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As far as Jimin can remember, the song's always been there. Like the hum of a fan on humid summer nights, it sort of just faded into the background of his consciousness. To be honest, he only allows himself to drown in its melody on the nights he's feeling exceptionally lonely.
Growing up, Jimin can vividly recall his childhood friends playing guessing games about which two classmates heard the same song. And when he was younger, it was cute. But maybe that's because of the fact none of them really understood what love was. Or what it truly meant to have a soulmate.
Not that Jimin's claiming to have it all figured out now. He's painfully aware of the fact that most would deem him below average when it comes to successfully connecting with another human. In all of his sixteen years, he's kissed precisely zero people. So. That's that with that, he guesses.
He went on a date once, but it was more of a dare than anything else.
Choi Jina from math class.
They went to the movies. They did not share popcorn. Jimin kept his hands to himself the entire time, and it obviously did not end with a kiss. It barely ended with a proper goodbye. Both pairs of parents were waiting outside of the theater like four trained hawks the moment he and Jina stepped outside.
Jimin thinks he waved goodnight, but he's not sure. It was all a blur.
Most would rank the date, on a scale of one to ten, a generous three point five. It was awkward, almost to the extent of inflicting physical pain. She didn't talk much, but Jimin doesn't fault her. He didn't have much to say either.
Jimin knew they weren't soulmates, though, so he didn't fret too much. The song in his head played loud and clear the entire time. Sometimes, even louder than the movie itself. As if his brain was taunting him for wasting two hours of his life on a date with someone who isn't his soulmate. He would've plugged his fingers in his ears if that helped. Unfortunately, that only makes it louder.
It's there that Jimin's love life apparently begins and ends. What's weird is, Jimin knows he's a hopeless romantic. Has dreams about kissing the love of his life under the Eiffel Tower and proposing on a bed of roses, type of hopeless romantic. But he consistently doesn't find anyone at school attractive.
And it's there that the problem lies.
And for a long time, Jimin thinks he's broken. His heart or whatever, it must be defective. He convinces himself that maybe he was born without one― at least, a properly working one. And due to that, he isn't particularly interested in any of his classmates.
He's not shallow or naive. Jimin knows when he passes a person society would consider extremely attractive. But the problem is: they never stand out to Jimin, or capture his attention for an extended time. He's never been... infatuated with someone. Never really had a crush, either. He doesn't secretly yearn to give his last name to someone specific.
He wishes he did, though. So that he'd be more like his friends. All they do is talk about the people they like. They go on dates, hook up at parties, and give each other promise rings. And even when they know they're not soulmates, they still make connections with one another.
Jimin doesn't do that.
A quick analysis of the situation had lead Jimin to the same conclusion he had previously ― he was broken. Or at least, that's what he suspected.
Nowadays, Jimin nearly drowns himself in romantic comedies and novels. All in the hopes of something igniting a fire in him that he's almost positive is dead. He just wants to feel something for someone. Something real. Like they do in the movies. The once-in-a-lifetime love that makes them do outlandish things like buying a plane ticket to the other side of the world, or risking pneumonia just to make out in the pouring rain.
Most people, Jimin guesses, would think having something as definitive as a matching song playing between two soulmates would make things easier. But it doesn't. All it does is remind Jimin of just how many people there are in the world. And concerning that, just how small South Korea is in relation.
What if the love of Jimin's life lives in like... Canada? How the hell is he supposed to make it all the way to North America just to find out? This worldwide game of match seems both unfair and impossible. As far as Jimin can tell, the odds are painfully not in his favor.
Deep down, Jimin knows it's not impossible. He's well aware people actually do find their soulmate. Those lucky bastards.
His parents, for example, met when Jimin's father was twenty-one, and Jimin's mother was newly nineteen. From the way his father tells the story, the two of them met in a library. Which is ironic considering Jimin's father despises reading.
He was searching for a recipe book to surprise his mother with an elegant breakfast for her birthday. She was searching up the best places to travel. And then bam, the two of them had crossed paths.
Their worlds had collided on the second floor. Literally.
