mysterious command, you spot him. Your supposed soulmate. With a childlike grin he points in awe at the large Christmas tree in front of him.

You know it’s him because in your vision, he’s the only one in focus, while the others around him look nothing more than people-shaped blurs.

This time, he’s in a brown coat. His hair is so dark that it looks inky black, and the strands that stick up as the wind caresses him makes him look like he’s becoming part of the night sky above him.

You try to get his attention by waving, but his gaze stares stubbornly at the Christmas tree in front of him. Then it comes to you; his name appears even though it was once shrouded with a fog in your brain, and with all your strength, you shout it into the air.

“T̶̢̥̙̈́̊à̸̛͕̗̊̚e̷̺͔̫̽̐͛ḩ̷͖͓̣̅̀̋̕͝ÿ̵̛̠̫́̈́́̕u̸̩̲͇̗̇̓n̸̨̙͓͉͠g̵̣̞͍͓̥̈̍́!̸̠̭̠̳͖̅͗̎̒”

You clamp your mouth with your hand at the swirl of distortion that leaves your lips. What was it that you said again?

For some reason though, your soulmate turns around. His eyes instantly find yours as a ghost of a smile graces his full lips. But just before the fates return your body to your reality, you thought you heard his voice – a deep, gentle baritone that silences all the other noises around you.

“I’ll find you.”

And the colours bleed away into darkness, leaving you with nothing more than a frustrated curl of your fingers into your palm.

---

Christmas is tomorrow.

The normally dark cobblestone streets are now well-lit with a thousand different lights that hang outside of storefronts. Everywhere you look, there’s a small crowd of people shopping for last minute gifts while tired clerks try to grant their wishes. It’s a nightmare to work retail, and you’re eternally grateful that you’re allowed time off during such a busy season.

Your high heels click as you make your way towards the restaurant for your usual reservation. Every year without fail, you’d book a seat for the 24th of December in front of the large window of your good friend Seokjin’s restaurant that overlooks the giant Christmas tree. Cider in hand, you’d survey the throng of people to see if you can find your mystery man, and though your efforts thus far have been fruitless, you continue to hope that every dark-haired stranger in a tan coat that stares up at the lights could be him.

The lights in the restaurant are dim, and it seems like someone’s turned the temperature up to combat the cold outside. You thank the person that takes your coat before standing in line in front of the hostess stand. While you wait, you look around your favourite restaurant. The waitstaff float around the room with practiced ease, always making sure that their patrons are well taken care of. From where you’re standing, you can spy the large white grand piano that Seokjin purchased a year ago. This time, there’s a gentleman sitting in front of it, playing covers of beloved Christmas tunes with his eyes closed.

The pianist’s neat side-swept hair is falling apart, black strands coming undone and falling into his eyelashes. His shoulders rise and fall; his body swaying as he immerses himself into the music. It’s hard not to be affected by his joy, and soon you find yourself joining him, humming along to the familiar tune. You’re so lost that you don’t realize that the people in front of you are long gone, and the poor waitress is trying to get your attention.

“Ma’am?” she calls out after stepping closer to your entranced state.

“Y-Yes? Sorry, I was distracted by the, umm…” You point to the pianist as you bumble your way through your excuses.

The tall waitress smiles softly as she looks at who you’re pointing at. “His name’s Yoongi. He’s the new pianist that Mr. Seokjin hired.” Then in almost a wistful murmur, she adds, “He’s… really something, isn’t he?”

Although her long black hair hides her features well, you know the look she’s giving him all too well, but before you can say anything to her, the waitress clears her throat and points to the table by the window.

“Gosh, where are my manners… Mr. Seokjin would tease me if he catches me like this,” she chuckles. “My name is Yus, and I will be taking care of you this evening. Now, please watch your step and follow me. Your table is ready, ma’am.”

Yus leads you to the same table you sit in year after year before reciting the specials for the night as you take your seat. The table is decorated simply, with a single pink camellia flower in the small vase next to a small tea light candle.

Having placed your order with her along with your favourite apple cider, you settle back into your chair.

“I know you’re a regular here, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention my absentmindedness to Mr. Seokjin,” she smiles sheepishly as she gathers the menu in her arms.

“Your secret is safe with me,” you assure her. Before she turns to leave, you pipe up. “I know it’s none of my business, but the pianist—Yoongi, was it? Is he your—"

“Soulmate?” Yus laughs with a nod of her head. “Is it that obvious? I have been trying to tell him, but I’ve been too scared to. My vision of Yoongi was literally him walking into the door as Mr. Seokjin introduced us to him.”

You watch with a small ember of envy as her eyes naturally gravitate to her other half.

“I don't know why but Yoongi doesn’t seem to recognize me.”

Crap. That sounds rough.

You begin to spew apologies, but Yus brightens up instantly and she waves your ‘sorry’s away. “Don’t feel bad for me! It’s really okay. I was already thinking of talking to him about it anyway.”

“Well, good luck. I hope you get to do it soon.”

Yus nods enthusiastically. “Of course. Anyway, your food will be out here shortly.”

You watch her as she leaves before returning your sights to the tree outside. It’s started snowing already, and the black cobblestone is slowly disappearing under the blanket of shimmering white. The lights dim from a few shops, and you spy a few people hugging each other goodbye. Thinking about your short conversation with the waitress, you lose yourself in your thoughts. If Yoongi doesn’t recognize his soulmate, is there a chance that you won’t recognize yours? What if you’ve actually met him in the past and you just have no clue?

Yus returns with your apple cider and a basket of bread, but you taste nothing as you bite into the soft warm roll.

Just as you’re sipping on your cider, a waiter comes towards your table, bringing with him a set of silverware and another glass of water.

“Ma’am, your husband has arrived.”

Husband? You don’t have a husband.

The waiter steps to the side and you spot a man you’ve never met coming towards you.

“I told you, I’m not her husband!” the stranger groans, dragging his palm down his face. Turning to you, he smiles, and you almost choke on your drink. Was this who the waiter thought was your husband? The stranger in front of you looks haggard, with bags under his eyes and messy hair as though he was in a rush to get here. Although he’s handsome, you’re not sure if you’re in the mood to dine with anyone, let alone a stranger.

He continues to argue with the waiter in whispers, but it seems like the only options he’s been given are to either sit with you or to leave. Judging from the way his eyes keep flitting towards the basket of bread in front of you, it seems like he’s really intent on staying.

“Miss,” he regards you gently. “I’m terribly sorry, but they seem to have booked us at the same time and the front lady assumed that we were married because we had the same last name,” he chuckles. “Anyway, this might sound unconventional, but seeing as this is the only restaurant available”— the stranger clears his throat— “well… Do you mind if I eat with you?”

This meeting couldn’t have been coincidental, especially since you’re a regular at Seokjin’s restaurant, and there’s no way your friend would screw up your dinner plans this way. If this is somehow the work of fate, and this person is your soulmate, shouldn’t there be fanfare or something? All you feel is annoyance that your dinner is rudely interrupted by the presence of another person, and you decide then and there that there’s no way this is the one.

“Miss? Were you listening?”

You wanted to say no, but upon seeing his perfect eyebrows scrunch to the centre of his forehead, you don’t have the heart to reject him. And you suppose you should be nice during the season of giving. “Sure,” you mutter before taking another sip of your cider.

Your agreement earns you a dazzling smile from the stranger.

He extends his hand. “I’m Taehyung. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Well, at least he’s polite. “Likewise,” you attempt a smile as you shake his hand. “Please, sit.”

Your cheeks warm when he takes a seat in front of you. What’s happening to you? At first glance, the stranger isn’t all that handsome, but here, in front of the flickering candle light, he looks goddamn gorgeous, and you’re not sure where the change of heart is coming from.

“So, you don’t look like someone from around here.” You figure it’s better to make conversation instead of the silence that’s been ticking through as you wait for Yus to bring him the menu.

Taehyung rubs his neck with his palm. “I guess it’s super easy to tell, huh? I just arrived a while ago and thought that I’d be able to wait until morning for food, but then I realized that tomorrow’s Christmas, which means there’s absolutely no way any restaurants would be open. Instead of spending my money on expensive room service, I figured I’d just go out and find something to eat tonight.”

“Oh? And you chose a fancy restaurant like this one?” you tease. “Where are you from exactly?”

“Far,” he responds simply, but doesn’t say anything more besides that.

You don’t pry, but you won’t kid yourself into saying that you’re not even more curious.

“What brings you here then? It’s not like this is a big city with a lot of sights,” you smile from the rim of the stemless wine glass.

Taehyung doesn’t answer immediately as he eats the last roll of bread from the basket. “Well… I don’t really know. This is gonna sound insane, but I was just sleeping one day and had a dream about this particular restaurant. Next thing I knew, I’ve already booked a flight here.”

“Was it a—Never mind.” You stop yourself from asking further. There’s this stranger that probably wants to just eat in peace and then be gone in his merry way. Plus, you’re supposed to be waiting for your soulmate, and you can’t do that with your eyes trained on another man. Even though he’s a very handsome one at that.

“Were you wondering if it was a soulmate dream?” Taehyung snickers.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to answer that if it’s too personal.”

“No, it’s fine!” Taehyung smiles. “I don’t really know if it’s a soulmate dream to be honest. I mean, all I remember is the name of this restaurant.”

You smile as you point to the unlit Christmas tree out front. “That’s why I’m here too actually. Apparently, I’m supposed to be standing out there when they plug in the giant Christmas tree.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. “Whoa. That’s the coolest! You remember so much from your vision.” His eyes sparkle as he looks the tree up and down. Then he sighs, downcast, “I wish I could say the same thing,” he mumbles.

“Hey, chin up.” You nudge his hand. “You’ll find your soulmate eventually. Do you know what she’s like?”

A sad shake of his head is the answer you receive. “No. Whoever is in charge of the soulmate system up there” – he points to the sky above – “needs a new department head, because I don’t know anything about her. It’s a miracle that I remembered this place at all.”

“Oh, God, tell me about it,” you chuckle with a roll of your eyes. “I also don’t know who my soulmate is, but I guess I have a leg up. In my visions, my soulmate always wears a brown coat.” You point to the few people outside taking pictures in front of a tree. “And as you can see, there’s a lot of people wearing brown this year.”

Taehyung grins. He raises the cup of water he’s been drinking out of. “Well, here’s to meeting our soulmates,” he pauses, and then makes sure to look at you before he raises his brows as he teases, “...wife.”

You nearly choke on the warm cider. Your stunned gaze is met with a wicked smile, Taehyung’s dark irises alight with mirth.

“You know, in the event that both our soulmates don’t show up, I wouldn’t mind being a stand-in.”

“That’s an interesting proposal,” you hum with a smirk, having regained your senses enough to retaliate. “Impress me during dinner and maybe I’ll consider that option.”

Taehyung laughs loud enough that a few patrons turn towards your table, but he doesn’t pay them any attention as he whispers, “I’ll take that challenge.”

---

Yus arrives with your order with a bright smile as you’re telling Taehyung about what you do for a living.

“I wasn’t aware you’re going to have company, ma’am,” she muses.

“Neither was I, but it’s a welcome surprise.” You wink at Taehyung, who responds with a smile, and you feel a pang of envy at whoever his mysterious soulmate happens to be. Instead of wallowing in your strange mix of feelings, you turn to the young waitress again. “So, Yus, have you talked to Yoongi yet?”

“Well... I was sort of waiting for when the restaurant closes...” she mutters and then she sighs as the corner of her lips drag down. “But then I heard that he has plans with some girl.”

“How do you know that?”

Yus glances at Yoongi, who is currently taking a break in front of the piano. “I heard him on the phone during break. He called her ‘love’ and stuff.”

“I’m so sorr—”

“It could be his sister, you’ll never know,” Taehyung interrupts.

Both you and Yus look at him with surprise.

The man in front of you shrugs. “I mean, I call my younger cousins ‘love’ sometimes.”

The longing returns in her eyes as she gazes at her beloved pianist, Taehyung’s words seem to reassure her. Just as Yoongi places his fingers on the ivory keys, he turns around and waves at her, causing the poor girl to jerk in surprise. She only managed a small half-wave at Yoongi as she walked away from your table. Before his gaze returns to the sheet music in front of him, you see Yoongi chuckle, and if the way he watches her until she disappears into the kitchen is any indication, Yus doesn’t have anything to worry about.

“Thanks for helping her out. I mean, I don’t know her, but she seems like a really sweet girl.”

“Really? I would have guessed that you’ve been friends forever,” he chuckles. “You must be really good with people.”

“I deal with people for a living,” you shrug. “It’s all part of the job.”

Taehyung smiles before leaning down as though he’s about to discuss a secret. “So, why are we playing matchmaker for a stranger then?” he whispers.

You follow his lead, pushing your plate of food to the side so you can cross your arms and lean forward. Ah, that’s a mistake. You can smell the faint hint of soap and the detergent he uses on his clothes. It smells clean and fresh, like you just stepped into a green meadow.

Of course he just had to smell so good too.

I have a soulmate and I can’t fall in love. I have a soulmate and I can’t fall in love, you chant as a reminder to yourself.

Your brain is short circuiting, having forgotten what it was he asked you just moments ago. “Huh?” you ask dumbly.

The corner of Taehyung’s lips lift slightly into a half-smirk. “Is there a reason why we’re helping Yus and the Yoongi guy get together?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to see a Christmas miracle happen, I guess,” you mumble, feeling a bit dizzy from being so close to Taehyung.

Why is your heart beating so fast? And is it just you or is he inching closer still?

“Do you believe in miracles?” Taehyung caresses your cheeks indirectly with the air that leaves his lips.

“I don’t know if I do,” you mumble. Your eyes are half-shut as you sit there hypnotized; lost in depth of his gaze. The world is a blur of colours and sound, and your focus is on those pink lips that inch ever closer to yours. “What about you, Taehyung?”

“I want to believe in them, because right now, I’m really hoping for one to occur.”

You’re playing a dangerous game.

Your soulmate is out there, somewhere in the cold, and here you are making heart eyes at the handsome stranger who just walked into your life an hour or so ago. And yet, you can’t deny the way your blood sings when Taehyung leans closer still, until his nose grazes against yours.

“Oh? Did you make a wish?” Your voice is the barest of whispers.

“If I tell you, doesn’t that mean it won’t come true?” Taehyung counters with a smirk.

“Depends. Have you been a good boy this year?”

You think the spell has been broken because Taehyung retreats back to his chair with a laugh, but as you’re about to sit up, he returns, and this time, he isn’t afraid to make up for the distance, taking up half the space of the table with his figure. You happily return to your little fun.

“Did you know that answering a question with another one is super rude, Taehyung?” you tease.

Taehyung raises his brow. “Well, I suppose that means I’ve not been a good boy, have I?”

A single inch lies between your lips and his. Taehyung isn’t interested in closing the gap. In fact, the cheeky man has his eyes closed as he sits there waiting.

The world stills, and you’re so close to giving in when Yus interrupts, and the two of you bounce apart like two magnets with the same poles. Your attempts at quelling the palpable sense of disappointment that stabs you in the gut are fruitless.

“Here’s the rest of your food. Enjoy the music and happy holidays! I’ll be around if you need me,” Yus announces cheerily.

Ugh. The spell has definitely broken this time around. Taehyung clears his throat as he surveys the plate of food that Yus left him with. You can feel the burn of his stare, but you can’t look at Taehyung in the eye anymore. Could he feel the warmth that radiates off your cheeks? What thoughts lurk behind those dark eyes?

The two of you eat your first bites quietly, and you wonder if he’s still looking at you. There’s nothing more you want to do than to peek, and after a few more seconds pass, you finally do… before your eyes shift quickly back to your food.

Taehyung smirks in your periphery, having been caught staring at you throughout the duration of the meal. Doesn’t he ever get embarrassed?

“Fuck it. I don’t care if my wish doesn’t come true, I want to tell you anyway,” Taehyung mumbles. He holds your hand on the table with his, and his thumb sweeps gently over your knuckles. “I’m really, really hoping your soulmate doesn’t show up tonight.”

“I…” Do you tell him the truth after he was honest with you? What about your soulmate? You can’t deny that you’re falling for Taehyung, but how long will that last? A week? A month? A season? Once he finds his soulmate it’s all over. This relationship is risky, and yet, you’ve never wanted anyone else the way you want him. So you squeeze his hand gently, and smile. “I guess that makes two of us,” you admit.

The smile Taehyung wears is brilliant, a great dazzling gleam in the dark candle lit restaurant.

“So, how’s the—”

“If I could please have your attention, ladies and gentleman.” A loud voice interrupts Taehyung’s question. In the centre of the room, a waiter is standing on the table. “It is nearing midnight, and we’d like to invite you to celebrate Christmas with us. Soon, the gigantic tree outside will be lit for everyone to see. There’s going to be a large crowd, so we’d love for you to leave your tables now to get the best view. Of course, your things will be safely stored here. Merry Christmas, and please watch your step as you leave the building.” He finishes the announcement with a bow and loud cheers from the patrons.

“Whoa, you’re telling me that massive Christmas tree is going to be lit up? But how?” Taehyung’s wondering out loud as he stares in amazement, his eyes trailing from the base and all the way to the very top.

The large Christmas tree is a specialty in your town and no one seems to know how it came to be. The tree would suddenly appear overnight, and overeager journalists have tried and failed to unveil the mysterious entity that puts it up. Standing at an impressive 40 metres or so, the tree is decorated differently each year. This time, its fake green spindly leaves are coated in some sort of white paint to simulate snow. Hanging from its branches are large baubles in varying shades of navy, and to top it all off, a comically long silver tinsel crawls around its branches before its edge disappears into glittering yellow star on the very top of the tree.

“I’m not sure, to be honest with you. Last year, it was the tinsels that lit up, so it could be that again. Maybe it’s the giant star?”

“Well, should we leave our piping hot food and brave the cold, then? I really want to see it in action,” Taehyung stands and extends his hand, but he quickly retracts it back. “Oh wait, let me grab our coats. We’re at table 35, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll meet you back here? Oh, how about you wait by the tree in case we get separated?”

“Sounds good.” Taehyung nods before he heads out into the fray of people. As you’re adjusting the scarf around your neck though, someone barrels into you, and you lose sight of Taehyung in the crowded restaurant.

“Taehyung?” you call out, but there’s so many bodies pressing you from every side that you’re carried outside anyway, away from your table, and away from Taehyung.

You can’t find him anywhere even when the crowd thins out. There’s too many people around the giant tree, and the clock in front of it suggests that there’s not much time left before midnight. You frantically push through the crowd, firing apologies and ‘excuse me’s to all who dare block your path. You’re exhausted from walking around in your heels, but then there’s finally a break in your path, and you urge your body to move faster until you come face to face to the steel barrier.

“Taehyung!” you scream as you search for him in the chaos.

Just as you take a step to your right, something shimmers in the air. Time slows; your body moving like jelly as you try to lift your hand.

What’s happening?

The clock chimes once, twice, three times, and on the final twelfth sound, your surroundings explode with light. The Christmas tree is lit; it’s blue baubles lighting from within and illuminating everyone with its brilliance. The crowd ripples with ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s, and you’re surrounded with people embracing, wishing one another ‘Merry Christmas’ in soft whispers. You let yourself be distracted just for a moment, your breaths coming out slow and white.

Then a voice breaks through your thoughts. “Look straight ahead,” it says. Your eyes gaze towards the right side of the barrier, and then there it is.

A sight that leaves you breathless. Just like in your vision, the world is a loud mess of blurry colours, but Taehyung stands in full focus, illuminated by the tree in front of him as though there’s a gold shimmering aura around him, staring in awe like a child in a candy shop at the tree lighting up. As though it lights up just for him.

And that’s when you know.

The ease in which you fell for him; the conversation; the laughter. Everything is so simple when it comes to Taehyung; and of course it would be.

Because there’s no other explanation that exists in this world.

Because Taehyung’s your soulmate.

He turns around to face you, and in his arms is your white jacket. You spy tears collecting in his eyes, and it’s the boost you need to get your body moving.

You’re running to Taehyung like you’ve never run before, and miraculously, no one blocks your path. “Taehyung!” you cry out in happiness, and Taehyung splays his arms wide to catch you.

And as you barrel into his chest, time resumes.

“It’s you,” you sob, clutching the fabric of his black turtleneck. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.”

“To be fair, I didn’t recognize you either,” he murmurs. Taehyung drapes your coat over your shivering shoulders, but he’s mistaken. It’s not because of the cold, but from your body’s inability to hold all the emotions you’re feeling at the moment.

“I can’t believe I found you. After all this time.”

The dam breaks, and you’re crying and your makeup is surely a mess, but you don’t care. “You found me,” you repeat, smiling through the curtain of tears.

You’re not sure how long you hug him, your arms trembling around his midsection, but Taehyung holds you there, with the lights from the tree illuminating the two of you.

“So, what do we do now?” he mumbles gently into your hair. “The visions don’t tell me what happens next.”

You sniffle a laugh. “They don’t tell me what’s next either. Should we finish our food? I’m still starving.”

“I think that sounds great. I was sort of hoping that your soulmate would stand you up tonight, but since I’m him… How about I treat you to dessert afterwards?” Taehyung winks.

“How about you impress me and maybe I’ll consider that option?” you tease, repeating your earlier words. “All right, I’m cold. Let’s head back to the restaurant.

Taehyung’s hand is warm as he leads you back to the warmth, but just as his hand wraps around the door, you hold him back and point inside.

He follows your gaze to find two people standing by the piano, and though it’s dim, judging from the long black hair, you assume that they’re none other than Yus and Yoongi.

“We should give them some space, don’t you think? It sounds like they’re talking about something super important,” you whisper.

“Great idea, but I also want to see where this is going.”

“I didn’t think my soulmate would be such a busy body,” you tease playfully.

“Ha! Pot calling the kettle black, Ms. Matchmaker.”

You’re giddy with anticipation as the two of you stand outside with bated breath, watching that the girl inside confess her feelings to her soulmate. Yoongi’s eyes expand as Yus talks, but sometime in the middle of her speech, he cuts off whatever she’s saying with a kiss, and that’s when you tug Taehyung away to give them some much needed privacy.

---

“Did you see that?” you squeal when you’re a few feet away from the restaurant. “Oh, I’m so proud of her.”

There’s a strange look on Taehyung’s face, and if you didn’t know him any better, it looks like he’s… sulking? Oh god, did you already ruin the relationship before you even had a chance to start it?

“What’s wrong?” you ask hesitantly.

“Oh, nothing,” Taehyung replies with an even bigger pout. “Just that you know… I’m feeling like I’m missing out.”

You wouldn’t assume that Taehyung would be the pouty type, but it’s rather endearing. With a smile, you grab Taehyung by the front of his coat before pulling him in. Taehyung doesn’t have time to react when you press your lips firmly against his. He makes a noise of surprise before he hums into your mouth.

His kiss warms you up from the inside, and you’re no longer cold, especially when Taehyung trails his tongue over your bottom lip. There’s another fire that alights in your body, one of urgency and hunger.

Is this how soulmates are supposed to feel? You can’t explain the deep insatiable craving, except that your body needs Taehyung, and you need him now.

“What were you saying about dessert again? Is that still on the table?” you whisper into the kiss.

Taehyung smiles, his eyes alight with mirth. “Yeah. Let me go grab the bill.”

---

You’re warm. And it’s not just because of the human-shaped furnace that’s lying on top of you, claiming your lips over and over again until they’re tender.

Taehyung kisses you like he can’t believe you exist, and you do your best to mimic the way he moves because you too, can’t believe that he’s real.

You’ve never felt as loved as you do right here; right now. Taehyung carves his affection for you through his lips, and again with his head nestled between your thighs as he coaxes an orgasm and then the next from you, until you’re left breathless and sweaty yet wanting and needy.

“Taehyung, slow down,” you would whine through the night as you mark his back with red lines from your grip.

“I can’t,” he’d respond back in a whisper, kissing you again and again to make up for the sore muscles that he’s inflicted upon you with his touch. “I have to make up for all the years I’ve spent without you.”