Jimin's father, with his nose buried in the book, bumped into his mother. He was much bigger than her, even back then, and she had stumbled to the carpeted ground.
And Jimin knows for a fact he must get his temper and boldness from his mother because this is the part of the story where she vows she would've given him a black eye if it weren't for the deafening silence in her head. The eerie, almost terrifying type of nothingness that she was unfamiliar with but immediately knew the meaning of.
Despite that story being told to him a billion and one times growing up, Jimin knows not just everyone meets their soulmate at the library one random afternoon. Some people have to work for it. Like, really work for it. Date after date, disappointment after disappointment, repeating song after repeating song.
Possibly, Jimin's a little too young to say this, but the song is beginning to feel more like a taut than a motivator. He knows for a fact he's overdramatic, but at sixteen, he's allowed to treat every minor inconvenience in his life as a catastrophe.
Falling in love, or lack thereof, isn't just a minor inconvenience, though. It's without a doubt, one hundred percent, life-altering. Sometimes Jimin lies awake late at night, stares at the ceiling, and imagines what it'd be like in fifty years if he still hasn't found his soulmate. Pretty pathetic.
It seems like a paradox, but Jimin misses his soulmate even though he hasn't met them yet. He misses all the things they could be to him, and the way they'd make him feel, and the love he'd continue to grow for them.
The only time Jimin can keep his mind off of his future soulmate and their impending beautiful life together is when he's dancing. In the studio, moving his body correctly to the rhythm is the only thought occupying his mind. Over and over, Jimin's brain keeps time― one and two and three and four― until it's all he can think of.
It's so easy for Jimin to get lost in the dance moves. The studio is his second home, and sometimes his parents have to call him over and over just to get him to come home. If he could, Jimin would sleep at the dance studio. Just so he could practice until he's absolutely spent, nap, and then practice again.
As a perfectionist, Jimin knows he's a little hard on himself. Very a little hard on himself. When it comes to everything else, Jimin is easy to please. But when it comes to critiquing his own dancing skills, he's harsh.
Overly analytical, Jimin's eyes transform into some form of tunnel vision and hyperfocus on every little mistake he makes while dancing. His instructor and dance mates urge him to lighten up, to cut himself some slack, but Jimin's determined to make dancing his career when he's older. And no one ever became the best at something by cutting slack.
And for the most part, on most days, Jimin's mind is occupied with memorizing choreography. Typically, he comes home from school and immediately heads to the studio to practice. While there, the only thoughts that cross his mind repeatedly are the ones needed to improve his craft.
But sometimes, Jimin can't help it, and he finds himself wondering if his soulmate likes to dance, too. They must, right? That's how this thing works? If it's vital to Jimin, it would naturally be valuable to them as well. At least, that's what Jimin figures. He makes a mental note to ask his parents how much their passions overlap to test the likelihood of his hypothesis.
Often, that one thought snowballs until a string of questions about his soulmate. He wonders if they like math because he likes maths and if they like music. He wonders if they have the same sense of humor as him, or maybe they're the opposites attract type of couple. Jimin contemplates if they like seafood, because he can't stand it, and doesn't think he could pretend to for someone else. He wonders if they'll like art and comic books, and people the same way he does.
Most of all, he wonders if they'll be careful. Perhaps careful is an odd word for most, but Jimin's serious. Careful with the way they love him. Careful with the way they'll kiss him. Careful with the way they plan for their adjoined lives to unfold.
He hopes they're calculating and introspective. He hopes they're gentle and compassionate. He hopes they like animals. But god, he really, really, really hopes they like dancing.
Perhaps, Jimin is a bit too picky, and that's why he hasn't encountered his soulmate yet. But he can't fathom that he's the only person on the planet that speculates about their supposed perfect match. It could be anyone, and he could meet them anywhere. Truthfully, it's hard not to ponder.
Jimin can't decide if it's for better or worse that he knows his soulmate isn't anyone in his dance class, and he's almost positive it isn't anyone at school either. He'd love for his soulmate to share his passion for dancing, or selfishly have the convenience of being high school sweethearts. But he guesses both of those options aren't in the cards for him.