And the two of you would repeat this game until dawn emerges; until you’re covered completely in Taehyung’s essence, so that no inch of your flesh is left without evidence of your lovemaking.

As you lay in bed next to his sleeping figure and the early rays of dawn peeking through your blinds, you feel complete. Your lids are heavy with sleep, having not heard its call for the past 24 hours. And when you finally do drift into darkness, spent and sore, you dream of a life with Taehyung that is filled with joy – of future Christmas memories, all dipped in gold.

Epilogue

Taehyung wonders if his soulmate feels it too – that deep nausea hitting his head like he’s falling from a high point of a rollercoaster.

The sepia tones that colour the world tells him that he’s in another vision, and it’s the same one that he’s seen a thousand times. The problem is, he has no idea where this is supposed to be. None of the restaurants and shops that line the street look familiar to him.

There’s a giant Christmas tree to his left, and a loud ticking of a clock from somewhere behind him. Just like before, he stands there to admire the large silver tinsel that wraps around the plastic green leaves. The gigantic star that hangs precariously at the top sways with each winter breeze, and Taehyung wonders if it’s going to fall and squish him where he stands.

He hears it – the loud gong of the clock as it strikes twelve times. The phone in his pocket begins to buzz, rising awake through the outpouring messages from family and friends wishing him the best for the holidays. Any moment now, he’ll see his soulmate. All he has to do is wait.

Just as the crowds cheer, his ears tune into the rapid clicks of high heels against the cobblestone. His lips curve up instinctively when his heart begins to speed up.

You’re here.

Even though he wants nothing more than to turn around, he can’t. Fate has total control of his body, and until they command him to, he can’t move a single inch.

Turn around.

There it is.

With a smile, he obliges the request. Maybe, maybe, maybe, this is the vision that lets him see his soulmate’s face fully. He pushes his head to turn around first, his body feeling like it’s being stretched apart as he tries to rip himself from the invisible hands of Fate.

It’s a glimpse, but that’s all he needs.

The lights are brighter. He sees it all, but most importantly, he sees you.

The vision focuses on his soulmate for just a nanosecond, but it’s enough. Taehyung knows, without a shadow of a doubt.

In that moment, it feels like time stands still, and Fate has no power as he studies your face. Taehyung attempts to take in everything, even though he knows he won’t remember it when he wakes up: from your hair billowing in the wind; to the way you wrap your crimson scarf haphazardly around your neck; to your lips, slightly parted; and then to your eyes, filled with emotions, that’s widening in surprise.

Taehyung forces his mouth to say something, and though it’s with great difficulty, but he manages to pry his clamped lips open.

“I’ll find you,” he whispers, and is it just him or did you nod slightly in understanding?

Time resumes and the world slips away, the inky darkness welcoming him again, but not before he sees the name of a restaurant – the very same one you ran out of.

---

Unlike the other times when he wakes up from the vision, this time, he’s smiling wide. He throws the covers aside and dives for his phone on the nightstand, tapping through the screens quickly. He brings up Google and types in the only clue he remembers from his vision – the name of the restaurant his soulmate was in when he encountered her.

It doesn’t take him long to find it; and he smiles triumphantly as he confirms the gold fancy font with the one in his memory. Taehyung isn’t sure what compelled him to book a flight ticket for December 24th, right then and there, especially with the usual crowd of people trying to escape his small town, but it feels right.

And as the green confirmation check mark flashes on the screen on his phone, Taehyung feels at peace. He’ll finally meet his soulmate.

Once and for all.

bonus drabble: lazy afternoons 🌲

When the afternoon sun peeks its way into his hotel room the next day though, he’s still up for more, and his fingers trail lazily along the puffy folds of your cunt.

“One more for me?”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Tae.” Your body is sore, your limbs protesting every time you even try to move from your current position.

Your head rests perfectly on his sculpted chest, and with warm sheets draped over you, Taehyung has to be extra convincing to try and get you to leave this luxurious sense of comfort.

“Come on… to make up for lost time,” he argues teasingly, nudging you by the hip. “Please?”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond, and instead, Taehyung plunges the tip of his middle finger inside. To your dismay, your cunt greedily sucks him in, your walls already spasming as it recalls the pleasure that’s derived from this simple course of action.

“Look, you’re already so wet. What do you say, love? One more?”

Try as you might, you can’t refuse his call. So even though you whine when Taehyung peels himself from the bed to assume his position between your legs, you still spread your legs wide open for him. Your hands squeeze the sheets underneath you when his tongue makes contact with your sensitive folds. When he dives in, it’s a mess of spit and juices. Taehyung isn’t ashamed to slurp loudly, drinking in your arousal as if it’s better than any champagne in the world.

His fingers join the fray a bit later, and with practice ease, it isn’t long before he has you kicking the sheets and lifting your hips to grind into his face. Taehyung takes his time making sure you’re ready; bringing you repeatedly close to the edge without really letting you fall.

“Taehyung…” you whine in frustration. He’s playing with your body, letting the orgasm ebb and flow like a wave crashing into shore.

“Let me hear you beg for it, darling.”

“No… no more.”

Taehyung bites at your left thigh before he proceeds to kiss the mark. “Come on. Impress me and I’ll think about fucking you, hm?” He licks the mark he left you with a teasing smirk before repeating the action on your other leg.

Oh, you regret ever uttering those words in front of him.

“God… come on! I need to cum… please?” You lift your hips again to chase after his mouth, your clit desperately begging for attention.

But Taehyung’s cruel, and he blows a gentle puff of air directly on your clit. “You know what to do to get what you want,” he teases.

You let out a high-pitch moan, the cold air both a blessing and a curse to your high-strung body. “Taehyung, please!”

Your soulmate pushes himself away from your legs to loom over you and hook his long pointer finger under your chin, tilting your face up towards him. He then leans forward before dragging his tongue across your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. “Beg,” he commands as he sits up and away from you.

With a shaky whine, you spread your puffy pussy lips apart, showing off your glistening cunt towards him. Taehyung raises his brow as he watches you writhe and whine underneath him.

You bite your bottom lip, trying to find the words that will unlock the gates of heaven for you. “Won’t you come fuck me, Tae? Please?”

That’s all your pride will allow you to do, and you hope it’s enough to convince him.

“Good girl,” he mumbles.

Taehyung lines the tip of the purple-ish head of his cock to your hole before he thrusts inside, disappearing into your body inch by glorious inch.

“It’s like you’re made for me,” Taehyung whispers in wonder. “Oh god, it feels so good.”

You shudder when he sets the pace, a slow crawl compared to last night. But it isn’t long before you feel the tell tale tingling in your spine, the way your toes curl with every brush of the head of his cock against that patch of nerves. And you’re gone after drawing a faint gasp. Taehyung follows close behind you, filling you up with his warm seed as he sits there ragged.

When he begins to thrust again, you panic.

“No more, seriously, no more,” you pant, weakly hitting him on the arm. How much energy does this guy have?

Taehyung chuckles, but heeds your request, exiting out of you without so much as a grumble. “God, I can fuck you all day,” he whispers before leaving on his quest to find a clean towel.

“You did! For the entire night and now I’m sore,” you call after him with a pout, and all you hear from the bathroom is his deep laughter.

The confusion on his face melts into a look of pure amusement—something that tickles you in the wrong way. His lips lift up into a wide grin as he moves to lean up against the door frame, letting you catch a glimpse of the bright red bins scattered in the front area of his apartment. You don’t dismiss the fact that he’s prancing around his apartment in nothing but his underwear and a fuzzy black bathrobe.

“No can do, love!” he sings. “When the decorating bug bites, I shall heal my wound!”

“And you have to do that while making my walls shake with how loud you’re playing your music? There are other people in this building ya know,” you grumble.

You gesture through the rest of the hallway, towards the two doors opposite yours and Jungkook’s. You have yet to see the people who live in the apartments, but you know that there are inhabitants thanks to the—lovely—sounds of the couple in the one across from yours and the yelling of the other for them to keep it down only three days into your move.

“Ah, I forgot. You haven’t lived here long enough to know that this is how I decorate every year.” His head tilts to lay against the door frame as well. “See, you’re the only one complaining because you haven’t learned the art of deep sleep. Or buying a decent pair of earplugs.” He shrugs.

“And you get away with this that easily?”

Jungkook lets out a bright laugh, pushing himself to stand up straight. He throws his arms out, almost as if he’s going to force you into a hug, and leans in a little closer to you. You take a small step back to try to keep him out of your personal bubble.

“Of course! Everyone loves me. You should really try it sometime. You’ll find that I am something out of this world.”

“No wonder why you always look so green,” you chuckle. “Tell me how far you came from so I know where to drop kick you back to.”

You watch as he rolls his eyes and steps back into his apartment a little more.

“Whatever. Now if you’ll excuse me, this apartment won’t decorate itself.”

Jungkook gives you one last grin before he closes the door in your face. The sound of the deadbolt sliding into its place has you scowling at the man. Who does he think he is that he believes makes him the favorite tennant?

You trudge back to your own apartment, set on making a note to call your building manager in the morning about the disruption. The moment you step through your open door, Jungkook starts up his music once again, leaving you to loudly groan in hopes that he’ll hear your displeasure.

“I’m telling you, Tae. The guy is getting on my last nerve. Do you want to know how many times I’ve woken up to him playing the most obnoxious Christmas music at three in the morning?”

You whine into your phone’s speaker, a pout on your face as you retell the events of the past couple of weeks to your closest friend, Taehyung. If anyone were to turn down the aisle you're in, you would abandon your cart of groceries to get away from the embarrassment.

“Y/N-”

“Eighteen times!” You quietly shout. “And you want to know what he calls me every time I go to complain?”

“I don’t-”

“Love! Why does it have to be that out of everything he could say? I’m getting sick and tired of his shenanigans real quick, Tae,” you grumble out.

“Would you let me speak, woman?”

Your ear rings with the sudden raise in volume he speaks to you with. Though he can’t see you, you begin to shrink in on yourself, your eyes cast down at the realization of your nagging.

“Sorry.”

“Look,” Taehyung sighs. You’re sure he’s rubbing his forehead in hopes to get rid of the headache you are giving him. “I don’t know what to tell you anymore. We call every single week to catch up with each other, especially where I’m halfway around the world right now, and all you can talk about is this neighbor of yours. Hell, I don’t even know his name!”

“It’s Jungkook,” you answer as you reach for the can of soup you’ve been eyeing for the past few minutes.

“That’s not my point. My point is, maybe your dislike towards the guy is only hiding other feelings you might have for him.”

You let out a single laugh.

“Me? Have feelings other than hatred towards him? Impossible. I’ve lived here for seven months now and he has only gotten worse the longer we’ve known each other.”

You push your cart a little farther down the aisle, half paying attention to the mumbles coming through your phone and half paying attention to the different flavors of ramen you stop in front of.

“Sometimes I wish I could fly back home just to smack some sense into you.”

“You’d only come back to hurt me?” you whine. “And I thought you were my friend.”

Another groan. You’re sure Taehyung is ready to reach through the phone and strangle you for the attitude you're giving him. A moment passes before he tiredly sighs into your ear.

“I’ve gotta go. It’s 2am and I’ve got another shoot in a couple of hours.”

Your eyes are glancing around, hoping to find a clock somewhere on the walls of the store.

“Oh! Is it really that late there? I’m sorry for keeping you up for so long!”

“Nah, I enjoy being able to talk to you.” You can practically hear the smile creeping onto his lips. “At least until you start talking about loverboy.”

You freeze, brain malfunctioning at the name he gives your enemy. Why would Taehyung dare call him that in your presence?

“He’s not- just get some rest ya doof. Don’t need you dropping the camera in front of all those famous people cause you didn’t get any sleep.”

“You’re annoying,” Taehyung calls out.

“But you love me!”

“Yeah, yeah. I really gotta go now.”

You smile, happy that he is still eager to play along with your bantering. You reach out for a pack of noodles, tossing it in your cart as you wish him good luck at work when he wakes up. He gladly appreciates your encouragement and sends you a wish of a good day to you. You don’t want to end the call, too eager to hear how his travels have been over the last couple of weeks, but you know you need to if you are to focus on your shopping and get home to rest as soon as possible.

“Alright. Goodnight, Tae!”

“Night, Y/N,” Taehyung repeats softly.

You end the call and tuck your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Who was that? You’re boyfriend?”

The sudden appearance of someone next to you has you dropping the second pack of ramen you grab in surprise. The sound it makes as it lands against the ground seems to echo in the aisle. You huff, throwing Jungkook the angriest glare you can give.

“Jeez,” you breathe, reaching down to pick up the ramen. “A little warning next time would be nice.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Jungkook stares at you with a quirked eyebrow. He watches as you toss the package into your cart, reach for another pack, but decide against it as you move onto the next section in the aisle.

“Doesn’t matter. What are you doing here anyway?”

“Uh,” he thinks, lifting up the large container of ice cream in his hands. “Shopping like the rest of the people here?”

You roll your eyes at his answer. If he’s shopping around, why is he still here next to you?

“Whatever. Don’t you have some trouble to stir up elsewhere?”

“Nope! Only wherever you are, love.”

There’s that awful name again. And the smile that graces his face does nothing to stop your heart from pounding in your chest with the want to wipe it off his pretty little face.

“Would you stop calling me that?”

“What?” Jungkook muses. He steps closer to you, leaning in with his head tilted in amusement. “Will it make your boyfriend jealous?”

You scoff.

“You’re annoying.”

“And it’s entertaining when you’re annoyed.”

Jungkook takes the opportunity to wink at you, sending your mind flying at all the ways you’d get rid of his stupid grin. You turn your back towards him as you make your way to the end of the aisle.

“Let me shop in peace, would ya?”

For a moment, he doesn’t follow you. Maybe he finally is leaving you alone for the first time since moving in. Though, the peace doesn’t last long as he jogs to catch up with you as you walk around the shelves to walk down the next aisle.

“We’re going back to the same place anyways,” he hums. “I’ll just wait until you’re done.”

Your eyes drift down to his hands, catching a glimpse of the newest addition to his shopping.

“You’re only getting a pack of ramen and a tub of ice cream?”

“I have simple needs.” Jungkook shrugs and sends you a small smile before he walks off to the registers.

You try to ignore the nagging in your brain that’s telling you to hurry with the rest of your shopping. Though it’s cold outside, you know that his ice cream will melt in a matter of time. Plus it looked like he didn’t have a thick enough jacket for the weather. If he waits outside, he could get sick. You stop suddenly, throwing out a quiet apology to the person behind you when they grunt in displeasure at your action. Why am I worrying about that? you wonder. Let it melt for all I care.

It doesn’t take you much longer to finish going through your grocery list anyway. Maybe you’ll regret not staying longer for the sake of making Jungkook wait. Maybe he would have given up and left, leaving you to take your things home alone. Wouldn’t that have been nice.

The moment you reach for the bags after paying, another set of hands beat you to it. Jungkook must have been waiting inside if he managed to snatch up your groceries before you could get a chance to even touch the bags. You frown at him. With his arms full of your bags—and the single bag of his—he takes it upon himself to also put your cart away. You follow after him with your arms crossed against your chest. If anyone is looking at the two of you, they’ll think you’re crazy.

“I can take my own groceries,” you call out to him as he steps through the doors of the store.

He ignores you, only turning to skip lightly down the two blocks it is to your apartment complex.

Finally. After a full week of non-stop working; staying in the dance studio for hours on end as you try to work out the kinks of the upcoming Christmas performance you were hired to choreograph, you are given three days to yourself. It’s not that you don’t like working for the entertainment company you’re in, but now that you’re coming up on the end of the year, there’s a performance of some sort almost every week. So when you manage to get the time off, you don’t want to do anything but stay in and binge whatever show looks like it will hold your attention.

Draped against your couch, you lay with the remote in your hand, scrolling through all of your streaming services to find the perfect show or movie to kickstart your—hopefully—quiet break. So far, nothing sound interesting to you. Maybe you should give up and fall into a spiral of random YouTube recommended videos.

Thud.

You shut your eyes, your hand reaching up to rub the sudden bout of irritation the noise on the other side of the wall is giving you. All is silent for a moment. The hope you have that it was only Jungkook dropping something, picking it back up, and being on his merry way grows inside you. You sigh, happy that nothing else is happening. Though, just as you click into a video, you hear it.

“Y/N!”

It’s only mumbled at first, quiet enough that even the thin walls of your apartment make it hard for you to hear it. Maybe you’re only imagining it. 

“Y/N, I need some help!” Jungkook calls out a little louder.

You try to turn up the volume of your TV to drown him out. If you ignore him, maybe he’ll leave you alone. But that only seems to egg him on.

“Y/N! I know you’re home!”

Just one day. You ask for just one day without any interruptions from the boy next door. Pausing your video, you’re sure he knows he got your attention even with how much you didn’t want to give it to him.

“Y/-”

“What do you want? I’m trying to relax here!”

He’s silent for a moment, beginning to make your blood boil. If he wanted to annoy you that bad, he could have done it any other day. Doesn’t he know that you haven’t gotten a single day to do nothing in a while?

“Um… I got stuck,” his voice is low, almost as if he’s embarrassed for what he is saying.

“That sounds like your own damn fault.”

“Will you please just come help me?” He pauses. “I’ll do whatever you want in return.”

You stare amused at your pale grey wall. Does he know what he’s saying? Maybe he hit his head somewhere on the way.

“That’s a dangerous proposition. Are you sure you want to stick with that?”

There’s no hesitation in his voice when he responds to you. You can hear the slight desperation as he whines.

“Yes! Now would you hurry? I can’t stay like this, my leg’s starting to fall asleep.”

You sigh. There’s no way that he’ll let you have a peaceful day if you don’t heed his wishes. But you try to prolong seeing his face, ambling towards your door despite his promise of doing anything you ask of him. What are you about to walk into?

The moment you reach his front door, you don’t bother looking for a spare key. Jungkook seems like the kind of guy to keep his door unlocked when he’s home. So when you push down on the door handle, you’re not surprised to find it open.

You don’t need to step too far into his apartment to find Jungkook. With the open floor plan, you have the perfect view of his living room—where you notice Jungkook is tangled up in a large mess of Christmas lights, shoved into the branches of the half decorated tree. He’s on one leg in an invisible chair position as he tries to keep his weight off the plastic branches. You can see the strain in his face from being in the position, for who knows how long, as he glances up at you. You throw your hand over your mouth as a giggle spills from your lips at the sight.

“Don’t laugh! Just come untangle me, please,” Jungkook whines.

His pout doesn’t stop you from laughing as you enter his apartment and help save him from his impending doom of the lights overheating. Who plugs their lights in before they hang them up?

The longer you take to unwrap the colorful mummy, the more it seems like he is getting even more tangled. You can’t tell where one loop ends and where another begins. Though, you can see the relief wash over his face when the lights become loose enough to slip down into a pile at his feet. And the moment they do, you turn face and leave his apartment as quickly as you entered it.

“I’ll let you know when I’ll cash in that IOU,” you call out as you close the door behind you.

A knock on the door echoes through your apartment and you’re up from your couch and at your door before whoever it is has a chance to leave. Hoping that it’s a cute delivery guy with your food, you quickly run your fingers through your hair and open the door. The soft smile you wear fades into a frown.

“What do you want?”

Jungkook sheepishly raises the large bag of take-out—your bag of take-out—in his hand.

“They accidentally delivered this to my door.”

You shift slightly, going to reach for the bag. Jungkook must have mistaken your movement as permission to push past you into your apartment as he is now in your kitchen, pulling the containers out onto your small island.

“Come on in, why don’t you,” you mutter.

“Are you expecting someone?” Jungkook asks. He looks at you expectantly as you make your way towards him. “Although maybe not. I’m sure I would have heard the two of you by now if you were.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungkook shrugs looking down at the containers as he opens them to see what you bought.

“You seem like the loud type.”

“Excuse me?” you ask exasperatedly.

He ignores you to instead open a couple of your drawers.

“Where do you keep your utensils?”

You slam shut the drawer he opens next, grabbing his attention. You glare at him with every angry bone in your body. Did he even realise what he said? The doe-eyed look he is giving you tells you no, but if your relationship is anything to go off from, he must be playing innocent with you. He knows what he’s said.

“Nu uh. You don’t get to barge into my house, suggest you know how I am in bed, and think that you can eat my dinner.”

His jaw drops at your words.

“So you are going to eat all of this by yourself?”

“What’s it matter to you?” you argue. “A girl can’t have a big appetite?”

He moves on to another drawer, continuing his search, shaking his head in the process.

“Oh, nothing. Just surprised.”

The amount of anger your holding back from him becomes too much for you to handle. After eight months of nothing but heated conversations, being woken up in the middle of the night by whatever inspiration Jungkook magically has, and the smug look he always seems to have on around you, this is what tips you over the edge. Does he think that you should be as small and fragile as a doll? You don’t have the energy to yell at him. So as quietly and as sternly as you can, you point at your door.

“Get out.”

From the other side of your island, Jungkook perks up. His head whips around, hair flying with the sudden motion, and stares at you in confusion. The moment he sees the smoke coming from out of your nose—as if you are a fire breathing dragon ready to strike—his eyes flash with realization.

“Wait, I didn’t-”

“I said get out.”

He doesn’t hesitate to leave. Eyes downcast, Jungkook exits your apartment without another word.

Another day’s end, another long walk up the stairs to your apartment. Unfortunately, the elevator in your building has been out for a couple weeks and maintenance has yet to fix it. You know you aren’t ready for walking up five flights of stairs. After today’s segments of intense practice, you are ready to knock yourself out with a glass—or two—of wine and the warmth of your comfy bed.

Stepping into the mostly empty lobby of your building, your eyes catch the sight of your suspicious neighbor. Jungkook is standing in front of the out-going mailbox glancing around like a spy would when trying to send information to his boss. You would have walked right past him to get your own mail, but the glimpse you see of a bright red envelope intrigues you too much. He notices your gaze and throws his hands behind your back.

“What are you trying to hide?” you ask as you join him.

You try to peek around his shoulders. Is he sending a love letter to someone? For some reason your heart aches slightly at the thought. You don’t let it show on your face. Why should it affect you when you don’t see him as anything other than your enemy? Much to your amusement, you manage to reach around Jungkook and snatch the envelope from his fingers. He tries to grab it back, but you step back and turn away from him before he can.

In your hands, the bright red envelope entices you. There’s a glittery sticker of a Christmas tree holding it closed. When you flip it over, you are greeted with slightly messy handwriting and a variety of other colorful stickers. Scribbled in the center of the envelope is the name Santa Claus, and the address to the North Pole. You chuckle looking back over your shoulder.

“You still write letters to Santa?”

Jungkook avoids your eyes as you wait for his answer. He fumbles with his fingers, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

“No, this is my nephew’s.”

“Then why are you nervous, huh?” Turning around, you tilt your head and cross your arms in front of your chest. You hold the letter gently with your fingertips. When Jungkook doesn’t give you an answer, you scoff. “Geez. The one that seems so tough still sends letters to Santa. Didn’t your parents tell you the truth?”

“Just because I know the truth doesn’t mean that I don’t have to stop a tradition.” He frowns at you.

You raise the letter to look at it once more.

“I just think it’s a little dumb. You know that these things don’t make it anywhere, right? They sit at the post office unopened, untouched.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Jungkook snaps. He takes the letter from your hand and shoves it into the mailbox. “Why are you so adamant on ruining such a small thing, huh? You know, so far, you’ve been nothing but a Scrooge.” He shoves his finger into your shoulder. “Let me celebrate the way I want to celebrate.”

“I would if you learned how to turn down the music in the morning!” You shout as he walks towards the staircase.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas.”

Ornament after ornament, you carefully decorate your tree. Many of the decorations have been in your life for years, most of which are things you made in school or at home. Several of them are falling apart from the years of use, but you don’t have the heart to throw them out just yet. Too many memories. You carefully set them in their designated spaces on your small tree with a warm smile. It’s not much, but the way the lights shimmer through the plastic pine needles, makes your undecorated living room much more lively.

As the song slowly melts into the next on your Christmas playlist, your eyes drift to your shared wall. You’ve noticed. Since meeting him in the lobby a week ago, Jungkook’s apartment has been awfully quiet. Of course, it’s possible that he has left to visit family for the holiday. It is mid-December already.