Maybe the old tale is wrong. Perhaps Jimin doesn't have a soulmate out there.
Just his luck to be the only person on the planet deemed to be alone for a lifetime.
✢
On repeat in his head, day after day, minute after minute, is Sunday Morning by Maroon 5. Figures he'd get a song not even in his native language.
Jimin doesn't mean to complain, but he can't even begin to explain the confusion he had as a kid with this tune in his head but being unable to comprehend the words. Not to be a sore loser, but Jimin's parents' soulmate song is in Korean, so why the hell isn't his? Maybe it's a sign that his soulmate is in America. And again... figures.
It's not that Jimin minds hard work, but when he thinks about the fact that he had to look up the translated lyrics of his song versus all of his friends that had the luxury of instantly understanding theirs makes him a little jealous. A similar type of jealousy he gets when he sees couples on the street. He just wants to be as happy as them.
Nowadays, Jimin has the entire song memorized. Honestly, it's impossible not to. But he's proud of himself for knowing a whole song in a different language. Granted, it continually plays in his head. But that's a technicality beyond Jimin's control. Jimin doesn't care about technicalities.
And frequently, just like everyone else in the world, Jimin unconsciously hums or sings his song. Like a mating call of some sort. As if one day he'll be walking through the mall mumble-singing, "Sunday morning rain is falling," and a random stranger will mumble-sing back, "Steal some covers, share some skin," and voilà, the mystery is solved!
If only it were that easy.
If only all soulmates literally knocked into each other as his parents did.
Jimin's guilty of trying, though. He intentionally sings his song a bit louder on crowded buses and trains and hums it a bit harder when he's in quiet spaces like libraries and museums. Jimin deliberately knocks shoulders with random strangers he passes on the street, hoping one day the song will stop and he'll have all the answers he needs.
So far, no luck. But maybe one day. And that little sliver of hope keeps Jimin singing.
✢
Just like his father, Jimin's a risk-taker. So it's no surprise that he's the first parent to back Jimin when he comes to them with a radical and seemingly whimsical proposition.
Shifting his gaze to look them both in the eye, Jimin tells them calmly, "I wanna audition for BigHit."
From across the table, they both stare at him almost blankly. Suddenly the analog clock on the wall ticks torturously loud, keeping track of the seconds as they pass. There's a knot in Jimin's throat, and his palms begin to dampen. Nervously, Jimin wipes them on his jeans as he waits patiently for either of his parents to respond.
His mother speaks first. She has a question. "What exactly is... BigHit?"
Her eyebrow raises with her tone of voice as she asks. Immediately, she glances to her right to look at her husband as if silently asking him if he was familiar with the name. He isn't, and therefore refocuses his attention on Jimin.
But before Jimin can answer, his father offers, "Is that a play at school?"
If it weren't absolutely rude, Jimin would facepalm right at the dining room table at how out of touch his parents are with the current happenings of the world.
Patiently, Jimin explains, "No, it's a company. An idol company. A new one and they're hosting auditions next week." He swallows hard, softens his eyes, and says like a request, "I'd like to go tryout."
Silence follows, but Jimin hears his parents' wheels turning. He tries not to rock in his seat, but it's a challenge. Typically, Jimin isn't nervous when it comes to speaking to his parents. But it's not every day he's asking their blessing to potentially change his whole life. Understandably, he's much more of a fidget now than he is when asking for permission to stay out late or sleepover at a friend's house.
"Tryout?" his mother parrots, uncertainty already seeping into her voice.
And his father, already a little more in his favor, asks instead, "Are you sure this is what you want?"
Responding strategically, Jimin looks at his father and says, "I'm sure. I want to dance. It's all I want."
Again, his parents share a glance. Jimin isn't sure how to interpret it. They don't do much with their face other than glimmer their eyes and slightly twitch their eyebrow. But it must mean something to them because when they face back toward Jimin, he can feel a change.
"When's the tryout?" his father asks.
Jimin's heart starts to race.
"Friday," he informs them. "I can take the bus there, you won't even have to drive me."
There's a faint smile on his father's face when he asks again, like giving Jimin a lie detector test, "And you're sure this is what you want? This could be a big deal, Jimin."