The quiet air between the two apartments has left you time to think. You remember the words Taehyung has spoken to you about your situation in your many phone calls. And still, he gives you the same answer.

There is no doubt that he caught your eyes when you first moved into the building. His kind nature and the want to take up the few boxes of belongings you brought with you definitely made a good impression on you. Though, after the first few weeks, your attitude towards him changed. Sure, Jungkook stayed his sweet self, offering to help you when he noticed you struggling with your shopping bags, or asking you if you were alright when you shouted in pain after running into your kitchen island. But it became a little too much for you. You’re not sure when it all changed, but eventually he, too, got used to you nagging him during every interaction you had. Your affection quickly became irritation and soon enough you pushed all of the feelings you began to have for him to the back of your mind.

You know you have to come to terms that no matter how much he’s angered you in the past couple of weeks, Taehyung is right. You’ve been hiding your feelings for too long and now that you’ve pushed him away, you’re not sure where you stand with him. Hopefully it isn’t too late. Though, it will have to be something you solve tomorrow as you’re sure he wouldn’t appreciate your presence at his door at eleven at night.

Coming home the following day, you are greeted with a pleasant surprise. Just before you push your door open to get into your warm apartment—now that the heater is fixed finally—Jungkook’s door flies open. He’s in a rush, you can tell by the way his coat is haphazardly thrown on and his shoes are untied.

“Oh! You’re home.”

His eyes meet yours, but instead of the playful twinkle that usually welcomes you, there’s a cold front that he has put on.

“Yeah, have been the entire time,” he mutters.

You follow him with your gaze as he walks past you to get to the elevator—maintenance also fixed that thankfully.

“I thought you left to visit family.”

“Nope…” The air between the two of you is strange. Have you already screwed up your chance with him? “I’ve gotta go.”

You don’t stop him. Only watch as he enters the elevator, not giving you another glance.

“Come on, open the door.”

You’re antsy. The cookies in your hands are slowly becoming cold, and if Jungkook doesn’t answer the door in the next minute, you’re going to lose all of the confidence you have in the moment.

The past few days, after meeting Jungkook in the hallway, you spent your time trying to think of the best way to apologize. Nothing you thought of seemed to suffice. It wasn’t until you remembered that your parents had a cookie recipe that would give an opportunity to help mend your relationship.

Just as you are about to leave, sure that he isn’t going to open the door if he knows it’s you, the deadbolt clicks open. You rush out your words the moment the door opens, hoping that once he sees you, he won’t slam the door on your face.

“Can I cash in that favor now?”

“Look,” he whispers tiredly. “I’m not really in the mood right now. I’ll help you out any other time.”

You lift up the plate of cookies with an apologetic look.

“Even if it’s enjoying these cookies with me?”

Jungkook sighs. He glances back into his apartment before meeting you gaze again. Quietly, he steps back, opening the door a little more to allow you to slip past him.

You don’t say anything as you sit down on his old grey sofa. As Jungkook cautiously joins you, you unwrap the plate and hold it towards him, offering up the warm gingersnap cookies. You wait until he devours the first cookie and reaches for more to say anything.

“I’m sorry.”

Gingersnap in his mouth, he turns to face you like a deer in headlights.

“Huh?”

You shrug. Setting the plate down on the small coffee table, you fumble with your fingers.

“For everything. For yelling at you early in the morning-”

“I think I deserved that though,” he chuckles softly.

You playfully glare at him for interrupting you. He notices the look, raises his hands in faux surrender, and gives you a small smile in return.

“For pushing you away when you were only trying to help when I first moved here. For being a dick about the letter thing.”

Your heart is beating harshly against your chest. You’re sure with how quiet it is between the two of you, he can hear it loud and clear. Jungkook takes a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak. Taking the opportunity before you lose whatever confidence you have left, you speak up before he can.

“What I’m trying to say is that- IwasonlymaskingmyfeelingsforyouwithangerbecauseIwasscaredtoadmitthatIfellforyouthefirstweekImovedin,” you say breathlessly.

His brows furrow in utter confusion the longer he tries to decipher what you meant.

“What?”

“I like you.”

With a light giggle, Jungkook takes your hands. He tilts his head in amusement at the sudden shyness you’re showing him.

“I’m glad you finally realized.”

“Hey!”

He reaches for one more cookie before throwing the two of you sideways onto the sofa. Jungkook settles into your side, cuddling up to you while eating. You let out a laugh when you notice the satisfied smile gracing his face.

“Are we good now?”

“Mmm…” he hums as he finishes the gingersnap. His lips twist in thought before you notice a flash of something in his eyes. “I think I need something more than just these cookies.”

“Like what?” you ask hesitantly.

Whatever he has in mind, you’re not sure you want to know. Though, you don’t have time to protest. Jungkook quickly leans in, placing his lips against the apple of your cheek.

“That.”

Setting his face in the crook of your neck, he holds you tighter. The greatest Christmas gift you know you’ll receive.

Hope indeed. If tonight’s blind date was a failure, you could always double back to the cute guy at the door. The truth of the matter was that another year had gone by, and your family was still asking if you had anyone to bring to the annual holiday party.

Letting out a deep sigh, you think back to how much of your life (and your wallet) has been spent in the modern pyramid scheme known as dating. Several new pairs of heels, that shiny new lip gloss from Sephora, all those trips to the parlor to get your eyebrows done, and you still find yourself back exactly where you started.

Ever the cynic, you’ve compiled more than enough evidence over the years of why you should just give yourself a break and quit the dating scene. However, there’s a part of you that doesn’t buy into the whole dating culture, but sings at the thought of finding your other half. Your parents were it for each other, shyly falling in love despite having an arranged marriage. Growing up, you saw the intensity of their love and affection for each other every day, and it had you longing for a soulmate of your own.

Ping!

The chime of your phone interrupts your thoughts, a notification from CheckMate, the latest dating app that had gone viral, flashing across your screen.

JB: I’m here! All the way in the back.

You: Sounds good! Just walked in.

After asking the hostess to direct you to the table, you head away from the entrance, heart racing as you approach what could be the one. JB had seemed pretty perfect on paper - likes to cook, loves cats, has a successful job as a lawyer--

A loud sigh escapes your throat as you take in the sight of the empty table. No cat-loving man in sight.

Yet again, you’d been played.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“Good morning my lovely ____! How is my favorite columnist doing on this fine winter day?” Ryujin slides up next to you, the wheels of her office chair squeaking against the cold tile.

“It’s not even snowing outside. How much money do you need?,” you grumble, clacking away on the keyboard.

Ryujin sticks her head in your line of vision, a sheepish look on her face.

“Soooo, how was the date?”

“Non-existent, Ryujin. It was non-existent,” you cry out. “This is such a joke! How am I even supposed to keep writing this stupid column about dating disasters when the dates have stopped happening?!”

“___, I know you,” Ryujin gives you a comforting pat on your shoulder. “You’re a brilliant and talented writer. You can take even the most mundane, normal situations and spin them into something that keeps readers engaged. You’ll find a way.”

“You better be right,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “Ji-Hoon is going to have my head if I have nothing to turn in at the end of this month. And then I’ll never get that promotion.”

“Well,” Ryujin chirps, snatching your phone away. “This is a team effort. Not only do you have to get laid, but you also have to get paid. And that means extending your search nationwide.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦ You let out a groan, slipping into your coziest fleece and swiping your mug of hot cocoa from the counter. Cracking your neck, you open your laptop, the comforting notes of the Christmas pageant scene in Love Actually punctuating your anxiety as you check your email.

From: Ji-Hoon ([email protected])

“Okay, it’s December. And you know what that means. Lots of lonely people. And do you know what lonely people want to hear this time of year? That they’re not alone in being lonely. So, I better have your latest edition of Never Have I Ever in my inbox before New Year’s Eve, or you can kiss that investigative piece on the healthcare system goodbye.”

Ji-Hoon knew how to hit you where it hurt. Your boss had been keeping you on as the main dating columnist for your publication since the moment you stepped foot into the office as an intern, claiming that the real topics were “better left to the men”. You’d fought tooth and nail to prove yourself to him, your once measly column skyrocketing to become one of the publications’ most read. Begrudgingly, he declared that if you ended the year successfully, he’d give you a shot at tackling your own exposé.

Letting out another sigh, you shut your laptop closed and pull out your phone. Time to get to work. You flip through CheckMate, the first couple of matches doing little to capture your interest. The next face that greets you on the screen makes your heart drop, and you silently curse Ryujin for expanding your location settings that morning.

Jeong Jaehyun. Your hometown heartthrob from your childhood. The boy that you (and every other person in your year) had a crush on in high school. Looking as fine as ever, with his bio stating that he worked as a fitness instructor for your local gym.

What took you more by surprise than seeing the former (still current?) object of your affection on this godforsaken app was the little blue bar on the top, saying “Jaehyun likes your profile! Match now to see if you two can reach CheckMate.”

Heart pounding in your ears, you feel a flush coming over your face. You’d gone all the way through high school being the painfully shy, awkward girl. Someone who’d never had a chance of catching Jaehyun’s eye. And now he likes you on a dating app? This had to be the universe playing a cruel joke on you.

Suddenly, an idea comes to your mind. Cursing yourself for diving headfirst into another masochistic dating pursuit, you take comfort in the fact that if this turned out to be a disaster, the heartbreak would fuel you to write another edition of Never Have I Ever, and the coveted exposé would finally be yours. After all, Arthur Eddington did say that time only moves forward. So what did you have to lose?

Drawing in a deep breath, you squeeze your pupils shut and press the icon on the right.

It’s a match.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“You’re doing it again,” Ryujin chuckles, glancing over at you from the driver's seat as the two of you make your way to the airport.

“Doing what?” you sigh dreamily, eyes never venturing from your screen. Over the past few weeks, you and Jaehyun had spent every day chatting with one another, joking about everything from the horrible traffic in your city to your favorite Christmas movies. It had surprised you how well the two of you had hit it off, making plans to meet up when you arrived home to your parents’ for the holidays.

“Acting like a damn fool, that’s what!” Ryujin moans. “Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much. Like ever. You don’t even smile at me most of the time, even when I bring you coffee in the morning!”

“I am not acting like anything,” you proclaim. “He just said something really funny, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah?” Ryujin jeers. “What was it then?”

“He asked me if my name was glucose, because I’m so sweet,” you mumble, eyes looking down at the floor as your face heats up at the mention of the nerdy joke.

“Y’all are whipped for each other with a capital W,” she grins.

“Seriously, Ryujin, this feels different from all the other times I’ve chatted with someone. There’s something more there. It feels like this could actually be something.” A smile lights up your face as you gush about your interactions with Jaehyun.

“Well then, you gotta go for it!” her grin matches your as the car comes to a stop outside the terminal. She jumps out of the passenger seat, popping open the trunk to hand you your bags.

“Seriously, ___. I’m so happy for you,” she wraps her arms around you in a hug. “I hope you have the best holidays ever. I can’t wait to hear about it all when we get back.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“____! My poor baby, you’ve gotten so thin! What are they feeding you over there??” your mother’s voice reaches you across the terminal, causing a smile to break out on your face as you bound towards her, nearly tackling her tiny frame to the ground with a hug.

“___,” your dad chastises, wrapping his arms around you both. “Careful now, you know your mother has high blood pressure. Welcome home, my child.”

“So happy to be home, Baba. I missed Mama’s cooking so much,” you feel yourself tear up. It had been so long since you’d seen your parents, spending every spare moment of your time working for the promotion Ji-Hoon had promised you.

“You must tell me,” you mother clasps your hands and guides you into the car. “Any news from the big city? Have you found a boy you’d like to marry?”

“Mama!” you groan, settling in as the car starts. “You know I’m busy with work all the time, where would I even find a husband? And besides, it’s not like any of these city boys are husband material anyway.”

“I know my daughter is a very hard worker,” your mom says, a wistful note to her voice. “But I worry about you, living in that big place all alone. I just want someone to help take care of you when I’m not there, someone who makes sure that you’re not lonely.”

“I’m trying Mama,” you whisper, staring at the snowflakes that fall outside the window.

“___!” your dad interjects, thankfully steering the conversation away from this dreaded topic. “Did we tell you about the new pressure cooker we got, Mrs. Sharma’s family brought it with them from their trip…”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Shivering, you wrap your parka tighter around your frame, knuckles reaching up to rap on the door. You’d never seen Jaehyun’s house in high school. Rumor had it that he always threw the craziest parties at his parents’ house, but you’d never been invited.

The house looked cute and cozy, bedecked with twinkling lights and vibrant green garlands that emanated the warm, earthy scent of pine. You hear footsteps approaching the door, and it swings open to reveal a short woman with kind eyes that crinkle upon seeing your figure waiting outside.

“Hello,” she says. “And who might you be?”

“Hi! Hey, hi, uhhhh,’ you blurt out, the woman’s eyes twinkling. “My name is ___, I’m a friend of your son’s? I’m here to see him for the holidays.”

“Oh!” the woman exclaims. “Oh my goodness, come in, come in! He didn’t tell me we should expect company tonight. Please, please, take your shoes off and make yourself comfortable. My name is Se-ah, here, let me warm you up with some tea.”

“Yah! Are those stupid telemarketers back again? Tell them we don’t want to switch to Verizon,” a man’s voice calls out from other room.

“It’s not Verizon, Joon-sang,” she yells back. “It’s a woman, and she’s here to see our son!”

A tall, dignified man walks into the room, accompanied by a much older woman, both of their eyes widening at your presence in their home.

“This is my husband, Joon-sang, and my mother-in-law, Eun-hye, but we just call her Halmeoni,” the woman smiles.

“Ahhhh, 환영합니다 (welcome)!” the older woman reaches out to envelop you in a hug. “Are you friends with my grandson?”

“Uhhh,” you flush, giggling. “I would say we’re a little more than friends.”

The three pairs of eyes light up in glee at your statement, Halmeoni bouncing up and down and clapping her hands.

“당신은 그의 여자 친구입니까? (are you his girlfriend)?” Halmeoni questions, her eyes twinkling with hope. Sheepishly, you rub the back of your neck. You should have brushed up on your Korean skills before paying Jaehyun’s family a visit, but at least they seem happy to see you.

You hear a thump from below, causing you to raise your eyebrows at the family.

“That must be him coming back from work!” his mother claps. “Ahem, Joon-ah, there’s someone here to see you!”

“Eomma, I told you to just please sign for the packages when the UPS guy comes!” the voice from downstairs yells back.

“A girl!” his mother chirps out through gritted teeth. “There’s a girl here to see you, my dear.”

“Aw shit!” you hear a crash.

“Language!” his mother groans, stomping her foot. “Just come upstairs!”

Smiling at the chaotic scene that unfolds, your heartbeat accelerates as you hear the sound of steps coming up from the basement. This was it, you’d finally see Jaehyun in person, and sit down with his family to have a nice, holiday dinner. The love story of your dreams began now.

The door bursts open, and a tall, gangly frame wearing glasses and grey sweats stumbles through, brown shaggy hair falling into his face. You pale as you recognize the man in front of you. Jaehyun this was not.

“____? What the fuck are you doing?” he yells.

“Namjoon-ah!” his mother scolds him. “What did I tell you about language? This poor girl is here to surprise you for Christmas!”

A knot forms in your stomach, and you feel bile rise up in your throat. Looking back and forth between Namjoon’s shocked face and the smiling faces of his family members, the sudden urge to vomit overtakes you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, backing towards the door, turning as you hear Namjoon run after you. “I have to go.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“No, no, no, no, no, this cannot be happening!” you stumbled down the steps of the Kim family home. Kim Namjoon, the equally awkward kid who’d been your senior physics partner, could not have posed as Jaehyun and catfished you. The universe hated you, but not this much.

“Fuck! ___, wait up please,” you hear Namjoon’s desperate cries echo behind you. “I-,I- can explain.”

“I don’t understand,” you turn around, meeting his flustered figure. “Jaehyun, as in Jeong Jaehyun, as in not you, told me to meet up with him here at this address when I came home for the holidays. I figured I’d just stop by, say hi, meet the man of my dreams, and this is what I get?”

“I-, shit,” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, his glasses fogging up from the frosty winter chill. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You didn’t give me, I mean him, any warning that you were coming by, he was supposed to be here to meet you, I swear.”

“Hang on, stop right there,” you lift a finger to shush him. “What do you mean he was supposed to meet me here? Why would he meet me here, at your house?”

“You can’t be serious, right?” Namjoon breathes out. “You really thought all those cute lines were Jaehyun’s? Jaehyun, who’s never had a romantic bone in his body since he first walked onto the high school football team.”

You feel the blood leave your face, the tip of your nose becoming red and chapped as it begins to leak from the cold air.

“W-what do you mean?” you wail, warm tears pricking at your eyelids.

“____,” Namjoon reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder, but you flinch from his touch. “The silver lining here is that Jaehyun likes you, he really does. But we both know he’s shit at romance, especially if words are all he has. The dude saw you on CheckMate, remembered you from high school and thought you were hot, so he paid me to woo you back here for Christmas so that you two could hit it off.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is remorseful. “I didn’t think it would turn out like this. He really does like you. Maybe you should just go find him, talk to him in person, I’m sure he can help sort this all out-”

“NO!” you interrupt, causing him to jump. “I’m so fucking done. I don’t want to sort this all out. In fact, I never want to see either of you ever again!”

Your scream echoes down the street as you huff, turning on your heels and running as fast as you can.

God, you really needed a drink.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“Another one of the candy cane cocktails,” you slur, slamming the glass down onto the countertop.

“Afraid I’m gonna have to cut you off soon, kiddo,” the bartender smirks from across the countertop, his cat-like eyes taking in the sight of your inebriated figure.

“Shut it Min!” you groan. “We may not be in high school anymore, but don’t think for one second that it’ll stop me from telling Ms. Davis that you sold everybody weed behind the dumpsters.”

“Damn,” he slides you a glass of water. “Tell me, when did you get so feisty?”

“It’s called being done with the dating world, Min,” you gurgle. “You should try it some timeeee, a load off your shoulders, let me tell you! Everybody fucking sucks, that’s just the cold hard truth.”

Shoving a stack of bills in his hands, you lift yourself up, and take a few wobbly steps to the bathroom, slumping over the toilet and puking your guts out. You’re found a few minutes later by Yoongi, who takes in the sight of your figure and makes a phone call.

-----

Blinking, the bright fluorescent lights burn your retinas as you look up, the sterile smell of a hospital flooding your nostrils. Squinting, you listen closely, catching the sound of meows and woofs from around you.

A vet hospital. You were in a freaking vet hospital. How did you end up here?

“____? My name is Dr. Jung,” a sincere looking man with a heart shaped smile greets you, taking notes on his clipboard. “You’re probably still a little drunk, but I gave you some fluids and ibuprofen for the headache you’ll have tomorrow. You’re lucky that Namjoon was nice enough to bring you here.”

You whip your head around, a worried looking Kim Namjoon greeting you, and the pounding in your head becomes worse.

“I’m sorry, ___,” he says shyly. “I was worried about you and it was the first place I thought of.”

“Rest up.” Dr. Jung says, giving you a wave. “Namjoon will take you home when you feel ready.”

As soon as he walks out the door, you turn on your companion.

“You!” you screech. “What are you doing here?”

“Ummm, I think I just saved your life,” Namjoon quips, mockingly lifting his hands up next to his ears.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone!” you scream.

“Ahhh yes, about that. Well you see, there’s been a bit of a problem,” Namjoon gulps. “My parents are under the impression that we’re dating, and now they want me to bring my ‘girlfriend’ back for Christmas dinner.”

“You are crazy, Kim Namjoon! I thought you were the smart kid. Why would I ever help you?” you yell.

“Please, ___.” Namjoon drops to his knees. “You saw the way my parents looked at me tonight when they thought we were dating. I can finally be the son that they’re proud of. Just one week. I need you to accompany me to a family dinner or two. You’re totally free to do whatever you want in your free time. You can date Jaehyun. You can not date Jaehyun. I can even pay you, just please please please help me out.”

You scoff at his pleas, when your phone pings with a text from Ji-Hoon.

Tick-tock, your time is on the clock, kiddo. It’s nearly the 22nd and I haven’t gotten a peep from you. You can kiss that exposé goodbye.

This was a disaster. In the span of less than four hours, your life had turned from the sad, sorry joke it was, to an even bigger dumpster fire. At this point, the article was the only thing you had to look forward to.

“I’ll do it,” you declare, swinging your feet side to side, avoiding meeting Namjoon’s eyes. “One week, and then we break up, and you never talk to me again.”

Namjoon offers his hand, and you shake it.

“Deal.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“____, my baby, you look so pretty, I can’t believe it!” your mother coos, smoothing down the part where your dress has ridden up.

“Mama!” you groan. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh, just making sure you look all prim and proper to meet Namjoon’s parents!” she smooths your hair. “Of course, I would’ve preferred that he come over for dinner first, but who am I to complain! My baby is finding love!”

Sighing, you’re relieved when the doorbell ringing allows you an excuse to escape her doting, swinging open the door to reveal a shy looking Namjoon, dressed in a brown turtleneck and peacoat, glasses askew and holding a bouquet of poinsettias.

“Namjoon!” your dad bellows. “So nice to see you, my boy. It’s been so long!”

“Since high school,” Namjoon whispers, avoiding your eyes. “Here, I brought these for your home. I’ll be sure to have her home before 10:30, sir.”

“Nonsense,” your mother grins. “No need to rush. You two youngsters have fun, okay? We’ll be here waiting for her to come back whenever you’re ready.”

“You look nice.” Namjoon smiles. You offer him a weak smile in return, but don’t say anything.

“Okay,” he breathes, shoulders slumping slightly. “Let’s get going then.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Warmth. The Kim household radiates it, extending far beyond the crackling of the fireplace. Namjoon’s family reminds you of your own fond holiday memories with your parents, full of laughter and jokes, and more importantly, good food.

“___, Namjoon, where did the two of you rush off too that night?” his mother asks, causing you to choke on the piece of bulgogi you’d just swallowed.

“Ahhh nothing much, eomma,” Namjoon steps as you continue to hack. “We just went to Min’s to talk over a few drinks.”

“___,” Halmeoni’s attention turns to you again, and you know you can’t escape her question. “How did you and my grandson meet?”

“Ahhh yes, Halmeoni, it was uh-,” you stumble over your words. “Just some good ol’ online dating! Just text, text, send, and the next thing you know, we’re reconnecting over an app.”

“내 시대에는 사람들이 글에 사랑에 빠지곤 했습니다 (in my day, people used to fall in love over the written word),” she smiles, and you nod frantically as you see Namjoon clench his jaw.

“So sorry,” his mother apologizes. “You know, she’s a bit old-fashioned. Now, uh, what’s caused our Namjoon-ah to catch your eye, anyway? I mean, he’s an extraordinary young man, it’s just, we’re not used to him bringing anyone home.”

You feel Namjoon stiffen next to you, his shoulders tensing before they droop, and a defeated look crosses his face.

“Namjoon has such a way with words,” you start, feeling him jolt next to you in surprise. “I have to admit, I’ve been using apps for a long time, and I’ve never enjoyed conversation as much as I have with him.”

A small grin crosses, Namjoon’s face, tiny dimples poking into his cheek as his face turns pink.

“You know,” his grandmother responds. “I was telling Ms. Jeong about these apps too. Poor woman, I told her grandson should try them. After all, if my handsome Namjoon-ah can find such a pretty girl, why can’t Jaehyun?”

The smile drops from your face at the mention of his name, and Namjoon sputters, choking on his water.

“You know, Halmeoni, I, uh-, I promised ___ I’d show her my room!” he grabs your hands, causing you to let out a small gasp at how warm it is. “Yup, we were just gonna go hang downstairs, maybe play some League of Legends, you know!”

Nodding along with him, you give the three of them a wave, standing up and following Namjoon’s lead as the two of you descend into the basement. Just a little longer, and you’d be able to head home, warm up a nice cup of tea, and watch Twilight in your pyjamas.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“So,” Namjoon says, supporting your arm as he leads you down the creaky steps. “Welcome to my crib. This is where the magic happens.”

You take in the sight of half read books and his messy sheets, raising a quizzical eyebrow at his statement.

“That was a joke, I mean, I was just kidding,” he grunts, looking at the ceiling. “Not a lot of magic has happened here. At least not for me, anyway.”

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” you say, giving him a warm smile, his face lighting up at your words.

“I have a mini fridge with some beer, soda, you know all that jazz,” he gestures, looking for you, only to find you crouched over his weight set.

“No way! You lift?” you grab the dumbbell, testing out a few bicep curls.

“I may be a nerd, but I don’t just sit around at my computer all day,” he snatches the dumbbell effortlessly from your hand. “It’s important for me to stay healthy.”

“Namjoon,” you whisper, your voice dropping into a hush. “Why did you do this in the first place? I mean, help Jaehyun. It’s not like the two of you were even friends to begin with. Didn’t he shove you into the lockers once in high school?”

Namjoon’s eyes meet your own, and there’s a hint of glassiness in them before he turns away and scans his room, taking in the rumpled pillows, discarded beer cans, and ink splotches from where he left his marker uncapped the other day.

“I didn’t mean to get involved in this, I swear,” he begins, fidgeting with his hands. “But you see me, right? I’m nearly 30 and I still live in my parents basement. I thought that I’d go to college, get my engineering degree, and work in some high-powered job by now. But, life had different plans.”

“What do you mean different plans?” you question, moving to sit next to him on the bed, your heart falling slightly at the way he awkwardly shifts his body away from you.

“Wait here,” he says, the bed lifting as he lumbers to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon was turning out to be full of surprises. While the two of you had never gone beyond being acquaintances in physics class, you knew he’d been an awkward kid growing up, always too tall and too clumsy. Yet, you’d never forgotten his kind heart, him always offering to lend you notes, or stopping to water the tiny flowers that grew outside the school. He was a good person, and it made you upset to think that he could’ve been caught up in one of Jaehyun’s schemes.

A loud thud disrupts your thoughts, and you hear a shit! in the background, looking up to see Namjoon drop a large cardboard box in front of you.

“Here’s to hoping I didn’t do much damage,” he worries, a furrow in his brow. He reaches into the box, and pulls out a glass jar, which he drops into your hands.

“I don’t understand…” you take in the jar, which has the lovely scent of freshly mowed grass emanating from it.

“Well, you see, there’s been a gap in the candle market,” he wipes the dust of his pants, standing up excitedly, ready to lecture. “I’ve been to too many of my friends’ houses, and their rooms smell like bong water. It drives me crazy. I know a lot of them are too fragile to light something that smells like vanilla or flowers, so I created my own line of scents to cater to the underserved candle-loving population.”

Your mouth is agape at his revelation, and for a second, Namjoon rubs the back of his neck, seeming embarrassed that he even told you this in the first place.

“That’s amazing!” you smile, causing Namjoon to flinch slightly at your excitement. “That’s so genius, I can’t even tell you how many guys’ apartments I’ve been in that smell like ass. Why hasn’t this taken off yet?”

“Because,” Namjoon sighs. “A business requires money. It’s not like I can just ask my parents or Jin for money, they’d laugh at me. So when Jaehyun reached out asking for help, and offered to pay, I knew I couldn’t turn it down. It was wrong, but I hope you can forgive me for it.”

“Give me a discount once you launch them,” you say softly, his dimples poking into his cheeks at your words. “And I think that can be arranged.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The bright, white screen of your laptop burns your eyes as you stare back at the empty Google Doc. You’d been home for a little over a week, and no progress on the article. There was no explanation for why you were so stuck. You wrote about stuff like this all the time, right? Why was it so hard now?

Taking a sip of your peppermint latte, you muse, wondering if you’d finally reached your end writing about disaster dates. At some point, it had been fun, and you’d just been so excited to write about something, anything at all. You loved how the words flowed from your mind onto the page, and your humor while you recounted the miserable events of your life was in it’s way, a form of healing for both you and your readers.

However, amongst the jokes and the mishaps, the emptiness of being alone had started to set in. Not only that, but you began to question whether it was okay for you to consistently undervalue yourself and portray yourself as a caricature, when in reality, you were a strong, hard-working woman. That was the moment you begged Ji-hoon to start considering giving you different assignments.But only after you finished this damn piece.

And here you were, sat in a café, with no progress made at all. Your dreams had never seemed further away.

The bell tied to the door jingles, signaling the arrival of a new customer. Ever the people watcher, you tilt your head up to acknowledge the new entry, when your jaw drops. It’s Jeong Jaehyun. And he’s heading right towards you.

“____!” he yells, waving his hand, cheeks red from the cold. “It’s so good to see you, you look great! How has everything been?”

You gulp, not knowing what to say to him. On one hand, he’d deceived you by using Namjoon as a front for the conversation you two had. On the other hand, Jaehyun was who you’d fallen for in the first place.

“Listen,” he says. “I know it’s a busy time of year, but I was wondering if you still wanted to meet up? We were supposed to when you first got here, remember?”

Your thoughts drift to the day that had started this whole mess. What puzzled you was that Jaehyun seemed to have no awareness that you were in a fake relationship with Namjoon. Then, you remembered the two of them were barely friends, and Namjoon only got caught up in Jaehyun’s harebrained scheme to woo you. Still, Jaehyun had been the initial person that had caught your interest. It would be unfair to play along with Namjoon and also not give him a chance, right?

“Ummm,” you begin, your hesitancy to jump into the situation evident. “Yeah sure! Sure, we can do that. Let’s meet tomorrow morning, at the new brunch place that opened on Oak?”

He winks in response, causing your face to heat up. You look back at him, widening your eyes in expectation of some verbal confirmation.

“It’s a date.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“The prodigal son is here,” an obnoxious voice has you jolting awake from your afternoon nap, blearily rubbing your eyes when you see it’s gotten dark outside. You’d passed out after your fun date with Jaehyun that morning. He seemed like a much nicer person than you’d known in high school, and the buried teenager within you squealed at the fact that you’d finally gone on a date with the man of your dreams.

“What,” you squint, making out a shirtless Namjoon changing in the corner. You gasp, averting your eyes, hoping he didn’t catch you ogling him. “What in Rudolph’s name is that? It sounds like a siren upstairs.”

“That,” Namjoon fusses, picking lint off his sweater, offering you his hand to lift you out of bed. “Is my brother Jin. Ready to meet the favorite son?”

You open your mouth to argue-, still wearing the clothes from your date with Jaehyun, when Namjoon puts out a hand to stop you.

“___, you look fine. You look pretty actually.”

Your face breaks out into a smile, taking his hand as the two of you bound up the stairs from the basement. Looking around, your jaw drops at the cosy Christmas scene in the Kims’ living room, the whole family dressed in knit sweaters as the fireplace hung with stockings roars behind them. The two new additions catch your eye, a pretty, well dressed-woman and a tall man with shoulders so broad you can’t take your eyes off him.

“What the fuck,” you lean in and whisper in Namjoon’s ear. “You never told me your brother was so hot!”

“That’s before you hear him speak,” Namjoon shoots back. “Braincells down the drain.”

“Joon-ah!” the pretty man screams, reaching out to slap Namjoon on the back. You wince as you watch Namjoon recoil from the force of the slap. “My favorite brother! What’s going on, man?”

Finally noticing you, he cranes his head to get a better look, throwing a questioning glance in Namjoon’s direction.

“This is ___,” Namjoon steps back, and you give the family a little wave.

“Is she in Mom’s bookclub? One of Halmeoni’s knitting club friends?” Jin jeers, unable to fathom an explanation for your presence.

“Seokjin-ah, don’t be rude,” Namjoon’s mother pulls his ear, earning a yelp from her older son. “This is Namjoon’s girlfriend!”

“OH!” Seokjin sputters out. “Oh, you guys are serious! Well, I-, I, for one, am so pumped! You know, Irene and I were just wondering how Namjoon was still single. I mean, granted, he lives in the basement, and the glasses aren’t doing him any favors, but this is a Christmas miracle.”

He comes up to you, vigorously shaking your hand and thanking you. You look at him in disgust, put off completely by his rude comments about his brother. Never one to back down from putting a jerk in their place, you decide to say something.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Jin,” you reach over to sling an arm around Namjoon’s shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

The evening with the Kims passes by relatively uneventfully, well, except for the fact that you and Jin almost started a boxing match over who got to put the star on the tree. When you’d won and claimed your shiny trophy, Jin had only mumbled about how you’d put it on crooked and that he’d go back and fix it when everyone was asleep.

Yawning, you slip under the covers, the dim light of Namjoon’s desk lamp preventing you from falling asleep as your eyes begin to droop.

“Jin loves being the center of attention, doesn’t he?” you whisper, not expecting Namjoon to hear you as he works at his desk.

“He’s just used to it,” Namjoon sighs, taking off his glasses and running a hand through his hair. “He’s always been Mom and Dad’s favorite.”

“The next time he tries to steal the spotlight from you, Namjoon, steal it back,” you mumble sleepily.

Shocked, Namjoon turns to respond, tears building up in his eyes at your encouragement to stand up for himself. But when he looks, you’ve already dozed off. Smiling to himself, he flips the lamp switch and lays his head on the desk, ready to join you in the land of dreams.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“We wish you a merry Christmas… and a Happy New Year!” Seokjin’s melodic voice rings out into the cold night as he finishes the song with a pair of jazz hands amidst raucous applause.

“Your brother seems a little too into this,” you lean over and whisper in Namjoon’s ear. The Kim family had made their way down to the local nursing home to carol, as they did every year, and you’d be surprised at seeing how invested they were in spreading cheer to the older residents. Particularly Seokjin with his overzealous renditions of every song punctuated with runs and falsettos.

“He does this every year,” Namjoon grins, his dimples popping as he pushes his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “It’s his way of establishing dominance.”

Seokjin asks the crowd if there are any more requests, and Ms. Mehta, the sweet old lady who never speaks much, enthusiastically makes her plea for “Baby It’s Cold Outside.”

“___ and I got this one!” Namjoon blurts out, and you whip your head to the side and give him a look that has him gulping.

“Namjoon,” you seethe, as he holds your hand and guides you to the front of the room. “I am not singing in front of these people. Over my cold, dead, lifeless body.”

“You said not to let him steal the spotlight from me again,” Namjoon mumbles, eyes downcast. “Besides, I have an idea. Just follow my lead, okay?”

Seokjin squints at you both, and you shudder under his scrutinizing gaze as he switches on the music.

“I really can’t stayyy,” you begin, your throat burning from your off-key singing voice being unused for many years. You hadn’t sung since the seventh grade play, where you played a background shop worker.

“No problem, there’s the door,” Namjoon responds, and you’re taken aback both by his change in the lyrics, but also the pleasant quality timbre of his voice. It’s raw from disuse as well, but there’s a mellifluous sincerity to the way he belts out the words in his breathy tone.

“This evening has been,” you continue on, a smile lighting up your face and a giggle escaping when Namjoon responds with “totally consensual.”

“I hope you get home safe tonight,” Namjoon croons to the coos of the nursing home crowd as they take in your non-traditional rendition.

The two of you work your way through the song, smiling when Namjoon offers his phone to give your worrying mother a call, assuring you that the drink is just lemon Lacroix.

“I ought to say no no no,” you smile as the crowd begins to clap along and you see Seokjin’s fuming face turn red.

“I’ll call you an Uber, they’re close,” Namjoon belts.

“Well you better go outsideeee!” the two of you harmonize, finishing up the song as the room erupts in cheers, many of the residents concerningly standing up from their walkers and wheelchairs to give you their kudos.

A strange feeling blooms in Namjoon’s chest as he stares into your sparkling eyes, laughing as you chat with the crowd and blush at their compliments.

“Excuse me, everyone!” Seokjin interrupts the festivities with his booming voice. “Irene and I have an announcement to make. Mom, Dad, you’re going to be grandparents.”

The crowd goes even wilder at his announcement, and you see Mr. and Mrs. Kim rush to his side, tears in their eyes, as they take in the happy news. Looking to your other side, you see a dejected Namjoon offer you a weak smile before he turns his head away and stares at the wall. Your heart drops at his sadness, remembering how happy he’d been moments before.

“May I have everyone’s attention please?” Namjoon barks out, his voice clipped. You can feel the acrimony radiating off him in waves. “Hyung, I just want to say congrats to you and Irene, it’s a dream come true for you both. Seeing you so happy and in love… it was a dream I never dared to have for myself. Until I met ___.”

You balk as Namjoon approaches you, dropping onto one knee, clenching your teeth as you motion for him to stop.

“___,” he begins, and you want to lift a hand to stop him right there, but fear doing it in front of so many people.

“Get up right now,” you hiss, rage crawling up the back of your neck.

“I know we haven’t known each other for that long,” he continues. “But they say when you know, you know. Will you marry me?”

A hush falls over the crowd as Mrs. Kim lets out a loud gasp, tears of joy flooding her eyes, and through the pounding of your heart, you hear Seokjin mumble about how Namjoon doesn’t even have a ring. Everything feels so blurry and out of focus, and your feet feel stuck, almost absorbed in a pool of quicksand. You want to do something to escape this situation, to run away, but you can’t.

Suddenly, you hear a shuffling to your side as you see Halmeoni come to stand right beside you, pulling off her mitten and slipping the dainty emerald ring off her finger and offering it to Namjoon.The cheers from the crowd become louder, all of them pleading for you to say yes.

You close your eyes, sighing and taking a deep breath as you try to calm your racing heart. This has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, but you’d find a way out of this later.

“Yes,” you breathe out shakily, gasping as he slips the ring onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“Listen,” Namjoon stutters, chasing after you as you stomp down the stairs to the basement. “I know you’re mad, but you told me to stand up for myself!”

“I told you to stand up for yourself, Namjoon, not fucking get down on one knee!” you seethe, feeling your face heat up with fury. “Your grandma gave me a ring off of her finger!”

You collapse onto his bed and sob. Namjoon reaches over to pull you against him, but withdraws upon seeing your anger.

“Nothing has to change,” he says sadly. “We can make it through Christmas and then you’ll go back to the city and we’ll tell everyone that things didn’t work out.”

“Trust me,” you feel the bed dip as he sits down next to you. “I’m used to being the family disappointment, they won’t think anything of it at all.”

“I have a date with Jaehyun tomorrow too!” you wail. “What if he finds out? Fix this!”

. . .

Startled, you run up the stairs straight into Namjoon’s father bringing in firewood from outside.

“Ahhhh ___,” he remarks. “Would you like to help me out and get the fireplace going?”

“Sure!” you say a little too desperately, wanting anything to get your mind off of Namjoon. You watch him hunch over the fireplace and start scrunching up bits of newspaper along with the wood, and are taken aback by how much Namjoon looks like his father. Looking for any form of distraction, you peer at the framed photos that rest on the mantle, one of them in particular catching your eye.

“Who’s this?” you point to an older photo, recognizing all of the members of the Kim family except a man with gray hair.

“That was my dad,” Mr. Kim reminisces. “He passed a few years ago. There were two things that man loved more than anything - Namjoon and Christmas. He would always play pretend with Namjoon and climb up on the rooftop and stomp around like Santa had come. Joon couldn’t get enough of it!”

A smile breaks out onto your face at the mention of the happy memory, and you hold the frame in your hands to see a small Namjoon in front of his grandfather, dimples on display and glasses too big for his tiny face.

“You know, ___,” Mr. Kim interrupts you. “We’re really happy to have you joining the family. Namjoon hasn’t been the same since his grandfather passed. He’s always been quiet and shy, but he seems even more reserved now. I’m so glad he has you to break him out of his shell.”

Your heart drops in your chest at the tenderness in his voice. You’d have to break all of their hearts soon.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“Namjoon, you have to help me, I’m freaking out,” you heave, sitting on the floor of the public bathroom as you panic.

This morning, you’d gone on a lovely hike with Jaehyung through the forest, the two of you exchanging shy glances and laughing over family stories. You had just been in the middle of thanking him for such a wonderful hiking date when he’d sent your expectations crashing down in one second, informing you that the real date was going downhill skiing with him.

“Ok, just breathe,” Namjoon’s voice crackles over the speaker. “Do you have your AirPods? Just put them in and listen to music.”

You frantically rummage through your bag for the earbuds, heart dropping when you realize you’d left the one item that could’ve saved you from ruin at home. Instead, your arm closes around a small item wrapped in plastic, and you smile to yourself as you pull out the gummy from your backpack.

“I found something better than Airpods.” A smug smile lights up your face.

. . .

Swaying, you bound down the basement stairs with a skip in your step, greeting Namjoon as he sits hunched over his desk.

“Glad you’re not dead,” Namjoon quips, taking in the sight of your exuberant figure.

“I’ve never felt more alive!” you shout into the void, protesting as Namjoon clamps a hand over your mouth. “Jaehyun asked me out on a date tomorrow night. You know, it feels like things are finally looking up. I finally met someone who’s as perfect on paper as he is in real life.”

A grim look colors Namjoon’s features as he juts his jaw out, clenching it to bite back his counter-argument to your statement.

“You know,” Namjoon begins, unable to contain himself. “Jaehyun is far from perfect. In fact, in some cultures, perfect eyesight and facial symmetry are considered repulsive.”

“Why are you being so weird?” you scrunch your eyebrows, hopping over to join Namjoon’s side at his desk. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just mixing some new scents,” Namjoon mumbles, staring at the wall.

You lean over him to pick up a candle, inhaling deeply as the smell of freshly cut grass permeates your senses. Namjoon is quick to tell you that the candle is named Lawnmower, and you roll your eyes at his lack of creativity. The next one you sample has the smell of sweat, but also motor oil, lending itself to a surprisingly pleasant scent. Namjoon raises yet another eyebrow, telling you this one is named Jiffy Lube.

You pick another candle up from the batch, but before you can begin to smell, Namjoon reaches over and attempts to snatch it from your grasp.

“Sorry! That one’s for me,” he squawks, but you move your arm out of the way just in time. Taking a deep whiff, you nearly groan at the delightful scent that meets your nostrils, the notes tinged with eucalyptus, Old Spice, and the tiniest hint of what you presume to be gasoline.

“What is this one?” you sigh, taking another deep inhale. “It smells so good.”

Namjoon stares tenderly at the candle in your hands, a far-off look in his eyes.

“It’s called Grandpa,” he smiles wistfully. “I started making candles because of him in the first place. The ability to take a scent, and create something so thoughtful, something so familiar. I-, I thought it would help keep his memory alive. It’s lame, I know.”

He chokes on the last few syllables, eyes misting as he quickly turns his head, not wanting you to see his emotions shine through.

“It’s not lame, Namjoon,” you whisper, putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning in to rest your head in the crook of his neck. “It’s really sweet. You’re really sweet.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“Pass the popcorn please,” your mother asks, the two of you curled up underneath the blanket while your father sits on the armchair next to you.

The soft hum of Silent Night echoes in the background as Love Actually plays on the tv. With all the craziness of the past few days, it was nice to be able to sit down and enjoy your time with your parents.You had yet to tell them about your “engagement”. It all seemed so surreal, and you wanted to have the peace and quiet that came with being home for the holidays.

All of a sudden, your phone pings, a notification from Namjoon lighting up your screen.

“We have a problem. The engagement announcement was sent to the paper by my grandma. Meet me outside your house in 20 mins. We have some papers to steal.”

. . .

“Slow down, Namjoon,” you whoop, as the two of you run off into the night, clad in hats and scarves in the winter chill.

You grab the last stack of newspapers from the Mins’ front porch, and jog for your life, meeting Namjoon in front of his car parked down the street.

You throw the papers in the trunk, slamming it shut before you jump into the backseat, along with Namjoon, the both of you ducking your heads to avoid arousing any suspicion.

“I’m pretty sure we’re gonna get the paperboy fired from his job,” Namjoon chuckles, and the two of you collapse into a fit of giggles at the exhilarating run you’d just gone on in the early hours of the morning.

“I think we got all of them,” you muse, opening up one of the papers to see Namjoon’s smiling face greet you on the front page along with your awestruck one. “I look like a deer in the headlights. You, on the other hand, look pretty good for the front page!”

“Ahhhh,” Namjoon lets out a groan. “That’s probably the only decent photo of me in existence.”

“Why do you do that?” you question, causing Namjoon to shift uncomfortably in his seat. “You’re not ugly, Namjoon. I know for a fact there’d be so many girls who are into you.”

“You should give up writing texts for Jaehyun, and put yourself out there!” you say enthusiastically, your face lighting up at the idea of Namjoon finally finding the love he deserved.

“I don’t think that’s going to work out,” Namjoon mumbles, looking out the window.

“Why not? Namjoon, you’re smart, sweet, hard-working, in love with your family, and not to mention, built! Tell me what girl wouldn’t want you!” you give him a playful tap on his shoulder.

Scowling, he shrugs his arm away, sighing deeply as if he’s lost in thought.

“It’s not going to work,because I’ve tried it all, okay? I’ve tried messaging other girls, but I don’t even want to pursue anything with them, because there’s only one woman I want. And I fucked it all up with her.”

Your face blanches at his admission. Surely, he couldn’t be talking about who you thought he was talking about. Heart racing, you try to open your mouth to respond to his admission, but no words come out.

“Namjoon, who are you talking about?” you whisper softly, but sternly. “Tell me, please.”

“I lied when I said I wanted to help Jaehyun get you,” he said. “I’ve always liked you, ___. Ever since high school. And when I was sitting with him that day and your picture came up, all I could think about was how much you’d changed, how cool and confident you seemed, and how much I wanted to talk to you again.”

“So I played it off as me helping Jaehyun,” he continues, taking in the sight of your furrowed brows. “I thought that, maybe if you saw the texts, and fell for the guy behind them, and not just Jaehyun’s profile full of workout selfies, that maybe you’d consider giving a nerd like me a chance.”

“I don’t understand,” you breathe out. “Why would you tell me this now? You had so many chances to say something, Namjoon.”

“I don’t expect you to respond to me,” Namjoon sighs. “That would be ridiculous, considering how much I’ve lied to you and how much I’ve made you sacrifice for me. I just wanted to stop the lies, and be honest with myself, and with you for once.”

Tears prick your lids as you sit there and ponder Namjoon’s confession. A funny feeling blooms in your chest, and suddenly, you feel as though a thousand butterflies have taken up residence inside of you, flitting their tiny wings and sending tiny shivers throughout your body.

Before you can speak, Namjoon lumbers over the console and jumps into the front seat, firing up the engine.

“Cmon,” he nods to you in the back. “I’ll drive you home. You have a date with Jaehyun, remember?”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The quiet din of the chatter from the steakhouse patrons echoes in the background as you sit and listen to Jaehyun drone on about his latest workout routine. Before, you’d found him so riveting, unable to tear your eyes away from his angular jaw and tousled hair. Now, when you look at him, all you can see are crooked glasses, and the glimpse of two deep dimples poking out from his cheeks.

Namjoon’s confession had been sitting with you ever since the other night. Namjoon had done so much wrong, had lied to you countless times, but why did your relationship with him feel more true than anything else you’d ever experienced in your life? All the texts you’d exchanged beforehand, the warm smiles and knowing looks from hanging with his eccentric family, the laughs as the moments you shared painted vivid pictures in your memory, cementing themselves in your mind like pictures on the pages of a scrapbook.

Your mind wanders back to a few hours ago, when Namjoon caught you in the middle of leaving for your date with Jaehyun. The air between the two of you had been awkward, yet Namjoon had quelled the frigidity with a smile, remarking that you looked perfect, and that Jaehyun was “one lucky man”.

Sitting with Jaehyun, you’d always considered yourself the lucky one, capturing the attention of your high school’s former “it boy”, or who you thought would have been the man of your dreams. Now, it all felt like a devastating lie, not unlike the one you were caught up in with Namjoon.

Jaehyun was wonderful, spectacular even, but he wasn’t the one for you.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The dawn light filters into the basement, and you open your eyes to see Namjoon curled up in a pile of blankets on the floor, snoring away. Smiling, you think back on your revelation from last night.