But Jimin's more than aware of that. He's already made multiple pros and cons lists. He's weighed his options. He's thought about what it would mean if they rejected him, and also what it would entail on the off chance they didn't reject him. He knows this is a big deal, and he knows this has the potential to change his life. That's exactly what Jimin wants. He's itching for a different life.
With as much sincerity as he can muster, Jimin leans forward and says, "You know dancing is the only thing I love. It's all I do. It's the only thing I'm good at. And I wanna dance on stage. In front of as many people who will give me a chance to show them my talent. I really, really want to try."
Subtly, Jimin takes notice of his father nodding. He rubs his wife's back, as if attempting to ease away her worry, and tells Jimin sternly, "It's not the only thing you're good at, son. But I respect you for following your dream."
Jimin blinks hard. This can't be real. Jimin's father's response is definitely the beginning stages of a yes. Under the table, Jimin begins to bounce his leg excitedly.
Silence returns for a moment. Jimin's afraid if he speaks, he'll say something that will change his mind. He figures this is the best time to stay quiet until given a solidified answer.
Rubbing his chin, Jimin's father asks, "This Friday, huh?"
With his eyes expanding, Jimin leans forward and nods his head. In the attempt to contain himself, Jimin bites the inside of his lip. He manages out, "Uh-huh."
This time, when his parents exchange glances, Jimin feels he has a bit of insight on what they're communicating to each other. Their expressions sync up. When they look at Jimin again, he knows they've made their decision. He holds his breath.
"Friday," Jimin's father repeats again. He reaches across the table for Jimin's hand. With all of the support in the world, he follows up with, "I'll drive you."
✢
Typically, Jimin doesn't believe in miracles. He tries not to leave his life up to chance and fate. Moreover, he believes that good things happen to good people after a reasonable amount of hard work and dedication. He believes in intent. At least, that's what his father has always told him.
"Soon, son," he'd say. "You'll get to reap the fruits of your labor." And naturally, Jimin accepted that mindset.
But today, Jimin thinks it's fair to say he's experienced a miracle.
He's just gotten off the phone with an agency representative that's made him aware that they want him. BigHit. They want him. According to the man on the phone, their team has intensively reviewed all of their candidates, and they'd like him to be one of their trainees. And potentially, he could debut.
Jimin was shellshocked; frozen so long on the phone the man on the other end thought they'd been disconnected and questioned, "Hello? Jimin? Hello?" into the phone over and over for a few solid seconds until Jimin's brain was able to restart.
Mentally shaking himself, Jimin had promised the man he was still on the line and then accepted the offer as soon as he could get his mouth to work correctly. The conversation finished quickly after that.
Jimin had been assured that the company had his address and phone number on file. He promised Jimin he'd receive more information in the mail and a stack of papers that needed to be signed by his parents.
"Of course, of course," Jimin had said back excitedly. "They'll sign them, I promise."
And with that, he was congratulated once again before the line went dead for real.
He was buzzing with excitement and happiness. So much so that he jumped up and down around his living room for a few minutes. With his cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling so much and his eyes nearly welling up with happy tears, Jimin sprinted to go find his parents.
I have great news, Jimin rehearses giddily in his head as he jogs up the stairs, I'm going to be an idol.
✢
Perhaps Jimin is overzealous, but promising himself and his parents that he's going to be an idol is the only thing that kept him motivated during the six month lull period.
For six months, Jimin was left with the still buzzing, but secretly dulling anticipation of being BigHit's newest acceptee. Because in that time, Jimin began to doubt himself. He wondered if the wait was intentionally prolonged due to the company having second thoughts. Jimin wondered if they found someone else and would revoke their acceptance letter and replace it with a rejection one instead.
"But I'm going to be an idol," Jimin would tell himself quietly in his room in the middle of the night. And without realizing it, that phrase began to take over his previous mantra of, "I'm going to find my soulmate."
Priorities.
Despite the wait, just as promised, another letter came in the mail. The return address was stamped with an official BigHit Entertainment emblem, and when Jimin spotted that, his heart began beating three times as fast.