Today, the Kims were making a trip to the nursing home again. Halmeoni had roped the residents into accepting a class on online dating in their old age, taught by both you and Namjoon, her so-called experts. Today was also the day you decided to confess your feelings to Namjoon, to let him know that somewhere down the line in this comedy of errors, you’d fallen for him too.

You’d never seen a group of older people so enthused about putting themselves out there, bouncing ideas off of each other about what to put in their profiles, chattering loudly amongst themselves. You think back to the article you’d promised Ji-Hoon, and your brain lights up at the thought of finally abandoning your search for love, and instead showcasing these residents and their quests.

Looking over at Namjoon, you see a tick in his jaw at the sight of all the residents, and he lets out a deep sigh.

“Okay, everyone, let’s all calm down,” his voice booms out, creating a hush amongst the crowd.

“I get that you’re all excited,” he begins. “I really do. You want to put your best foot forward. All of you have lived such full, vibrant lives, with so many interesting stories to tell. But then the insecurities creep in. So you tweak your story a little bit. Still you, just a shinier version. And you keep going, until the real you, which was probably amazing to begin with, is unrecognizable.”

Namjoon turns to look at you, and you see him swallow as the faint glimmer of tears coats his eyelashes.

“I think we all forget though,” he chokes out. “That on the other side of the lie, there’s a real person. Falling in love with a version of you that doesn’t exist. And that’s not fair to either of you, because for them, it’ll end in disappointment. And for you, it’ll end in heartbreak. If I’ve learned anything from my relationship with ___, it’s that love doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be honest.”

You feel your heart drop in your chest as Namjoon turns his face away from the crowd, looking out the window amidst the boisterous applause. Stepping towards him, you reach for his hand, ready to give him the present you’d gotten, only for him to excuse himself, saying he has to step outside to speak to his parents.

Head spinning, you indulge Mrs. Khan’s inquiries for a few brief moments about which selfies are the best to put on her profile.

“I’m sorry,” you put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “I have to step out for a moment.”

Making your way to the doorway, you conceal yourself from Namjoon’s view, as he’s deep in conversation with his very flustered parents. Mrs. Kim’s eyes are red, like she’s been crying, and Mr. Kim wraps a sympathetic arm around her shoulders.

Listening in, you catch winds of “I’m sorry I lied”, to “I was only trying to help ___ get Jaehyun” and “I know you’re disappointed”. To your horror, you look up at the most incorrect time to see Seokjin glaring daggers at you from the staircase. And that’s when your face blanches in horror. He knows. They all know. Namjoon told them everything.

Bile rises up in your stomach as you feel vomit rise up in the back of your throat. Namjoon had taken the fall for you once again. You think back to how you could have easily avoided this mess by confessing to him sooner, making sure that he didn’t have to out himself to his parents like this, with only the bitter sting of disappointment and a broken relationship in his wake.

You feel a pair of eyes on yours, and look to see Namjoon staring at you in the doorway. His parents and Jin have both retreated into the main room. Looking at his guilty face, you feel tears seeping down your face, shaking your head as you turn on your heels and run out the front door.

Namjoon wants to run after you, to hug your shaking body and wipe your tears away, but he knows he doesn’t have a right to anymore. His eyes catch the glint of sparkly wrapping paper on the floor, and he drops to his knees to examine the gift that had fallen out of your hands, addressed to him.

Tearing away the crinkly paper, his eyes fall on a candle, a note attached to it.

Dear Namjoon,

A passion whose flame fails to be fanned eventually burns out. You are the brightest light I’ve ever met. Please don’t be afraid to be you.

Love (I guess I mean this literally),

____

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

New Year’s Eve

Waiting for the fireworks was always the hardest part. Your parents had gone to sleep long ago, claiming they were too old to see the promise of what a New Year brought.

Since the nursing home debacle, you’d made some sort of progress in terms of getting your life together. Realizing you couldn’t keep chasing after the promise of love to provide fulfillment, you’d reached out to Jaehyun, telling him you enjoyed your time together, but unfortunately, you didn’t feel the same way. You’d also come clean to your parents about the entire Namjoon situation. While they had been shocked, and slightly upset, your mother had pulled your head into her lap and combed your hair as you cried. She’d told you to find him again and tell him about your feelings, but you didn’t know if you could stomach hurting him anymore.

Pulling up your laptop, you see an email from Ji-Hoon, which causes you to roll your eyes. Of course your boss would be on your case during a worldwide holiday. Opening it, you read over his threat.

____,

Christmas has come and gone, and no article! I’ll be seeing you in my office when you come back.

Sighing deeply, you make a vow to yourself once you got back to the city, you’d stand up to Ji-Hoon, telling him you were tired of writing about dating, and that you wanted to prove yourself as a real journalist. You’d had enough of going along with other people’s plans for you, deciding to take charge of your life.

Unfortunately, that also meant deleting CheckMate from your phone. Before you’d gotten rid of the app for good, you’d paused upon seeing there was one new profile in your area. Opening it up, you’re greeted with Namjoon’s smiling face in various photos, from him riding his bike to hugging a puppy. You break out into a grin at the caption underneath.

Looking for someone who can see me for who I am.

A knock on the door interrupts your musing, and you furrow your brow. Who could be here at this hour?

Twisting the doorknob, you gasp as you’re met with the sight of Namjoon, decked out in a cosy sweater and scarf, a beanie on top of his messy hair. He smiles at you, and that’s when you realize he’s holding something in his hands. They look to be giant poster boards of some sort.

The reference isn’t lost on you as your heart begins to race, and you give him a slight nod, urging him to move forward.

Namjoon flips over the first card.

I’ve spent my entire life trying to be the perfect guy, hoping to catch the attention of the most perfect girl.

You feel your face heat up as he changes over the cards, your heartbeat continuing to pound in your ears.

But there’s perfect, and then there’s me.

A sad smile crosses your face as you read the card, but you look up, and Namjoon lets out a chuckle.

Most people want someone to read the Sunday newspaper with. I want someone who steals it with me on a Saturday night.

A giggle escapes your lips, and Namjoon’s smile grows wider, eyes turning into half moon crescents.

So can you ever forgive me? For taking so long to realize that it’s you, I love, actually?

You don’t even wait for Namjoon to drop the last card before you’re bounding down the steps, tackling him into the snow and crashing your lips onto his. You feel Namjoon let out a small groan, wrapping his arms around you to push you closer into his chest.

As you break apart, the two of you exchange shy smiles, faces heating as you stare into each other’s eyes.

“I got your gift,” Namjoon whispers softly, pausing to press a kiss to your nose, which has become chapped and red from the cold.

“Until I read that tiny note,” he says, breathing fogging in the winter air. “I was so prepared for this whole thing to be a sour memory, another thing that I let my insecurities ruin for me.”

“But I thought more about it,” he says, “And I realized that you, ___, you taught me how to be brave. How to make daring, and sometimes stupid decisions, but to never be afraid of going out on a limb and expressing myself.”

“So, I want to give this a shot,” he declares. “I told my dad about my candle-making business. And, he didn’t think I was weird for it! I got a loan from him, and I’m moving to the city next month.”

He beams, and your eyes widen in surprise. Gazingly tenderly at him, you brush the messy strands of hair.

“Love stories for me have always had bad endings,” you respond. “But I’m excited for this one to be a new beginning.”

Throwing your arms around him, the two of you stay there, holding each other for who knows how many moments, until the first firecracker lights up the sky.

“Happy New Year, ___,” Namjoon says softly. “Here’s to being us.”

Taking your hand in his you, lay your head on his chest, looking up at the spectacle that signals the promise of new hope.

“Here’s to us.”

If you sprint, the 3 of you will make it to your morning chemistry lab on time. But judging by the fact that Taehyung is still bundled underneath the covers in his room and refusing to move, it’s unlikely that any of you will make it there at all today. 

“You’re telling me that you’ve put up with this for more than 20 years now?” Jimin questions, his arms outstretched and pointing towards Taehyung’s door. His snores fill the entire apartment, and you can’t help but chuckle at the disgusted look on Jimin’s face. 

You have put up with it for more than 20 years now. At first, it was forced. The cliche of “our moms are best friends and got pregnant at the same time and live in the houses next door to one another” was how you first met Taehyung. Your mom decided that instead of daycare, you would spend your days at Taehyung’s with his grandma. It became very very apparent to you at first that you and Taehyung were not going to get along. He wanted to paint all day while you wanted to spend your days running around outside. But somewhere along the lines, you and Taehyung became inseparable. Maybe it’s because of the fact that you’ve gone to the same school since Kindergarten, or because of that one time that Taehyung offered you his ice cream cone when you dropped yours and cried at the playground. 

That made it a no brainer to choose to live with him during college instead of in a cramped, overpriced dorm room. It wasn’t too much of an adjustment - you went from having to walk a minute to Taehyung’s family home, say hi to his mom to the kitchen, and then go drag him out of bed to now just having to walk a couple steps and drag him out of bed. Efficiency, you chime in your head when you think about the extra sleep you get to have now.

You were all about the college experience - parties, football games, mixers, but you figured it was probably best to skip the whole “try to find a roommate you like and then realize that you hate them and scramble to find a new place.” 

“20 long years, it feels like sometimes” you mutter as you roll your eyes in frustration. You don’t even wait to ask Jimin if he wants to come inside, instead just opting to open the door wider so he can enter. He quickly takes up his regular morning position sitting at your kitchen table, watching as you turn the coffee pot on for him. 

“One day we should just leave without him, yknow. Professor Min is going to fail us at some point if we keep missing lab.” 

Jimin’s not as used to Taehyung’s morning antics as you are. They first met last year in an introductory English class and were instantly attached at the hip after a group project. When they’re too drunk and someone mentions Shakespeare they launch into a dramatic retelling of the Macbeth (Jimin plays at least 3 rolls at once). 

It’s 8:10 now, and all hope of making it to the lab is gone. Even if you leave now, there’s no way that you’ll have enough time to finish the reaction and get a final product. 

You instead pull out one of the only two meals you can make. The sound of the dry pasta shaking catches Jimin’s attention away from his phone. 

“It’s a little early for processed cheese, Y/N” Jimin jokes. He still gets up to help you boil the water, though. 

You and Jimin talk about your weekend plans - skateboarding for him, a good book for you.  The chatter continues while you both work together to make your comfort meal. 

“Kraft Dinner, mmm” are the first words that come out of Taehyung’s mouth when he steps out of his room.

Without coordination, you and Jimin both reach for the barely cooked noodles and throw them at the late riser. 

Once he apologizes for making you all miss lab AGAIN and promises it won’t happen again (spoiler alert: it will), you assign Taehyung to sauce duty and send him away. 

“What’s everyone’s plan for Christmas” Taehyung says in between a thank you he whispers to you as he grabs a bowl for food. 

You know Taehyung is just dying to tell you both the details of  his family’s upcoming Hawai’i vacation, so you graciously ask him what his plans are once you tell them that you’ll be spending it the same as usual with your family. However, instead of going on about the luau he’s planning to go to, surprisingly still talks about you.

“Y/N is very particular about her Christmas plans” Taehyung says with his mouthful. You groan and reach over to squish his cheeks. Your cheeks turn red as you start to babble about how it’s just your favorite holiday. You weren’t particular, you just like to celebrate - a difference you made very clear. 

“It’s gonna be a good Christmas, my horoscope told me so” Taehyung proclaims. He’s a true Capricorn. 

You and Jimin throw more macaroni at him. 

“I’ll give you the door code, Jimin will probably still be asleep so he won’t notice if you slip in and out” Taehyung reassures you over the phone. 

You’re outside Jimin’s door, silent as a ninja while Taehyung walks you through how to get into the older boy’s apartment. You forgot your wallet at Jimin’s, and if you had any hopes of buying groceries today you needed to grab it before you got too comfortable on the couch and decided that instant ramen was a nutritious enough meal. The snow falling outside only decreased your motivation to shop, but Taehyung bribes you over the phone with a movie marathon once you come home if you buy some microwave popcorn. 

The 10 years of dance training you had came in handy as you tiptoed your way through the kitchen, sneaking around like a spy while you looked for the small pink wallet. You had the shaving cream piled high in your hands as the mop of black hair came into your vision. Jimin had his back to you and was mid pouring milk into what looked like coffee. You manage to walk all the way up to him without him noticing your presence. Your wallet is right beside him, so you figure it’s best to tap him on the shoulder to let him know that you’re there. 

“Hey J- AH!” You shouted jumping back once the figure turned around. 

Instead of being met with the angry look of Park Jimin, there was another black-haired boy who stood in front of you with an equally scared look on his face.

He also screamed once he took in the fact that you were not Park Jimin, and that a girl had somehow sneaked into their apartment presumably only to murder them. 

“Who are you? This is Park Jimin’s apartment!” You interrogated pointedly with a finger to the intruder’s chest. Your chest was rising heavily with your anger as your nostrils flared.

The person’s already large eyes widened as he sputtered before retaliating at your words. “You’re asking me that?? I should be asking you that!! I live here” He emphasized, waving his arms around frantically in exasperation. 

The back and forth squabble continued endlessly, each of you becoming more read in the face as the conversation carried on. Arms were flailing around while the coffee on the counter cooled to room temperature. 

“JIMIN - who is this??” You both scream from the kitchen towards the closed door of Jimin’s bedroom. You’re holding a wooden spoon as a defense against the stranger while he’s armed with the spoon he was stirring his coffee with. If someone were to see you, they’d probably think that you were a couple of children play fighting. 

In true Jimin fashion, he saunters out lazily in sweatpants and a black t-shirt. His wolverine-reminiscent hair and the way that he is rubbing his eyes give away the fact that he most likely just rolled out of bed. Jimin only managed a couple steps out of his room before the sight in front of him took the words out of his mouth. 

His brain may be slow to start working in the mornings, but he could easily piece together what happened based on the way both of you looked like you had steam coming out of your ears. Both of you were giving Jimin a look that silently said who the fuck is this psycho?? And the more Jimin realized what was going on, the more that laughter seemed to bubble up inside him. He tried his best to hold it in till his cheeks were also turning red to match yours, but once he started laughing, he just couldn’t stop. 

At the sight of Jimin finding joy in your misery, you huffed and put your hands on your hips, the taller man beside you also stomping his foot in irritation. You each called out his name irritatingly while Jimin was still doubled over in laughter. 

“Y/N, I see you’ve met my brother Jungkook” Jimin finally said between bouts of laughter, grinning from ear to ear. 

You aren’t kidding when you tell Jimin that Jungkook is giving him a run for his money in the friend department.

At first you were nervous. You were never one to dwell on first impressions, but when your first impression is what happened with Jungkook (ie. you yelling at him for being in his own apartment), you couldn’t help but feel that things started off on a bad note. 

As it turns out, Jungkook was a freshman at your college too - he was living in the first year dorms, but when they had to evacuate everyone because of a termite infestation he figured it was easiest to mooch off his older brother and live in Jimin’s apartment. When Jungkook told the story, Jimin tried to look annoyed, especially as he complained about how Jungkook kept him up all night with his gaming and how he owns way too many pairs of shoes which clutter up his doorway. But you can see in the way that he looks at him that Jimin is really glad to spend time with his younger brother. 

You and Jungkook quickly got along because of your shared love for teasing Jimin. Anytime you came over Jungkook would tell the best childhood stories of Jimin’s adventures. Turns out, Jimin had gone through many phases - he wanted to be an astronaut, a rock band singer, and chef, and a fashion designer all before age 10. When Jungkook shows you the photo of Jimin with pink streaks in his hair you can’t help but double over laughing while Jimin grumbles about how he could definitely pull that look off now.  

Jungkook was also a nursing major, you two had lots to chat about there as well. “You’re the best” Jungkook praises when you tell him all the professors to avoid and where to buy second hand scrubs for clinicians so you’re not breaking the bank of the University’s branded FIGS sets. You found yourself at Jimin’s place more and more - study sessions with Jungkook turning into movie nights with the 3 of you or Mario kart competitions that you could never win. 

“Listen to your hyung, Jungkook. I want my best friend back!!” Jimin whines with his arms crossed from the doorway of his younger brother’s room. He puts on his best pouty face as he watches you two be completely engrossed in a game of Overwatch. Jungkook doesn’t acknowledge his brother, choosing to give him the middle finger for interrupting him in what Jimin knows is an important part of the game, You, on the other hand, turn and give him a pouty look that says “I’m sorry” while gesturing with your hands that it’ll only be another 5 minutes. He still stands in the doorway as he waits, his eyes obviously focused on the ticking of the watch on his wrists. 

“Best friend, huh?” You tease after you’re done, your mind still stuck on Jimin’s last words. “Do I get to call Taehyung and let him know that he’s being replaced?” You grin with your headset still over your ears as you turn to look at him.

Jimin shoots you a bashful smile, it’s only once you reply that he’s one of your best friends too that he lets out a laugh. 

“Sleep more than you study, study more than you party, party as much as possible”. Taehyung yells into your closed bedroom door. ‘

You groan as you hear Taehyung repeat his mantra over and over while he pregames in the living room. He has a couple friends over and there’s a basketball game playing on the TV, but the only voices you can pick out are his, Jimin’s and Jungkook’s. 

Once you hear them start to organize themselves into UBER’s, you hear Taehyung knock on your bedroom door.

“I’m not coming with you, Tae!” You already predicted his question and decided to save him the trouble of wasting a question. 

Taehyung shakes his head as he places his hands on his hips before walking over to you. He’s quick to shut the screen of your laptop to get your full attention. 

“Tae, I was working on my research paper.” You groan, trying to pry the screen open from under his hold. 

“Bullshit, Y/N. You can’t convince me that you weren’t watching just watching Modern Family again” 

Your face turns red at his words. Of course Taehyung knows you well enough to know what you’re doing. You counter that you just want a quiet night in - your comfort TV show, some ramen, a hot chocolate maybe ( not at the same time, of course). 

“Y’know, it’s a holiday party” Taehyung chides as he flaunts a tinsel ribbon around his neck.

“It’s November 1st” you reply dryly, your eyebrows raised. You loved the holiday but it felt like a little overkill that at the first sight of colder weather everything turned festive. Taehyung can see that you’re not going to back down from your cozy night in plans that easily, but he’s just as stubborn as you are.

“Besides, this is the first time we’re not going to be spending Christmas together”

Damn it, he knows how to get to you. 

You and Taehyung had spent Christmas together for as long as you could remember. When you were 5, you cried when Taehyung broke the barbie doll you had been begging for Santa to get you only minutes after you opened the present. He felt indebted to you until you were seven and broke the Beyblade he was playing with, so you were at least even on that front. Christmas without Taehyung would just not be Christmas at all, so when he told you that his family has planned to go to Hawaii while yours was staying home, it did break both of your hearts a little. 

“And there’s that dress you bought at the mall with Jimin and I that you still haven’t gotten a chance to wear, and your next exam isn’t for 2 weeks , AND….” Taehyung continues. The list goes on and on as Taehyung pleads his case. He looks a lot more like a lawyer than a fine arts student right now, but either way, Taehyung is extremely persuasive. He even pulls out the dress from your closet, showing you the way the glitter shines in the light. You still remember the day you bought it. 

“It’s too much right?” You asked, stepping out of the change room. You rub your hands down the fabric to try to get it to stay in one place, and the way you refuse to look up from the floor shows how nervous you are. 

Taehyung has an eye for fashion so he’s a common companion to your shopping trips. He gets up to walk a circle around you, making comments about the way the red tone of the dress makes your skin pop. Jimin however, only came along because it was too cold outside to do anything else. He’s still frozen in his seat, a look that you can only assume is boredom paints his expression while he scrolls aimlessly on his phone.

“It looks great Y/N, it seriously fits you like a glove.” Taehyung goes on to talk about how the style of dress is timeless and will work for formal and casual occasions. “Jimin, what do you think?” 

Your eyes now turn to the black-haired boy on the couch. You notice that his jaw is slightly open and he’s not blankly staring into the distance, he’s staring at you. His pupils are dilated but instead of his eyes scanning over your figure, they’re glued straight on your own face, your eyes meeting each other’s.

“It’s - really good. It’s beautiful, Y/N” Jimin says softly. 

The memory of the dress shopping experience made you smile. Taehyung fists pumps in victory as you take the dress from his hold. 

“Fine, but you’re gonna need to hand me 2 shots to catch up to you” you huff as you shove him out of your room so you can change. 

The fall air brings a chill on your skin as you sit on the back porch of the party house. The clamour of parties is always fun in moderation, but after losing 4 games of beer pong in a row to Jimin and Jungkook, you decide that it’s probably best to step away from the antics for a bit if you wanted to be able to stand up straight at the end of the night. You hate to prove Taehyung right, but you’re happy he dragged you here. 

There’s not a single other person outside, and for a second you wonder if you’re not allowed to be out here. You can’t be bothered to care - it’s not like you dangling your feet over the edge of the porch is causing any damage. 

“You’re going to catch a cold” a voice calls out to you.  You can’t see his face yet, but you already know who it is. 

“Here comes the beer pong champ” you joke as you swirl the drink in your hand. As soon as November 1st passed, Seonghwa had decided that regular jungle juice now needed to be replaced with “festive” jungle juice. The peppermint liqueur mixed with tequila left an uncomfortably bitter taste in your mouth, something Jimin could spot from a mile away as he made his way to you outside. 

“C’mon, let’s switch” Jimin volunteered as he plucked the red solo cup out of your hands and replaced it with his own, nudging your shoulder in the process as he sat down next to you. He drank yours with ease, but you let out a more disgusted groan as you took a sip of Jimin’s cup. 

“Eggnog, really Jimin? This stuff is gross” you emphasize with a shake of your head. 

“It’s actually eggnog with extra rum, Y/N, I’m a man with class” Jimin joked with a flourish as he took his cup back from you. He also peels off the jacket he’s wearing, laying it gently around your bare shoulders to keep you warm. Jimin loves the dress, but he knows it’s not worth you catching a cold over.

For a while, you and Jimin just sit in silence. It’s peaceful though, comforting even. You both take sips of your drink, staring at the all too large yard while wondering how the hell Seonghwa and Hongjoong could afford the rent on this place as a couple of college kids. The sound of Taehyung’s laughter somehow still hits your ears even though he’s in the basement playing beer pong, and the dissonance of the bass pounding through the wood of the porch with the peace of the outdoors brings a certain harmony to the space. 

“Are you ever scared?” Jimin whispers. 

You turn to look at him - he hasn’t moved a muscle, still swirling his eggnog in a solo cup. 

“Scared of what?” 

“The present, the future, what life is gonna be like 20 years from now. Hell - I don’t have a clue about what I’m gonna do when college is done. I don’t even think I have a dream for what I want to be in the future.”

Jimin sighed when he realized his small explanation had turned into almost a full blown tangent. You can tell by the look on his face that this is completely serious to him, that he’s not just making small talk party conversations. 

“When Taehyung first introduced me to you and you showed up 5 minutes early to the first time we met at that cafe, I knew you were organized. And then I saw the running grocery shopping list you keep on your fridge in the apartment, and then I realized you were super organized. “ Jimin paused to look over at you. “So you, miss organized, I am sure you have a plan for everything.”

You took a larger gulp of your red liquid courage before replying to the starry-eyed boy beside you. 

“I, um, I may be organized, but that’s in everything except the future. Literally in my first week of college I figured out that I wanted to end up working in film and TV as a videographer” 

“But you’re - “

“A nursing major, I know” you said with a half-hearted chuckle. You continued on after a bated breath. 

You wrung your palms on your jeans as you stared back out into the distance. “So yeah - even though I know what I want, it’s scary to think of chasing my dreams.”

For a moment, the bass of the party music took over the silence between you both. It seems that Seonghwa busted out the karaoke machine since an all too festive performance of Gee by Girls Generation was taking place, Taehyun and Soobin making the entire party fall victim to their charms.

“You’re great  - I mean you’d be a great videographer Y/N, you should do it” Jimin said sincerely as he looked you in your eyes. You give him a soft smile of acknowledgment before turning back to the vast sky in front of you. 