The letter had congratulated him once again and informed him of his scheduled move-in date to the dorms. All the way in Seoul. 325 kilometers away.
Trading his anxiety and ambivalence for anticipation and appeasement, Jimin presented his parents with his follow-up letter. His mother cried. His father did too, but he was better at hiding it. And even Jimin's litter brother cried.
By this time next week, Jimin's new home would be the trainee dorms.
Jimin got precisely what he wished for. A brand new life.
✢
There's absolute chaos in the dorms when Jimin enters. Loud music and a lot more boys than Jimin had thought there'd be. They all seem acclimated; clearly, everyone else has arrived at an earlier time than him. Weeks, maybe even months before.
Somehow, he already feels at a disadvantage. Back home, Jimin is popular. A big fish in a little pond. But here? It's definitely the opposite. Jimin's immediately aware that he's now a little fish in a big pond. All of these boys laughing and joking with each other might possibly become his friends, but they're also his competition.
"Namjoon-ah!" a loud voice calls from someone to Jimin's left. Without thinking, Jimin follows the sound and then the direction of his call. The voice adds with a bit of an amused laugh, "We got a newbie!"
A boy with a thin frame, taller than Jimin, with a contagious smile and tanned skin, is standing in front of him. He's wearing a black Nike hat, skinny jeans, and a graphic t-shirt with a character Jimin doesn't recognize. His eyes are intimidating, but his smile is friendly. So Jimin smiles back.
"What's your name?" the boy asks just as another boy―Namjoon, Jimin guesses― approaches as well.
And if Jimin's honest, he doesn't seem quite as welcoming. Not at first. But it might be because Jimin can't see his eyes behind his gigantic sunglasses. They're decorated at the hinges with an American dollar sign that's clearly spraypainted gold to look more expensive. He's wearing a black and gold American football jersey to match, his hair is curly, and he's got enough bracelets on to make Jimin's wrists feel heavy by just looking at them.
"Um," Jimin says emptily. He bows, just slightly, in case this is a situation where he should be formal. Then he adds, "I'm Park Jimin."
Quickly, Jimin learns that the lanky one is named Hoseok, nicknamed J-Hope, and the one with the sunglasses on inside is Namjoon, who goes by the stage name of Rap Monster. Both born in '94. Technically, they're Jimin's hyungs now. It feels kind of weird considering that back home, he's the oldest. Already, he has to adjust.
Another boy by the name of Yoongi tags along when the two of them offer to show Jimin to his room. A shared room with bunk beds and already two other boys, he's warned. With the other babies. He knows they're only joking, considering the three of them are older, but the categorization makes him furrow his eyebrows for a minute. He wants to cross his arms and tell the three of them he's not a baby, but he suppresses his urge.
Despite that, he continues to follow the trio. Jimin attempts to be observant, but everything is a blur. The hallway is dim, pictures are aligning the wall with unfamiliar faces. They pass closed door after closed door until they approach one at the end of the hall and―
"Jesus Christ, Taehyung!" Namjoon scolds, spinning around immediately like whatever he's looking at inside the room is frightening. His reaction makes Hoseok laugh loudly, doubling over. Yoongi laughs as well, but much quieter.
Standing on his tiptoes, Jimin peers over their shoulders and into the room. Interest gets the best of him, and he can't resist.
Laying in the middle of the bed with nothing more on than bright red boxers is a boy equally as lanky as Hoseok with curious, big eyes and a signature smile.
His response is signature as well. He rolls over and shoots back with a laugh, "Hyung, you're in my room!"
There's a rowdy interaction that ensues then. The three older members remind Taehyung in loud but playful voices that he lives with other people and should be mindful of keeping his clothes on. Taehyung combats their criticism with a theory about free will from a philosopher's conjecture Jimin is unfamiliar with as well.
Jimin stands there, shocked. He blinks every so often, attempting to soak in all that's happening right now. But then it's over as quickly as it began. Before Jimin knows it, Namjoon is slamming the door shut, yelling at Taehyung through the door to at least put on some pants.
When the three of them turn their attention back to Jimin, they're all smiling at him sheepishly.