You were always jealous of the stars. They knew exactly what they had to do and did the exact same thing every day. They shine every night until they burn out and they’re done. It would be nice, in some ways, to wake up each day and know exactly what you’re going to do. But the truth is, you have no clue. But as you look over at Jimin, who is now trying to convince you that the random cluster of stars in front of you is Ursa Major, you’re glad that he has no clue either. 

You steal a sip of Jimin’s eggnog again. It still tastes disgusting. 

You read the words across your screen twice before letting out a shriek that had Taehyung flying into your bedroom. 

“Are you okay?!” Taehyung shrieked as he saw you hunched over in your bed, your face frozen in disbelief. 

“I can’t - I can’t go home Tae” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady and keep your tears at bay.

“You can’t go home? Oh, you can’t go home” Taehyung thinks out loud as he pieces together the meaning of your words. “Oh Y/N…” Taehyung whispered as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. “What happened?”

You took a shakier breath as you turned the computer screen towards him. The news article on the screen showed the blizzard that happened overnight in your hometown, making the roads untouchable for at least the next weekend. There was no way you could make it home for Christmas. Messages from your family group chat are lighting up the top right corner as your family is also dealing with the news of you not being able to get home at the same time.

“Parks of living in a small town I guess” you whimpered as a few tears escaped your eyes. Soon, you couldn’t stop the waterfall from your eyes. It felt silly, there were so many bigger problems in the world, but going home for Christmas meant everything to you. No matter what happened each year, how busy everyone was, how far away everyone was, every member of your family made it home for Christmas each year. Except for you this year, apparently. Thinking of how you were going to break the news to your mom made it feel like your heart was breaking all over again. 

“Can I drive you? Book you a flight? Anything really?” Taehyung questioned, feeling his own heart breaking at the sight of his best friend being so upset. Taehyung would’ve been in the same predicament as you if his family hadn’t decided to take a family trip to Hawaii for Christmas this year. “I’ll stay if you want me to” Taehyung adds. 

You shook your head at him, explaining how unless teleporting was actually possible, there was no way that you could make your way into the town at all. It was like fate was playing cruel tricks on you - you would usually already be in your childhood bedroom by now, but your finals ended later than usual, leaving you with no option but to drive down at the last possible moment before Christmas. It was a frustrating end to a frustrating year - it felt perfectly in line with the rest of your year that Christmas wouldn’t work out for you too.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N” Taehyung said as he looked at you. You let yourself be enveloped in his hug for a moment as you nod into his chest, telling him he has nothing to be sorry for.

“We’re really sorry too, Y/N” two voices called out to you from the doorway. 

Jimin and Jungkook stand watching you from the entryway, PS5 controllers in their hands that are obvious remnants of a gaming marathon they were having with Taehyung in the living room. You didn’t even realize that the brothers were there. 

The controllers are quickly thrown to the side as you invite the boys into your room. Taehyung quickly becomes the butt of the joke as Jungkook and Jimin starts telling you about the stupid mistakes he made while he was playing Super Smash Bros. They let you pick something to watch to get your mind off of things, which is rare given the chokehold that Taehyung has on the remote. 

It’s Doom at Your Service that you end up settling on. Jungkook has never watched it with you three so it’s up to you to catch him up on what he’s missed in the kdrama so far. His eyes are wide as he takes in the twists and turns of the storyline.

“I’m so lucky to be with my 4 favorite boys” you say sincerely as you eat the microwave popcorn that Jimin made for you all. Slowly the gears in each of the boys’ heads start to turn as they do the mental math and realize there’s only 3 of them sitting on the couch, looking around for the 4th boy in question.

“yeah, you, Jimin, Jungkook, and Seo In-Guk” you joke with a smile as you point to the handsome boy on TV.

Jungkook throws a piece of popcorn at your face when you can’t stop laughing.

December 25th usually had a little more flair in your life. Usually, once the clock struck 12 wrapping paper would be flying around your living room, your parents following diligently with a garbage bag as they watched you open gifts with your extended family. 

Instead, you watched as the clock hit 00:00 under your covers. You took in the silence in your bedroom as you realized just how lonely you were. If you closed your eyes tight enough you could almost imagine your family bursting through your front door, but you knew it was nothing more than a figment of your imagination. A frown started to take residence on your face as the reality of your situation started to settle in. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N” you whispered to yourself as you stared outside the window.

You could’ve slept all day, and with the way that the sunlight was streaming in from your bedroom window, it was very likely that you slept through at least part of it. If you had more notice that you were going to be staying in the apartment, you would have at least bought yourself a pity gift, a microwave turkey dinner for one, anything really. 

A crash from outside your door made you shake. Great, as if being in the apartment on Christmas wasn’t bad enough, having someone breaking into your house was definitely the icing on the cake. You armed yourself with the scariest thing you had in your room (a curling iron) and began to tiptoe out of the room. You took a couple deep breaths before wedging the door open so you could peer into the living area. 

The view that you had made you accidentally drop your curling iron to the ground in surprise. 

“Merry Christmas?” Jimin chuckled, rubbing at his forearms nervously.  You gasped as you took in the room around you. 

The room had been covered in twinkly Christmas lights from head to toe. There were stockings hung from the wall, tinsel all around, and a gorgeous mini Christmas tree covered in ornaments. 

And of course, the man who did it all stood in the middle, a Christmas sweater that said “Santa Claws” with a cat on it adorning his chest. Jimin had the cutest reindeer ears on his head, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the gigantic smile on his face. He raised his eyebrows playfully as his eyes gestured to the matching sweater in his hand that said “Santa paws” with a dog on it, presumably for you. 

You were truly struck speechless, but you had no idea how to express this in words. Nobody, ever, had done something like this for you. Your eyes glimmered with tears as you looked at Jimin. 

“Jimin, I - , I don’t even know what to say.” 

The glowing boy took a step towards you. 

“I know it's not the handmade ornaments you have at home but…” Jimin sheepishly stared down at his wiggling toes while waiting for your response. 

You couldn’t stop a couple of tears from escaping from your eyes as you said “it’s perfect”. 

“Are you… crying? I didn’t mean to make you cry - oh my god I’m sorry Y/N.”  You could hear the panic in Jimin’s voice as he watched you start to break down.

Elf playing on the TV, cookies on the table, a star on top of a tree that does not seem like it would fit through your apartment door: Jimin had somehow created your own Christmas wonderland, and it was everything that you didn’t know you needed. You have no clue how Jimin even found out exactly what your Christmas celebrations were like (the answer, he texted Taehyung to find out, but they would never let you find that out). 

“Happy tears, Chim. Really happy tears” you mentioned with a smile painted across your face, the nickname flowing freely from your lips. 

Jimin gives you a moment to wander around the space, making sure to chime in with all the details on the decorations he chose. When you find out that Jimin called Taehyung to ask whether you would like red or gold ornaments better and Taehyung promptly told Jimin to fuck off because it was 4am in Hawaii time and you would like either of them, you laugh but also swoon over Jimin’s consideration.  It’s only once you make your way to the kitchen that Jimin explains your first activity of the night - the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies are laid out on the counter and Jimin is sharing his very special recipe with you in return for having you help in the kitchen.

“I thought you had a flight home last night?” You say inquisitively as you pick at the cookie dough that was on the counter. You’re sure eating raw cookie batter wasn’t exactly the help that Jimin seemed to have in mind when he planned to do this with you, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he’s focused on rolling out the dough, 

Jimin froze for a second before he uttered his reply. “They canceled my flight because of the weather.” Jimin gestured to the scene outside your window with the snow fluttering around outside.  “It was triple the price to rebook a new last minute flight and I was only planning to be there for 2 days anyways so it just wasn’t worth it anymore, my parents understood.”

You nodded in understanding as you handed him another spoonful of cookie dough to put on the baking tray. He’s lying, at least partially, but you don’t notice as you’re too caught up in the Christmas glee. The truth was that the look on your face when you realized you were going to be spending Christmas alone haunted Jimin, and coupled with the fact that his family wasn’t big on celebrating and he could move his flight home to be for his mom’s birthday instead, it seemed more than logical for him to do so. 

Jimin sings as he starts to preheat the oven. It’s a habit he picked up from his mom, who always belts a tune while she sings around the kitchen. It’s usually more of a small hum, a mumble that other people can't hear, but with the way Jimin gets caught up in the Christmas glee he accidentally starts to belt out some adlibs to All I want for Christmas is you. 

“What are you staring at?” Jimin wonders, watching the zoned out look on your face. 

“Your voice - it’s um, it’s really nice” You blush as you make the delicate confessions, the redness on your cheeks giving away your embarrassment. 

Jimin smiled, crinkling his eyes as he stared at you. He mumbled a small thank you. Compliments were few and far between in your friend group (you chose to show the love through well placed humor instead), so the comment brought even more joy to Jimin’s face. 

Much to your delight, Jimin kept singing as he worked next to you on the cookies. You smiled at the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration while he used a tree-shaped cookie cutter that you didn’t even know that you owned. You and Jimin had quickly fallen into a very domestic routine - It was a sharp change from how you were planning on spending your Christmas just mere hours earlier. 

All of a sudden, a cloud of white obscures your vision. As the powder landed on your face, you purse your lips to get the taste of it off of your tongue. You cough and sputter as you look at the boy across from you.

“I had to knock you out of your daydream somehow.” Jimin said as he clapped his hands off, sending more dust clouds out to the air. 

“Oh you’re on, Park Jimin.”

You grabbed the nearest container of flour to you and immediately began your counter attacks on the fluffy haired boy across from you. 

The kitchen is filled with laughter as you and Jimin make a mess of your kitchen. He chases you around the small space, flour flying everywhere. Flour turns to sugar, and then sugar turns to milk, and at some point you and Jimin both end up with the entirety of the cookie ingredients on you.  You both only decide to call a truce once you and Jimin realize that you are the ones who will have to clean up the mess and that the cookies you have in the oven currently are going to burn. 

As the night was beginning to take over, the clock showed you how Christmas was beginning to slip away from you. You wished that you could freeze time and stay in this moment forever.

“I also had one more surprise for you” Jimin says as he approaches you on the couch. You’re happy to be able to see his black hair again as he emerges looking much cleaner than he was like a few minutes ago. However, Jimin looks more nervous, his hands tucked behind his back as he waddles over. You clue in on the fact that Jimin’s holding a gift behind his back and your face immediately gives away your reaction.

 “Oh my gosh you really don’t have to Jimin, I feel so bad that you’ve done so much and I don’t have anything for you.” You almost sound like you’re scolding him for how much he’s doing with the raised tone in your voice. 

“I hope you’ll like it, Y/N”  is all he replies with. 

He’s carrying a box covered in snowman wrapping paper, and while he tells you to close your eyes, he plops the box down in your arms and tells you to open it .  The tag on it still reads “from Jimin, to Y/N”. Jimin seems to be vibrating as he sits next to you and watches the way you peel the wrapping paper back. 

It’s gorgeous. You twirl it in between your fingers to admire the way it glows in the sunlight. The gift reminds you of Jimin - it’s radiant and filled with hope and dreams.

“It’s a film camera because… you’re going to be a great videographer one day, Y/N” Jimin explains. The necklace you’re holding has a film camera charm on it. It’s an Arri Alexa 65, specifically the one that you explained to Jimin is your favorite film camera that they use in Hollywood movies that you hope you get to use one day. It was a small detail, something that you barely remember telling him at that party - but the fact that he still remembers that makes your heart swell. 

“Put it on for me?” You ask, holding out the clasp for him. Jimin quickly nods as he takes the chain from your fingers. It’s only once you sweep your hair to the side is Jimin astutely aware of how close he is to you while putting on the necklace.  He fumbles with the clasp once he gets it around your neck. He can see the way that the hairs on the back of the neck have risen too, and it makes him feel a little more comfortable that he’s not the only one feeling this way.

“It’s beautiful, Jimin.” You whisper as you look down at the pendant. 

“Yeah, really beautiful,” Jimin says as he looks at you. 

And then the air shifts. Like Jimin’s been burned, he quickly moves his hands away from you. “Anyways… eggnog for me, hot chocolate for the lady?” Jimin asks as he jumps off the couch with an extra hop in his step. He’s almost rushing away from you like you’re a burning building as he makes his way to the kitchen. You barely catch his actions as your mind is still fuzzy from Jimin’s closeness to you. You twirl the necklace around your fingers as you watch Jimin carry the two steaming mugs towards you. He had already set up your couch with blankets and a collection of holiday DVD’s, which made it easy for you to settle in while you waited for him. You were already cozy on the couch, so you simply pat the spot next to you for Jimin to join you.

“Drinking hot cocoa by the fireplace, right?” He whispers as he plays a YouTube channel that shows crackling firewood on the screen. 

You nod as you open your arms for him for a hug. It says all the ‘thank you’s” that you can’t put into words. You hope he can tell how thankful you are through the way you’re squeezing him tightly, only murmuring a small thank you into his chest. 

“I’m really sorry you couldn’t be home for Christmas, Y/N” Jimin whispered sincerely as he looked into your eyes. You both were no more than inches away from each other now. It would be so easy to just close that gap, cross that line from friends to more than that. You could feel Jimin’s breath fanning onto your face. The tension starts to build as you see Jimin’s eyes flutter between your eyes and your lips. It’s the perfect moment, arguably. Time seems to have stopped as you both stay frozen in that moment. All that needed to happen was for one of you to take the leap, show some courage and close the gap.

You couldn’t, at least not today. If you were going to do this - it wasn’t going to be on a whim. You were going to think this through, and think really hard. You and Jimin savored your closeness, nobody wanted to break eye contact first. The familiar warm feeling in your stomach started to creep up again. 

You whispered your reply back to him. “It’s okay, Jimin. This is… amazing” you said with wonder in your eyes as you admired your surroundings yet again. “But I’m sorry you’re didn’t get to go home for Christmas either”

Jimin pulled you closer into his chest; he whispers his last words just quietly enough so you barely catch them.  The almost kiss definitely weighs heavy on both of you as you sit in the silence of the holiday music for a moment. 

“I don’t know, this kinda feels like home too.”

You fall asleep right there, with your head on Jimin’s chest. 

You wake up feeling so much lighter. All you needed was a good night’s sleep to reflect on just how magical yesterday was. Park Jimin turned your apartment into a winter wonderland for you. You’ve been dreaming your whole life of having a boy who would do something like that for you, and here he was right in front of you? You want to tell him right now, tell him everything about how you feel, how you should’ve kissed him last night. 

It’s only when you start to get caught up in how you’ll tell him that you realize that it’s quiet, almost too quiet. You’re in your bedroom, back tucked under your sheets. You’re not still on the couch where Jimin’s heartbeat lulled you to sleep. When you start to adjust to your surroundings, you sit up with a jolt, hands gripping the sheets trying to find a warm body next to you. Except it’s cold. There’s not even a wrinkle where there should be someone else. For a second, you think that all of yesterday was a dream. The logical explanation is that you slept for 24 hours and Christmas ceased to exist. Everything looks the exact same as how it was when you went to sleep, except for one thing. 

There’s a note on your bedside table. It’s written on a scrap piece of paper that you can only imagine came from the pile of thrown out lab reports that you still have to bring down to the recycling center. The chicken scratch writing of it clearly shows you that Jimin was its author. 

Had to head out early. Hope you grab some good boxing day deals! 

Okay, so at least you didn’t imagine spending the day with Jimin. Still, the note leaves an ugly feeling in your stomach. Jimin has slept over before, it’s not out of the ordinary, but he usually would wake one of you before he leaves. You settle on sending him a quick text. He’s a quick responder, so it should put your mind at ease. 

You: hey! You disappeared quick - everything ok? Thanks again for yesterday 😊❤️

With that, you get up on your day. When you step out in to the living room, it looks untouched. The tree is gone, the wrapping paper trail you and Jimin had created from his gift nowhere to be found. The hot cocoa mugs are washed, the tinsel is gone. 

It’s like Christmas never happened. 

The silver chain around your neck is the only memory you have of the day. It’s still around your neck. You twirl the charm that lays on your chest between your fingers as you walk around the space. It helps you calm your breathing as you think about what’s happened. Your mind instantly goes to calling Taehyung and explaining what happened, but his last instagram post of him laying on the beach with the caption “most relaxed person ever” makes you think twice. He deserves a break, and you have no reason to freak out. Instead, you push the crazy thoughts away and try to keep going through your day, buying groceries, organizing your closet. 

Your phone stays silent the rest of the day. The message you sent to Jimin isn’t read, let alone replied too. It’s odd, and it makes your phone feel heavy every time you pick it up. 

It’s just one day, Y/N, no need to freak out, you think to yourself at the end of the night. 

But soon one day turns into two days, which turns into seven days, and you’re faced with the distinct possibility that  Park Jimin is ghosting you.

At one point, your worry that Jimin isn’t answering morphs into concern for his health. It builds until you decide that it’s worth bothering Taehyung on his vacation, even though the picture he sent of you drinking a tequila sunrise makes you think twice.  You’re tempted to wander down to his apartment, knock on his door just to see if he’s around. You also think about asking Jungkook, sending him a quick text. He’s at home with his family though, and you don’t want to accidentally cause his family to worry for Jimin for no reason.

You: have you heard from Jimin lately?

Taehyung answers quickly.

Tae: yea, he wished me happy new year

It creates an empty feeling in your chest when you read Taehyung’s response. So Jimin isn’t ignoring everyone, he’s just ignoring you. 

The problem is that you can’t figure out why. 

It’s embarrassing how much of an effect that Jimin has on you. The fact that he left you without a trace seems to weigh heavier on you each day. It’s shameful and you know. You shouldn’t care that much - Jimin wasn’t your boyfriend, there was no reason for you to feel like you had something more with him. 

The note Jimin left you is the last thing that you have of him. The writing seems to be burned into your bedside table now since you haven’t had the heart to move it since Christmas. The more you read it, the more angry it makes you. The note is like something you would send to coworkers when you clock out early, not something you’d say to a girl you almost kissed mere hours before. 

Taehyung is shocked when he comes back from break. He knew Jimin’s plan and was expecting you to be bursting at the seams with joy while recounting the story to him the moment he got in the door. Instead, all Taehyung is met with is silence - the apartment looks wildly untouched, except for the empty cup noodles stacked in the garbage. When he asks you how your break was, all you mutter is “don’t wanna talk about it” 

You’ll give him credit, Taehyung does try his best to support you. He’s known you long enough to know that “it’s all gonna be okay” won’t work for you. He doesn’t pretend to understand how you feel - after all, he was the one who was currently studying for his dream. Instead, he silently comes in and picks up your laundry, having it clean and folded on your untouched desk before you can even wake up from your 4pm nap. He still asks every time he leaves the house if you want to join him, and he doesn’t let the smile fall from his eyes every single time you say no. He sits with you every night on the edge of your bed to tell you about his day despite your consistently flat reactions. Most of all, Taehyung opens the curtains every morning in your room without fail. Even when you won’t say a word to him and simply bury your face further into your comforter, Taehyung lets the light in. Or maybe, he simply is your light.

You don’t notice how hard this probably is on him too. His two best friends in the world are falling apart and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Hell, it might’ve been his meddling that got you both into this situation in the first place. He doesn’t know whether he has to pick sides, whether supporting one of you irrevocably means you’re betraying the other. He cooks for you while ordering delivery for Jimin, goes over to Jimin’s apartment when you’re asleep to check on him, texts you both throughout the day to make sure you’ve eaten meals. Taehyung has one body but his heart wants to be in two places at once. Of course, the people he’d come to for advice about something like this are you and Jimin, and that only rubs salt in the wound for him. 

Just like Taehyung’s struggling, you are too. The new semester doesn’t bring the fresh start that you’re hoping for. Everything still feels old, tired. Your holiday break slump has now morphed into a winter semester slump. 

The one thing you’re thankful for is that you never have to cross paths with Jimin. Well, almost never. Morality and ethics was the last class you’d ever expect to see Jimin in, but it looks like the campus-wide gossip about the class being an easy A got to him as well. It feels ironic that he’s taking the course at all -  to you, it seems like the morally correct thing to do would be to not fall off the face of the earth as soon as something mildly romantic happens with your best friend, but hey what do you know. You can’t hide the vindication you feel when Professor Kwong says something you agree with during class, knowing that Jimin is getting the same lecture. 

The other 99% of the time though, you like to pretend that the dark cloud that is Park Jimin doesn’t exist. You always show up to class only at the minute it begins and bolt out the minute the professor stops talking, leaving no time for any unwelcome small talk opportunities. You sit in the same corner seat at the back of the lecture hall - the chair is partially broken and it looks like it could give out any minute, but the risk is worth it since it hides you from the rest of the class. 

You try to not think about Jimin, let alone look at him during class. Out of sight, out of mind, you repeat to yourself as you take your seat each week. There is still that small part of you that itches to find out how he’s doing, but you can’t bring yourself to look for him amongst the crowd of students. You’ve thought about it and you don’t even know what you’d want to see: if he was happy and normal, that would only add salt to your wound, but if he looked even half as bad as you did, you wouldn’t feel great either. You’d come to the conclusion that finding Jimin would only make things worse. If he wanted to talk to you, he would have weeks ago instead of leaving without a trace. After all, you were only reciprocating his behavior. 

For once, the weather seemed to be showing mercy on you. For the first week of January, you felt like you were living in an icebox (also in part due to you and Taehyung forgetting to pay your utilities bill on time). You had to wear what felt like 1000 layers to go to walk to your classes and then had to immediately shed them the minute you stepped foot into your lecture hall. 

The days continued on: wake up, shower (maybe), go to class (maybe), come home, lay in bed, sleep, and repeat. 

They were all the same until you accidentally broke your routine one day - stopping at the campus coffee shop before coming home since you felt like you could barely keep your eyes open. 

The small coffee shop hadn’t changed much since the last time you were here in freshman year. There were still chips in the wood tables from drunk college students who came in way too late after parties, paintings from the arts students on the wall, and the menu had not changed one bit. If you had a regular drink, if it could even count as that since you’d only been here a handful of times, it would definitely be a hot chocolate. But today, it felt like the words on the menu were taunting you. Hot chocolate reminded you of the handsome way Jimin looked when he carried a mug of it towards you on Christmas day, just moments after you two almost kissed. Note to self: don’t let a boy make you your favorite drink if they’re not gonna stick around. You settle for a green tea instead, hoping the calming effects will somewhat work on you. 

Side quest aside, you begin to head back on your regular, routine route. Instantly, your mind flashes back to Taehyung and the piles of laundry he leaves clean by your closet. The least you could do for him was buy him a coffee to repay him. Before the guilt could permeate you too badly, your feet quickly turned you around back to the coffee shop. 

In your determination you miss the ice hidden underneath the snow. You gasp as you brace yourself for the impact, hands reach out to break your fall. However, instead of being met with the cold ground, your head crashes into a warm chest and a pair of arms darted out around you to save you from an untimely death. You were quick to try to scramble back up to your feet and avoid an icy fall, mumbling your apologies as you gained your balance again. Once you noticed who was standing in front of you, it left you speechless. 

Jungkook. 

You feel ashamed that you had forgotten about him a little bit. Jungkook was only collateral in whatever happened between you and Jimin, and he was suffering because of it. 

More than being with Jimin, you forgot about all the time you spent with Jungkook. Had he passed that economics test you helped him study for? Did he ever ask out that girl from his chem lab? What about that annoying Overwatch player he was fighting with online? You couldn’t decide how you felt about Jimin yet, but you most definitely missed Jungkook. 

You and Jungkook breeze through the pleasantries - how the weather is, what exams you have coming up, tv show plot twists. Jungkook doesn’t ask you how you’re doing, and for that, you’re grateful. He can probably tell anyways. If he notices the way that your hair is tied up in a messy bun (a truly messy, not even cute messy bun), the sweatpants you’re wearing even though you frequently said you’d only be caught dead wearing sweatpants out of the house, he doesn’t say anything. But his eyes give everything away. They’re laced with your least favorite emotion: pity. 

You try not to look him in the eyes not only for this reason, but also because he’s the spitting image of his brother. Even though it’s not his fault, it still hurts to look at Jungkook. He’s not identical to his brother in the slightest, but when he smiles all you can see is Jimin’s crooked tooth smile. He’s definitely stolen some of Jimin’s mannerisms too - he fidgets with the rings on his fingers and shifts his weight from side to side like a strand of seaweed at the bottom of the ocean. It’s funny to think that when you first met him you didn’t recognize the striking similarities. Jungkook interrupted your thoughts before you could ruminate any further. 

“Did I - Did I do something, Y/N?”

Oh, Jungkook. He couldn’t have been farther from the truth in his statement. 

“No, it’s just Jimin and I aren’t… great right now to say the least”. You run the back of your neck in awkwardness, something you picked up from the boy across from you. The cool winter breeze makes you shiver while you wait for Jungkook’s response.

Jungkook shakes his head. “No, I know that” he declares. He is firm in his statement, and he says it like it's a well-known fact.

 “I know you and Jimin aren’t talking” Jungkook looks extra thoughtful as he pauses and chooses his next words. “I guess, I just thought you and I were friends too Y/N”. 

 If your heart wasn’t broken before, it is definitely shattered now.

Jungkook’s eyes are cloudy as he looks back up at you. You can’t tell what he’s feeling - it could be sadness, frustration, resentment, or it could be a combination of all three, since that’s what you’re feeling right now. 

You want to Jungkook all of it. How your heart is broken, how everything was so good and then turned so bad, so fast. But you stop yourself. He already knows, or at least he already knows enough. You’ve been so busy blaming Jimin for leaving, caught up in your own emotions, that you forgot that time isn’t frozen for others like Jungkook. They’re living, and you should be too. 

A thoughtful expression returns to Jungkook’s face - you can practically hear the gears turning in his head before he speaks. 

“I know my brother, and he can be a lot. And he’s bad at saying sorry sometimes - actually, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say sorry.” Jungkook says with a chuckle. “But he cares a lot, always, even if he doesn’t show it.” 

And Jungkook’s words bring tears to your eyes. And you want to believe him so badly. You know Jungkook would never lie to you - but your mind still flashes back to Jimin. Your wounds are still raw - you still haven’t forgotten that empty feeling of waking up alone.

And so you’ll tell Jungkook that it’ll take time. That you need some time to stop feeling so hurt. He understands, or at least he nods as if he does. Jungkook manages to convince you to hang out with him a little longer, catch him up on everything he’s missed. It starts to feel like old times as he tells you about new video games he bought and the awful lab protocols he had to learn last week. He asks about how you’re doing but doesn’t pry too much, accepting your vague answers and sidesteps when it comes to touchy subjects. Jungkook knows exactly what to say to carry the conversation, even throwing in a few compliments here and there for you. 

“You know Y/N, the thing that inspired me the most about you were always determined to do whatever you put your mind to. I remember that day you walked circles around the apartment to meet your step goal and beat Taehyung, or that time that you stayed up all night perfecting your art project painting once that rude girl in your class said that hers was better than yours. You’re dedicated, almost stubborn maybe too because of it” he laughs.

Jungkook continues on, his hands still flying around as he tells the extravagant story about an Overwatch player he saw online last night. You nod at all the right places, making sure to show Jungkook that you really do care. 

 “Anyways, this classics course that I’m taking as an option is such as bore. The professor is like 80 years old and she talks at the speed of a turtle. I swear it took her 5 minutes just to say the quote “you are only confined by the walls you build yourself.””

Jungkook keeps talking after saying that, but you stay stuck on those words.

You are confined only by the walls you build yourself. 

You are living in walls, whether they’re ones you built yourself or ones that Jimin made before he left, you’re not sure, but the quote resonates with the way you’re going through life right now. It’s a stretch to say that you’re living - you’re going through the same routine each day, the one that you built around the walls that are holding you back. And so, you decided to break down those walls and start living again.

You don’t want to start small, you don’t know how long your bout of courage is going to last, and you’re not going to waste it on something like cleaning your room or going to the gym. You want to stare down the beast, and you’re going to.. 

Welcome to the Vancouver Film School Application Portal! To begin your application, click “apply” in the bottom left position of the screen. 

You take a deep breath in, clutching at the necklace on your chest. The boy who gave it to you may not be in your life anymore, but the charm still holds your dreams in it. You look as if you’re poking a bear as you dart out one finger to hit the “Apply button”, one eye closed and the rest of your face in a tight grimace.

Luckily, the first step seems like the hardest. At least after you’ve paid the application fee you figure that it’s best to at least fill it out and give it a try, it’d be a waste of your money otherwise. You try not to think too much as you go through the application. If you stop and ruminate on what you’re doing, you may realize the insanity of it all.

You’re quick to commemorate the moment that you hit submit and receive your application confirmation email. It’s a raw selfie which captures the moment in its entirety - your eyes are tired from staring at your computer screen too long, your hair has obviously been neglected in a messy bun for quite a while, and the white light from your computer creates an egregious color balance in the photo. Regardless, your bright smile still shines through in the picture, and it’s the first thing that Jungkook comments on when you send him the photo. It’s only after you send it that you realize that Jungkook has no idea that you even wanted to go to film school and is probably very confused about your message, but before you can send a follow up clarifying message to him he already sent another response. 

Jungkook: I’m so proud of you, Y/N. 

You don’t end up getting to clean your room or do a workout today. It turns out writing a personal statement,, refreshing your resume, and creating a demo reel and script was especially exhausting when you haven’t done anything intense for weeks. But you’re proud of yourself. Tomorrow will be better. 

You’re on an upward trajectory for a while. It starts with picking up reading again, then helping Taehyung with cooking dinner. You start spending more time in the living room that cooped up in the 4 walls of your bedroom, even joining a yoga class. Taehyung had been waiting to finish watching Doom at Your Service with you, so you both binge the last couple episodes together over a bowl of popcorn. 

Jimin remains as “He who must not be named”. He’s not completely erased from your life, you can hear Taehyung talking on the phone sometimes to who you can only presume to be Jimin, and when you FaceTime Jungkook to help him with his intro to nursing course you can hear him sing in the bathroom. Regardless, you still don’t talk about him and the rest of your friends never talk about him either. If Jimin is ever hanging out with Taehyung or Jungkook, which you know they are, you’re glad you don’t have to hear about it. It’s sad to think about sometimes, how your friend group was severed. But you can’t dwell on the feelings too long before you start to feel angry again. 

You hurry past Taehyung to your bedroom when you get home from your afternoon lecture. An email with the subject line of  “Vancouver Film School Application Status Updated” has been sitting in your inbox for the last half of your biochemistry lecture and it is driving you crazy. 

You take a couple deep breaths before clicking on the email. In just a few moments, your entire life could change. You could be packing up and moving to a whole new city, studying for your dream job and pursuing your passions. The nervousness in your chest soon started to mix with feelings of wonder and excitement. This email has new beginnings that you want, no, that you need right now. 

Dear Y/N L/N, 

Thank you for applying to Vancouver Film School. We regret to inform you that…

Your brain shuts off as you read the second sentence. You blink twice and refresh the page as if it would change the outcome. As if your fate wasn’t sealed the minute you handed in that application and couldn’t be altered.

After a few moments, you try to read through the rest of the email. As much as the disappointment is washing over you, there’s still that small glimmer of hope that the email still goes on to explain how great you are and how they want you in the program. After all, what are humans if not overly optimistic? 

The tears start falling and they don’t stop. At least not for a while. It’s hard in moments like this to not overanalyze everything you’ve ever done leading up to this moment. Your chest tightens until the only noises you can make out are small whines between your sobs. You rubbed the heel of your palm against your chest in an attempt to repair your broken heart. 

Fuck film school. Fuck boys who convince you that you’re good enough to chase your dreams of going to film school and then screw you over. Fuck everything, basically. 

The days seem to blend into nothingness after that. 

You did it, you took the leap and you fell. Hard. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do afterwards - try again? Let it go? Things quickly start to lose meaning. By filling out the film school application you had let go of the love you had for nursing, which made coming to your classes each day an absolute torture. You drag your heels when coming to your lectures, barely take any notes, and only hand in assignments on time because the idea of your parents finding out about your failures is the only thing more scary than the failure itself. 

When you step into Professor Kwong’s class on Monday morning, he’s already writing on the whiteboard. There’s a tense atmosphere to the space, people are already buried nose-first into their books and class hasn’t even started yet. It’s only when you look at the board which now reads “Exam start time 8:00, end time: 9:20” that your eyes widen. Shit. You curse as you rummage through your bag to open up your planner, only to see that the pages are completely blank as of a couple weeks ago. It’s too late now to run away and apply for a sick deferral since the proctors have already seen you, so you have no choice but to sit down in the alphabetically-ordered seating chart. At least your last name is nowhere close to “Park”.

A,B,C,D. You may not know much about ethics right now, but you do know about math, and there’s a 25 percent that you’ll guess correct on a question. If you can manage to knock out one option, that ups your odds to 33 percent. It’s an educated guess as you make your way through the exam, and the lack of critical thinking taking place that lets you flip the exam papers way faster than others. Your mentally thanking yourself for aceing the papers in this course, since you know that even if you tank this exam it won’t drag you down too badly. 

 “People who finish exams fast are one of two things: really stupid, or really frickin smart” Taehyung had declared after one of your exams in your freshman year. As you got up to hand in your paper after only 23 minutes had passed of the 80 minute exam, it was abundantly clear to you which one of the two you were. The chair lets out an ugly screech as you gather your things, and you can see a couple eyes in the lecture room flutter around to find the source of the disturbance. You’re now acutely aware of the way you look, no makeup, messy messy bun, clothes that most likely have a stain since they haven’t been washed in at least a couple weeks. You almost wish that you could sit back down, no, crawl under the desk and hide there until the time was up. You shut your eyes and let out a curse under your breath as you make your way to the front to hand in your exam. You’re like a horse with blinders on, focused only on your task you reaching the finish line. If you see the glaring looks that you imagine you’re receiving as you walk through the rows, there’s a chance that you would lose it right then and there. You don’t look your professor in the eye as you hand him your exam, and the moment he says you’re good to go, you dart out of the room as if you’re flexing a burning building. 

You don’t notice the pair of eyes watching you as you leave the lecture hall. 

jimin: hey, did something happen to Y/N? She looked off at the ethics midterm today.

On god, if Taehyung was rich, he might’ve squeezed his phone so hard that it broke. But no Taehyung wasn’t rich, he was a broke college student who definitely could not afford a new phone, so he instead takes out his frustrations by yelling to the sky. He loves his best friend, but he is being an absolute idiot if he can’t put together the pieces about why you may not be doing so great right now. Taehyung has been very careful not to push too hard, to never ask Jimin for too many details. Jimin doesn’t share anything other than he’s not talking to you right now, and Taehyung tries to respect that boundary without prying too much about what happened. But right now, the ignorance in Jimin’s words is driving Taehyung mad, and he can’t help but let it out. 

tae is typing…

tae: dude… you broke her, literally. I’ve never seen her like this and I don’t know what to do. So yeah, something happened, and that something was YOU, jimin. You’re both being stubborn idiots at this point since you obviously need to talk to each other and I can’t be the middle man between you guys anymore. Figure this out on your own. 

Taehyung’s finger hovered over the send button. He wanted so badly to let it all out. He’s tired of this. Tired of acting like a defense lawyer on trial protecting both of you from each other. But even though he feels like garbage, he knows that you both probably feel infinitely worse. Jimin has always been there for him - he never says “i told you so” when Taehyung comes home upset because of a girl that was no good from the beginning, he still comes to make sure Taehyung is awake for 8am CHEM lab, even though it makes him late, and whenever Taehyung needs him, even when it’s in the middle of the night, Jimin is always there for him. Taehyung will always feel extremely indebted to Jimin, and getting mad at him over text was no way to repay him. 

When he retypes his message, the first word is all that is retained from the original. It’s not perfect, but it’s as much as he can muster. 

tae : dude… i don’t know. Ask her yourself if you care.

Jimin never replies.

Taehyung goes to 6pm pilates alone today.

He still asks you before he leaves and reminds you to eat the dinner he left you in the fridge. He’s a little more sullen than usual. He’s tired, so he’s praying that Pilates brings some sort of energy release. 

You may not notice the extent of Taehyung’s emotions as he leaves the apartment, but you do notice him bumbling around the apartment a bit more than usual. He forgets his keys more often than not, so when there’s a loud pounding at the door, it’s most likely that Taehyung has yet again forgotten to check his pocket for his gym membership before going to class AND he forgot his key. 

“Tae next time I may just let you stay out there “ you started as you groaned, not even looking him in the eye. Well, you were looking someone in the eye. But it was the last person you expected.

“Jimin”, you breathed out, releasing some of the tightness that was building up in your chest.

“Yea… um, not Taehyung” he says quietly while shifting his weight from side to side, clearly nervous. 

Jimin doesn’t wait for you to reply before he speaks again. After all, there’s a high chance that you could slam the door in his face at any second. 

“Can we-”

The word “we” brings up a bitter taste in Jimin's mouth. There is no “we” existing between the two of you anymore, and he did nothing if not make that crystal clear by not speaking to you for the past 4 weeks. It’s a tough pill to swallow for Jimin to admit that his faults, and he curses himself for being off to such a bad start.

Jimin chooses his words more carefully the next time he opens his mouth. 

“can you and I talk, please?”

You can hear the pleading in voice, and the tears that you’ve been trying to keep at bay since the moment you saw him are starting to flood your eyes. You snap them shut and take a deep breath, thinking of Jungkook’s words before you speak again. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Jimin.” 

An air of silence lays over the room for far too long. You’re proud of yourself - there are no tears, no voice cracks, no shaky hands. The Y/N from a couple months ago would’ve been a sobbing puddle by now. But you’re strong, stronger than you ever realized you were, and that brings a sense of comfort to you. 

When the silence lingers for far too long, you make the move to start shutting your apartment door, and for a second, you think you’re actually going to be able to. This is it, the final moments. 

“5 minutes, that’s all I ask Y/N. please” 

You can’t see his face as it stays laser focused on the floor, but you can see Jimin’s desperation in the way that his fingers clench even tighter around the door frame. Jimin is most definitely going to get a splinter from his actions, but that doesn’t stop him. He scratches his fingers across the peeling paint on your door, making the only sounds that seem to fill the empty space. 

“If -” Jimin starts before he has to stop and take a deep breath. 

“If you want me to leave after 5 minutes, I will. You’ll never see me again. And I know I don’t even deserve that much time. But please, Y/N, please. 5 minutes.” 

Then Jimin looks up. He doesn’t know if this is the last he’ll see of you, and if it is, he wants to make sure that he gets to take you in one last time. 

It’s at this moment that you realize that Park Jimin is crying. The tears are steadily flowing from his eyes like a dam has broken, yet he makes no move to try and stop himself. It’s not pretty in the slightest - his eyes are bloodshot, there’s snot pooling between his nose and his cupid’s bow, and his body seems to jerk with every sob that runs through his body. The Jimin from a couple months ago never would’ve been so open with his emotions like this. You see now that just like how you’ve changed, Jimin has changed too. 

And that’s enough for your resolve to weaken. You’re still strong, but you’re not strong enough to close the door anymore. Instead, you open it silently, taking a step out of the way for Jimin to enter. 

JImin has never been more of a stranger in your apartment. He’s bundled in winter gear from head to toe, but even once he takes off his winter parka it still feels like the air is suffocating him. He’s haunted by the memories of all the moments he spent in your apartment. Instead of throwing his shoes off in a corner and teasing you with his smelly socks until you finally push him away between your bouts of laughter, he places them in a neat line beside your doormat. 

He looks around to see if anything’s changed. There’s still that chip on the wall from the time you decided to play with a frisbee in the living room, the stain on the rug from last time Jimin was here and spilled eggnog. 

“Um, you can sit on the couch.” You say stoically from the kitchen, gesturing to the sofa as if Jimin hadn’t bellyflopped on it at least 50 times before. 

Jimin silently took his regular place on your couch, sitting a little more formally than he would usually. He naturally started wringing his hands together, creating a cacophony of sounds that only added to the tension in the room. 

You silently placed a glass of water down on the coffee table. Jimin was a guest in your home, a guest in your life really, and you were making that abundantly clear. Along with the water you place a box of tissues on the wooden table. Even though you and Jimin were not on friendly terms, your heart wasn’t so cold that you would let the man sob without a tissue.

Only once you sit down on the armchair beside the couch, do you really take a look at Jimin. At first you shift around uncomfortably - the chair you’re on is rarely used as you all usually opt to cram around the couch instead. The way the chair crinkles whenever your body weight shifts only adds to the tension in the room. In another world Jimin would’ve laughed about the sounds and beatboxed over it to make some ridiculous song, and you would only make more noise as you kept laughing at the boy. Instead, now you’re only met with silence. 

“It’s pink” you whisper once you take in the figure across from you. 

You’re referring to Jimin’s new hair color. You can see it more clearly now that he’s taken off his hoodie. The highlighter pink of his hair is a stark contrast to the way that the rest of his dull appearance. You suppress the urge to run your hand through his hair as you watch him sit perched on your sofa. 

“Yeah… just wanted a change, I guess” He runs his hands through his hair to avoid meeting your gaze. 

It’s extremely awkward as you both sit across from each other. You stay silent for the most part - if Jimin wanted to say something to you, you would let him. He looks overwhelmed as he chews his bottom lip between his teeth in worry, so you can’t help but help him out a little. 

“What’s that paper?” You ask, motioning to the white square that sticks out from his jacket pocket. 

It’s as if that prompts Jimin of what he’s here to do, because he instantly reaches for the paper and pulls it out to hand it to you.

“I, um, was hoping you would read this” 

Jimin hands a stack of papers in your direction. You can see the MLA formatted title page on the top and it instantly has you seeing red. The audacity of Park Jimin to beg to come into your place under the premise of forgiveness and then ask you to proofread his schoolwork. Your jaw is clenching so tightly you can barely get out your next words. 

“You’re seriously asking me to read your papers? Wow, Park Jimin. You are really something else. I - “ Your nostrils are flaring as you rage at him. You’re about to storm out of your own apartment with how mad you are at him, desperate to get away from him as fast you can.

“No - , no Y/N, please. I already handed this in, it already got marked. I just - I just want you to read it.” Jimin dares to move closer to you, his hand barely outstretched enough to almost reach your hand across the armrest. 

You take a few moments to ponder it. And then you begrudgingly snatch the papers from his hands. 

Park Jimin 

Seoul National University 

ETH 210: Ethics and Morality

Topic 3 Paper 

You know Jimin’s telling the truth. You wrote the same paper a couple weeks ago for the same class. “Write about one ethical principle and how it applies in real life.”  You wrote a kick-ass paper about autonomy in the medical system. Jimin, however, seemed to take a different approach. 

Nonmaleficence is one of the most basic ethical principles there is. “Do no harm”, we are taught from a young age. In fact, I remember my own mother teaching me this when I was a toddler. I’d always taken it very seriously - I even went through the trouble of returning $1 to the local police station when I found it lying on the street. 

My whole life, I’ve tried not to harm others, but recently I hurt someone who I care about a lot. The problem is, I didn’t realize it until afterwards. I was selfish and I was confused. There’s this girl, and she means everything to me. I didn’t know how much I needed her until I didn’t have her in my life anymore. The worst thing is that I thought I was doing the right thing - I didn’t feel good enough for her. She deserves the world and I don’t know if I can give that to her. I was scared that I would ruin everything by expressing my feelings, so I left everything. 

While trying to do no harm, I ended up harming everyone I cared about. The girl I can't’ stop thinking about, my best friend, and even my own brother. I turned into a shell of who I was and I was too stubborn to admit my mistakes, at least until now. 

It’s a thick stack of paper. The essay continues - Jimin explains all the things he did wrong, all the things he felt. The words on the page are Jimin’s heart beared out onto a piece of paper. 

Jimin sits there as he watches you read all 8 pages. With every second that passes by where you don’t say anything, Jimin starts to regret his decision more and more. Maybe it would’ve made more sense for him to just show you the first and last page instead. You didn’t need to read the entire paper with it’s 20 sources. It’s when he can see your eyes reach the bottom of the last page that he starts to really lose his mind. Your eyes aren’t focused on him in the slightest, but if they were you would see the way that his hands are trembling. Jimin tries to calm himself by wringing his hands around his neck. 

“I, uh, I got a B minus on that paper actually, Professor Kwong said that I “failed to address the prompt”” Jimin says with air quotes. It’s the first normal sounding thing that’s come out of his mouth the entire time that he’s been here. The silence starts to feel a little less heavy afterwards and it gives Jimin a bit of hope. 

“This is silly, Jimin. You know that, right?” You look him dead in the eyes as you speak. 

You do a decent job keeping a poker face, at least enough that Jimin can’t tell what you think. Jimin feels so incredibly silly - you’re right, what was he thinking? It was a stupid idea. If he can’t even express his feelings out loud, what is he doing by trying to hand them to you on a piece of paper? He starts to stand up from the couch when you catch him at his wrist. 

“It’s silly because we’re friends, Jimin. Actually, we’re best friends, and best friends don’t disappear overnight and only leave a note.” You hold the papers in your hands tightly as you say your next words “

“ I was running from my own feelings. It’s cliche and it’s cheesy, but I was worried about what it would do to our friendship if I said anything. I know I can’t live without you Y/N, the last 4 weeks have definitely taught me that, so if I can only have you as a friend I’m okay with that. I know I’m barely deserving of having you as a friend now because of how I treated you.” 

It feels so honest. Jimin is the most sincere. You can  tell that it’s a little rehearsed, like he probably practiced it in his bathroom mirror at home before showing you makes your heart swell a little bit. 

“You kinda say it in here, but if you want this, you’re gonna have to say it” you say seriously as you look him in the eye, waving the paper around. There’s no way that there 

“I like you Y/N, I really do.” He says. He doesn’t whisper it. He even says he’ll yell it from the rooftops if you want him to. But this is more than enough for you.

“I like you too, Park Jimin” 

The sounds of keys hitting the floor wakes you from your slumber. 

It’s Jimin - last night must have been too good to be true. You curse yourself for being so foolish, for thinking that people really can change. That once things are broken they can be fixed. He must be trying to make a break for it before you wake up, not even bothering to say goodbye. Your heart starts to sink into the pit of your stomach. 

But as you try to get off the couch, you realize that your pillow right now is Park Jimin, so there’s no way that he’s sneaking out of your apartment. He’s still deep in his slumber, the remnants of last night still present through the tear stains on his cheeks, but he’s here. 

There’s only one other person with the key to your apartment. 

The culprit is Taehyung, and he’s wide-eyed, mouth gaping open in surprise. Anyone who saw his expression would think that Taehyung saw a ghost, and in some ways, he thinks he has. He doesn’t blink once, for fear that once he closes his eyes the scene in front of him will disappear.

“Hey, you remembered your keys this time,” you say as you start to wiggle out of Jimin’s hold. In the time that you said that sentence you’ve looked Taehyung in the eyes more than you have in the last couple weeks combined. There’s a new glow, a certain freshness to your face. The weariness that has plagued your face for so long isn’t there anymore. Taehyung releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he saw the way you looked. 

And then he sobs. 

Kim Taehyung is now a ball on the ground, head buried between his knees and the sounds of his cries racket around the apartment. It’s a cry of relief. Now that he sees that you’re okay, Taehyung can finally let himself go. 

“Oh, Taehyung” you murmur, making your way over to him in the entryway. You circle your arms  around him and bring him into your hold, rubbing your arms on his back. He shakes as he sobs, but his hands grip and the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing. He’s been your rock for so long, and right now, you get to be Taehyung’s rock for him. Seeing your best friend fall apart makes you want to cry, but you don’t. This is Taehyung’s moment and you want him to have it - it’s what he deserves. You blink away your tears by looking up at the popcorn ceiling.

“I missed you” is all Taehyung murmurs into your chest as he sobs. He doesn’t even know if his words are comprehensible between his tears, but you hear him loud and clear. Even though you’ve technically been around this whole time, you get it. And you missed him too. 

Jimin silently creeps up on you both. He lays a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and gives it a rub to alert him to his presence. Taehyung still feels like he’s dreaming when he sees both of you smiling in the same room. He’s happy to see Jimin like this too. Jimin sinks down to floor level to steal Taehyung into a side hug. You still keep holding Taehyung’s hand though - you want to make sure he’s still there. 

The boys nod at each other and do some complicated handshakes - there’s fist bumps and spins and some animal noises that sound especially funny when considering the fact that both of them are now crying. It ends with Jimin pulling Taehyung into a tight hug. They don’t seem to say many words to each other, but they communicate their feelings in a way that only they understand. 

“Are you guys okay?” Taehyung asks once he pulls himself together, wiping off the last of his tears. Taehyung thinks he already knows the answer, but he wants to, no, he needs to hear it from you. He wants to make sure that this is real.

You and Jimin look at each other simultaneously. 

“We’re… really good, Tae” you both chime, a smile gracing your faces that gives away everything anyways. 

It’s not a perfect answer, but that’s enough for Taehyung. He doesn’t ask any more questions - whether you were dating or just friends, everything else could wait. He just got his two best friends back, and he was going to enjoy it .

The three of you cook breakfast together that morning. Taehyung is just glad he doesn’t have to order delivery anymore. 

It starts awkwardly, which is to be expected when you go from friends, to not talking at all, to friends who are dating, but you and Jimin never give up. It’s different now - you talk to each other when you’re scared, ask questions instead of assuming things. It’s difficult, learning how to love each other, but it’s also fun.You both mess up every once in a while, Jimin buying you flowers you’re allergic to, you accidentally interrupting one of his weekly gym sessions when you drop by for a surprise visit. It’s imperfect, it’s messy, but it’s perfectly you and Jimin. 

When you put your keys down on your entryway table and yell for Jimin, you gasp when you’re met with complete darkness when a pair of hands cover your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, it’s me,” the voice whispers in your ear. Even though he doesn’t say his name, you know that Jimin is the one behind you. He asks you how your day is while in the same position, and he laughs when you refuse to answer until you can see daylight again. 

‘If your hair isn’t pink anymore I’m going to be really upset, so I really hope the surprise isn’t that” you confess once Jimin admits that he has a surprise for you. Since you still can’t see, you miss the blush that coats Jimin’s cheek. He makes a mental note to himself to head to his hairdresser to touch up his roots next week. 

This moment, being trapped in Jimin’s hold as he tells you funny jokes, feels like being young and in love. Being naive and making mistakes. You and Jimin are going to be awkward, you’re going to argue, but you’re going to do it all with love. 

When Jimin finally unveils the scene in front of you for you, you let out a gasp that paralleled the one you let out a month ago. 

“I really missed spending New Year’s with you” Jimin says with a shy smile on his face. 

Jimin missed no details in his set up. Giant balloons spelling out the year are in front of you along with a banner that says “Happy new year”, gold and silver balloons floating around the room along with a host of other decorations that Jimin could find at a discount. 

The most perfect part of it all is the section of the wall titled “The Best Parts of the Year”. Underneath it are photos of you together throughout the year - parties, study sessions, pranks, 8am CHEM lab.  As you run your fingers on each photo, it takes you right back to all the special moments. 

“That’s when I feel in love with you, yknow” 

Jimin says it so casually, like it’s not the first time he’s saying those 3 special words to you. That somehow makes it even more special - like it’s so understood, so ingrained. Jimin loves you - he’s loved you for a long time and he plans on doing it for a lot longer. Once you see the photo he’s pointing to, it does leave you feeling a little puzzled. 

“But that photo is from that chemistry lab we had to make up on a Friday night when Taehyung slept in. We weren’t together back then.”

“ I know. But I just knew it then, when I was eating cereal in this living room, that I wanted you to be a part of my life for a long time, Y/N”

Despite all the amazing decor, you can’t help but look at the handsome man in front of you. His pink hair perfectly matches a flashy rhinestoned jacket that he’s wearing, but the best part of it is the way that he looks at you. But he’s glowing - it’s pitch black outside but Jimin is like your own sun, lighting up your life.

Wow, he really couldn’t get anymore perfect. 

“I know, but I’m going to keep trying to outdo myself.” Jimin jokes while he walks towards you and kisses your cheek. “For the record, I think you’re perfect too. And it’s cute when you talk out loud”. Jimin pinches your cheeks which are already turning red at his words. You plop on a cheesy happy new year headband on Jimin’s head before spinning him away towards the two champagne glasses which sit on your coffee table.

And then, you recreate all the missed memories - selfies with tacky New Years glasses, karaoke, a YouTube recording of the NYC ball drop. The twinkly lights he reused from Christmas are a welcome addition to the space as a reminder of the magic of spending holidays with Jimin. 

Jimin kisses you when the clock strikes midnight and it’s all the fireworks you’ll ever need. You giggle like a schoolgirl when Jimin pulls away from you. 

“What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” Jimin says, a cheeky smile painting his lips as he looks down at you. Your faces stay inches away from each other when you blush from his words.

“Your girlfriend?” You tease as you loop your arms around his neck. The two of you sway side to side with glee to the imaginary music that is filling the room.

“Mhm, my girlfriend” Jimin emphasizes as he peppers more kisses on your face. “Saying that never gets old.”

“II love you, Jimin” you whisper, foreheads pressed against one another. It’s scary to admit, but saying it out loud is exciting. It feels like there’s magic in the air as you watch Jimin’s face light up at your words. 

“I love you too, Y/N” 

You jumped into the sewer, and quickly scrambled to press yourself flat against the dirty wall. Your shoulder was throbbing; no pain, thanks to the adrenaline, but you knew the dampness seeping into your vest was not due to the dripping waste water.

“You’d better find me an escape route soon, guys,” you hissed. Your earpiece scrambled with noises- panicked noises- which included a lot of shouting, and did nothing to calm your nerves. “I’m gonna get more bullet holes in me if you don’t talk to me!”

More scrambling came from the other line, and you were almost resigned to your fate, until a deep voice came on. “Agent Pink, this is Agent Kim. I’m going to get you out. You have my word.”

You almost retorted that whoever this Agent Kim was, he should not make promises he could not keep. But there was something in his voice- calm, authoritative, confident- that gave you a surge of hope.

“All right, Agent Kim. My life is in your hands.”

It took sixteen hours to get you out of the mess in Macau. But as Agent Kim had promised, he got you out, and without any additional injuries.

Agent Min taps the folder with his bony finger. “Do this one, then you can start your Christmas vacation. It’s worth it, trust me. You’ll regret it if you don’t do it.”

You huff. You don’t like how vague the mission is, but damn it, your curiosity is piqued. Also, how can you turn down an opportunity to spend time with Agent Kim?

“Okay, fine, I’ll do it. But I want to be absolutely undisturbed after this job, until Seollal.”

Your handler smirks again into his cup. “Oh, don’t you worry about that.”

You whizz through traffic, weaving in and out in your sleek sports car. The Christmas eve traffic out of the city is more congested than expected, and with the snow falling even heavier, you start to feel a little irritated. Your plan for a quiet Christmas Eve, the start of your Christmas holiday- the annual do not call, do not contact, just leave me alone- is going to be delayed because of a supposedly easy but very rewarding job Agent Min has convinced you to take.

“It’s a small house by the river, just an hour drive from the city. Normal security, nothing Agent Kim cannot handle,” Agent Min explained earlier. “Whatever it is you’re supposed to take, would be in one of the rooms.”

You sigh. It sounded so much like a trap, but your handler again convinced you that the only traps set out on Christmas Eve were those by children trying to catch Santa. Also, Agent Kim was canvassing the area as you were sipping your morning coffee. So, seriously, you had nothing to worry about.

Another sigh escapes your lips. Four years in this job and you are starting to feel the burnout. You probably have traveled around the world ten times by now, and the zeros in your bank account are more than enough for an early retirement. Additionally- to your horror- you recently discovered that you groan more when you get out of bed, the kinks and aches in your body are getting harder to deal with. Maybe you should go off field for a year? The thought of being behind a desk mortifies you, however. You are made to be on the ground, too much of a street smart to be cooped up in an office.

“Are you okay, Agent Pink? Weather is not on our side tonight.”

You smile the moment his voice comes through your ear piece. “Agent Kim, I’ve driven in worse weather, remember?”

It was all red dust in front of you.

“Agent Kim, I can’t see shit.”

You hated the panic in your voice. But you were panicking. The desert storm came out of nowhere and you could barely see a meter in front of you. You could not afford to slow down, let alone stop, not when you could still hear bullets whooshing past your SUV.

“I got you, Agent. Just listen to my voice, okay?” The low timbre voice in your ear was calm and collected. “I’ll be your eyes. I’ll get you out of this.”

“Oh I do, and I do not want to relive that. Just be careful, okay? It’s a short but tedious drive.”

You smile fondly at the concern beneath his voice. After three years of partnership, he has gotten to know all your habits during assignments, and he has always criticized the way you drive.

“I’ll be careful, don’t you worry. By the way, have you gotten your license yet?”

He remains silent for a couple of seconds, then clears his throat. “Bicycles are friendlier for the environment.”

You burst out laughing in your car.

He is one of the most amazing people that has come into your life. He is smart- super smart. He can navigate through the most complicated network, hack into the most secure system, while convincing you that crabs are friends, not food, that natural pools are important for the future of the world’s ecosystems, all through the earbud in your ear. In summary, his intelligence is sexy. And even sexier when paired with that voice of his. Also, he loves bonsai, modern art and his dog Moni. He loves reading in the park, he writes poetry in his downtime, and have you mentioned how sexy his voice is? It does not matter that you have never met him face to face for the three years you have been paired together, since Macau.

Agent Kim is perfect in your books.

“Sorry you have to spend Christmas eve with me. I’m sure you have a better place to be, and with someone more important.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he replies quickly. “Or with anyone else.”

Damn it, why do your cheeks suddenly feel warm?

“Do you remember our first official assignment?” he asks.

You yawned in your seat, rubbing your tired eyes as the monitors in front of you continued showing the same scenes- a corrupt politician having the time of his life with his mistress. You groaned when she squealed and shrieked in a high pitch voice as she bounced on top of him.

“I swear she inhaled helium beforehand,” you sipped your third cup of coffee. You had gathered enough evidence of the affair, you just needed him to open the safe so you could discover his pin number. However, you underestimated his stamina. The two had been going like rabbits for nearly four hours now.

“Do you want me to read you a book while we wait, uh, for them to finish?”

“You can read me a manual to hook your printer to your wifi and it’d still be more interesting than this.”

Low rumbles filled your ears. You smiled to yourself.

“How about… ah, here we go, lucky I still have this in my bag.” You heard rustling at his end. “IQ84.”

“Yes, and I can’t believe you read that whole book for me.”

“Well, it took about 10 assignments but it’s worth it. I had to spread the gospel of Murakami, you know,” he pauses for a moment then adds, “I like spending time… and, uh, working with you.”

You giggle. How does he make you feel like a schoolgirl with a silly crush? You have tried to dismiss this infatuation, especially since you have never met the man, but the more time you spend with him, the more you feel there is something that binds the two of you together. Sure, his job is to make sure you go in and out of a mission alive, every field agent has to have that basic trust with their tech-intelligence partner, but over time you have formed this attachment to Agent Kim, so much so that you actually have the balls to turn down assignments from your handler if you cannot have Agent Kim as your backup.

There is an explicit trust that you have in him; it probably stemmed from him saving your life in Macau. You cannot help but feel grateful and that the fact that he got you out when everyone else struggled makes you feel he is the only one who has earned your trust. Dare you say that trust has, over the years, evolved as something more?

With every mission you did with him, your feelings for him grew, to the point where you actually fantasize about him. You have no idea how this man looks but your mind has painted such a beautiful image, and you are not ashamed to admit that the Agent Kim of your mind has invaded your dreams, more than once, waking you up all hot and bothered.

You shake your head. Who the hell had an orgasm while panting ‘Agent Kim’ over and over again? You and your thirsty ass, that’s who. And why is it so hot in your car now? You chastise yourself for having worn your leather jacket rather than the puffy one. And why is your heart beating so fast?

“Your exit is coming up in 2k. You doing okay?” His voice broke your reverie.

You nearly jump at his voice, feeling caught for having had indecent thoughts about him. “Yup, how’s the local road like?”

“From what I can see, dark, not much lighting. So I’ll be directing you, okay? Just don’t drive too fast.”

“Yes sir,” you mumble, and you hear him flustering in your ear piece.

“Yes, sir, I’ll be a good girl, sir.” You twirled in your bubblegum, frilly babydoll nightie, as your target, a slimy, greasy mafia boss licked his lips lecherously in front of you.

“Shit, Agent Pink, just drop the poison and go. We’ve got his confession and enough evidence!” Agent Kim’s voice was taut and weary in your ear.

“We can have a little fun, can’t we, sir?”

The mafia boss’s debauched sniggers filled the room, even though you were directing your question to the special Agent hundreds of miles away from where you were.

“Agent Pink, please, just poison him and leave.”

Your flirtatious smile faltered a bit when you heard his pleading voice. You had wanted to take your time to torture the piece of shit in front of you, but with Agent Kim’s earnestly imploring you to get out, you did not have the heart to make him even more worried than he already was. So you poisoned the mafia boss, put on your long trench coat, then jumped out of the balcony before any of the minions realized their boss was foaming at the mouth.

You clear your throat, your cheeks feel even hotter after recalling that particular mission. You remember how you lay in bed that night and realized Agent Kim would have seen you in that lingerie, thanks to the cameras in the room he had hacked into. The realization embarrassed you deeply, but at the same time turned you on greatly as well. Your fantasies involving Agent Kim only went into overdrive then.

You shake your head again, clearing your head of that memory. You do not regret the length sometimes you have to go to complete such missions, but you often find yourself wondering what Agent Kim thinks when you do honey trap jobs and you have to dress accordingly- does he think you look sexy? Beautiful? Desirable? Does he think of you the way you do of him?

“Exit coming up,” he reminds you, and you swiftly change lanes. “Turn left and just follow the road for another k. From there it gets a bit tricky.”

You confirm his instructions, and focus on the road. You are quite surprised how empty and deserted the area is, being just a mere hour away from the city. Agent Kim continues directing you, and soon, tall trees line both sides of the road, and just as he has warned you earlier, the road becomes dark with zero lighting. You can only see a few meters ahead of you, but you have no fear. You know that Agent Kim will look after you.

By god, there is a sudden pressure in your heart and you feel like you cannot live without him. His voice, his jokes, his trivia about insects and interior design have become such a major part of your life. Your chest tightens further.

“Agent, are you alright? Your heart rate is spiking.”

You shoot an evil stare at your smart-watch. Damn it, it’s not fair that he gets to see so much of you.

“Yes, I’m fine. Darkness, you know. Sewers. Macau.”

“I’m right here, okay? I got you. Just a bit more. You’re doing great, babe.”

You nearly moan when you hear the word. Babe.

“Okay, you turn right at the end of the road, keep walking, and the church will be on your left.”

You mindlessly follow his direction. “This painting better blow my mind, Agent Kim, you’re making me walk across Rome when I could be sleeping in.”

“Agent Pink, come on, don’t you trust your virtual tour guide and art connoisseur?”

You only laughed in response. “Okay, San Luigi dei Francesi. This is it? The doors are still locked, Agent.”

“Like that’s stopped you before.”

You looked around. It was shy of six a.m., and the city was just waking up. You picked the lock easily and quietly stepped into the church.

“Okay, I can see you’re in. Good. It’s near the altar,” his voice was brimming with excitement, “I won’t tell you which one it is, I want you to find it and see it first.”

Your boots echoed in the empty church as you made your way to the side where the paintings were displayed. Agent Kim had been going on and on about Caravaggio since he discovered you were going to Rome, and he had insisted that you saw this one particular painting before you left.

You were not one for the arts, but you appreciated beauty when you saw it. You breathed out an impressed sigh every now and again, until your eyes were completely transfixed. In lightless alcove of the church, the canvas seemed dark, but for a sliver of light shining upon a man who could not believe that he himself was the chosen one. You stood before the painting, speechless.

“Beautiful, isn’t it babe?”

You did not even register the nickname until much later, when Agent Kim apologized for overstepping. You assured him that it was all right, that you did not mind him calling you ‘Babe’ , for it sounded so natural when he said it anyway.

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmur, then your eyes widen at the sight before you. The trees have opened up as the road turns, and at the bend you see it- a little house by the river. And the moon, peeking out from the winter clouds, shines onto the scenery before you, making the water sparkle.

“Wow,” you breathe out, “this is beautiful. Agent Kim, this is the place? For real?”

“Yup, this is it. That’s the house.”

“Anything I should worry about?”

“Place is clean. I got all the security checks done, I’ll even open the door for you.”

Of course he will, what a gentleman.

As promised, Agent Kim has disabled the electronic lock on the front door, allowing you to step into the house quietly. Your hand itches to reach for the gun tucked on your back, despite Agent Kim reassuring you that the house is clean and there is definitely no need for firearms. Old habits die hard, you guess.

You turn on your penlight and look around. The house is small, and minimalistically furnished. There is a pleasant aroma of flowers, sandalwood and vanilla, which makes you think of Chanel No.5, but then you identify another smell underneath that reminds you of burnt bacon, of all things. Someone has been in here recently, you conclude.

Moving on from the living room, you rake your eyes searching for the mysterious object that you are supposed to retrieve, but nothing stands out for you, until you step into what looks like a reading room, with large shelves filled with rows and rows of books. There is an armchair with a blanket strewn over it, and a small side table, all facing the wide floor to ceiling windows and glass doors, opening the room up to the river outside.

And then you see it.

There, on a small table, and illuminated  by the moonlight, is a stack of books that seems to shine, beckoning you to come closer. Holding your breath, you gingerly touch the top book- leather, no, not just leather, but old leather. The binding is a little worn, but so intricately made, judging by the lacelike pattern on it. Your instinct tells you this is it, the target of your mission. You wonder what makes these books so special, so you open the cover. Your knees go weak at what is printed on the first page.

Pride and Prejudice. A Novel. In Three Volumes. by the Author of “Sense and Sensibility” Vol. I. London: Printed for T. Egerton, Military Libary, Whitehall. 1813

You grab the other books.

Vol. II. Vol. III.

All published in 1813. This is a collection of the first edition of your favorite book.

“Agent Kim,” you breathe out, your head dizzy. “What the hell? Is this it?”

No response. You press your ear piece harder into your ear. “Agent Kim?”

Silence.

“Agent Kim?” you call him again, and when you still get no answer from the other end, your fight mode kicks in. You reach for the gun on your back, but before you can whip it out, you see a flash of light outside followed by a series of loud ‘pop’.

You curse. You should have trusted your instinct, this is a trap, it has got to be. You dive to hide behind the armchair, your handgun now out and in a tight grip. After ensuring the safety is off, you look out to identify where the popping sounds are coming from.

But instead of an invisible adversary, you see flashes of bright colors in the night sky outside.

“What’s your ideal present?” Agent Kim asked as you were packing up your sniper rifle.

“Oh, that’s an easy one,” you answered confidently as the fireworks continued over the Sydney Harbour Bridge. “First edition of Pride and Prejudice.”

“Really?”

You smiled at the amusement in his voice.

“I was going to buy you a diamond necklace.”

You guffawed at him. Why was he so adorable? “Diamond? Please, anyone can get me that. The first edition of my favorite book, now that takes a special effort.”

“A special present for a special lady. Duly noted.”

You had a stupid smile on your face as you dashed across the rooftop and down the fire staircase.

“I wish we could watch the fireworks for a bit, Agent Kim.”

“Me too, Agent Pink. Next time, hmm? I’ll put on a good fireworks show for you.”

You tossed your sniper bag in an empty bin for the clean-up team to pick up in the morning, as planned. Then, making your way into the crowd, you looked up at the colorful sparks in the sky.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Happy birthday, Agent Pink.”

The fireworks finally stop, and right at the same time as the last burst of color explodes in the sky, a series of fairy lights come on outside, creating a pathway towards the river, and from the window, you can see a figure standing at the end of it.

“Agent Kim?” You call for him again, mind dizzy with disbelief.

The figure starts moving, and despite all your training, all your experiences, you are rooted in the reading room. Your eyes are transfixed on the person coming closer to the house, your brain is struggling to process what is happening, and your heart is beating a mile a minute.

You turn the safety back on on your gun. And you dare yourself to hope.

“Agent Kim,” you breathe out, no longer calling for him but wishing that you are right, that your fantasy is being manifested right before your eyes.

You see him clearly now, with the fairy lights shining on him, you see a kind face with a shy smile, eyes twinkling, dimples on full display. Dressed in a brown corduroy jacket, tan vest, white turtleneck and khaki pants, he looks more like a professor than a tech-intelligence agent. In all your fantasies, this is far from how you picture him to be, and yet, now that you have seen him, he is better, oh so much better, than what your imagination could ever procure.

With a click and a whirr, the glass doors open and the rush of the winter air quickly fills the room. You feel none of it, however. Your body is heated, more and more as Agent Kim finally steps into the house.

“Surprise,” he says as he stands right before you. You breathe shakily, tucking your gun away and reaching out to touch his face. His smile widens when your fingertips trace his dimple.

There are so many things you want to say, but only a choked sob comes out from your mouth. He steps closer to cup your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing away the tears that have unknowingly escaped.

“My dear Agent Pink,” his voice soft and full of endearment, “are you that happy to get your present?”

You laugh tearily, bunching the material of his blazer in your fist. “You have no idea,” you start, but unable to continue.

It’s him, it is really him. The man who saved your life, the man who keeps you safe, the man who is always with you literally through thick and thin, the man you cannot imagine living without. The man you have fallen in love with.

He is here. You’re touching him, he’s real.

You envelop him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around him. “It’s you, it’s really you.” You mumble into his chest.

“It’s me,” he caresses your hair, before ducking down to kiss the top of your head.

You breathe him in. He smells like comfort, like home. “I had hopes that this would happen one day, but,” you trail, pulling back to see his face, to look him in the eyes, “I never thought it could really happen.”

“Well,” he puffs, “I had pretty much the whole year to plan this. It took me that long to track those books down.”

He glances at the books, still left untouched since your discovery of them just mere minutes ago.

“Do you like my surprise?”

You nod ardently. “I wish I had known, I would’ve gotten you a present too.”

He leans down to peck you gently on your cheek. “Ah, Agent Pink, don’t you know?”

He kisses the corner of your mouth. You grip onto his clothes more tightly. He pulls you closer, until your bodies are pressed together.

“All I want for Christmas is you.”

“Agent Pink, wakey wakey.”

You groaned, annoyed at the intrusion to your cat nap. You groggily opened your eyes; your body felt heavy, refusing to wake up. Until you saw the old, dirty brick walls and the smell of the dank sewage water filled your nostrils. You jerked awake.

“Your extraction ride is here.” Agent Kim announced softly in your ear.

You gulped. Finally, finally, you’d be out of this hell hole.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s fine,” you answered raspily, then you hear the knocking from the grate above you. It would sound random to anyone who heard it, but you knew it was your code to get out of hiding.

You climbed out of the drain and were quickly bundled into a van. You recognised the driver, his feline eyes watched you with great concern.

“Hi Agent Min,” you greeted your handler. He simply nodded in return before started driving again.

As a medic attended to the wound on your shoulder, you watched the casinos of Macau whiz by. Your eyes were fluttering close, your body was shutting down after the twenty-hour adrenaline rush it had to endure.

“Agent Min,” you called out weakly, “no more Christmas missions.”

Your handler looked briefly at you from the rear view mirror. “No more Christmas missions.” He confirmed.

“And no more Macau.”

“Banned from the list.”

You sighed, letting exhaustion take over. “Thank you,” you whispered, then again, to the man hundreds of miles away, who had managed to get you out. “Thank you, Agent Kim.”

You drifted to sleep then, just missing the shaky, relieved response from the person sitting next to your handler, on the passenger seat.

“You’re welcome, Agent Pink.”

Ta da! Hope you enjoyed reading this, Miss Mari! Happy Holidays!