"Sorry about that," Namjoon says with a giggle. "He likes to be naked. We're... working on him."
"It's a team effort," Yoongi adds in, giggling as well.
Next, Hoseok speaks. He gently nudges Jimin's shoulder and says, "If you didn't catch on, that's Taehyung."
Jimin's still frozen. He can't speak.
"Congratulations," Hoseok says. "He's your roommate."
And Jimin knows there's a hint of sarcasm in his voice, implying that Taehyung can be more than a handful at times, but Jimin barely comprehends it. His mind is too busy racing. He doesn't care what they're saying.
"Jeongguk is also your roommate," Namjoon chimes in. "Don't worry, he likes to keep his clothes on."
The three of them laugh again. Before departing, the three older boys advise Jimin to wait a few minutes and then attempt to enter again. Taehyung should have some form of clothes on by then, they assume. No promises, though, they are cautious in adding.
As they walk away, their giggles echo in the hallway. But not nearly as loud as the newfound silence in Jimin's head.
Jimin's heart stops and simultaneously beats at highspeed.
His head. It's quiet.
The song's stopped.
Taehyung?
Jimin feels like he's going to explode. Or maybe implode because he feels his insides melting.
Congratulations, Hoseok's voice replays in Jimin's head. He's your roommate.
But this time around, it sounds a whole lot like, "Congratulations. He's your soulmate."
Jimin doesn't bother knocking, he barges back into the room.
✢
"Did you...?" Taehyung's voice trails off apprehensively.
He and Jimin are sitting criss-cross on the bed, knees touching, hunched forward toward each other. There's something indescribably familiar about him. His face. His hair. His smile. Like Jimin's been dreaming about him his entire life and hasn't realized it until just now.
Jimin swears there's a type of electricity or magnetism or fire in the space between them, tempting them forward. He just wants to be close to him. He wants to hug him.
With his fingers shaking, Taehyung reaches out and touches Jimin's temple.
It feels nice, Jimin doesn't pull away.
Softly, Taehyung asks like he can't believe it, "It stopped for you too?"
Smiling a bit wildly, Jimin nods. His hair sweeps over Taehyung's fingers in the process.
The lump in Jimin's throat is back, but this time, it's not scary. He's nervous, but he's excited. He's hopeful.
He's happy.
"Ha," Taehyung says cutely. Like he's cracked a riddle or solved a puzzle. He smiles, holds out his hand, and says, "It's nice to meet you, Jimin."
Jimin takes his hand, and a comforting type of warmness floods his body. He knows Taehyung feels it too.
"It's nice to meet you, too, Taehyung."
They could let go of each other's hands, but they don't. Something about Taehyung's fingers intertwining with his is therapeutic. Soothing.
Jimin is 325 kilometers away from his parents and the house he grew up in. His family isn't here, nor are his friends. But somehow, Jimin feels right at home.
✢
Learning Taehyung is easy. It's like remembering something Jimin already knew but forgot from a long time ago.
Some of Taehyung's answers and stories shock Jimin. Like when he tells Jimin he grew up on a strawberry farm with his grandparents. Or when he tells Jimin he knows how to play the saxophone and actually auditioned with it. Or when he tells Jimin he's almost positive he has a nearly eidetic memory.
But some of Taehyung's answers are what Jimin expects.
Taehyung enjoys art and comic books. Taehyung likes to go on walks, and he loves movies. As expected, Taehyung absolutely adores his family, and animals, and nature. Taehyung likes mangoes and seafood, but that's okay. He tells Jimin he's indifferent to math, but Jimin's welcome to do his math homework for him if he ever needs an extra fix. Taehyung's funny. Taehyung's smile is instantly Jimin's favorite smile in the world. Taehyung's perfect.
And the cherry on top? Taehyung loves to dance. He promises to show Jimin the dance studio first thing tomorrow morning.
Jimin can't wait to call his father and tell him he met his soulmate. And even better, Jimin's certain his and Taehyung's first meeting story beats his parents' story.
Soulmates meeting in a library is boring compared to meeting in a dorm room with one of them half-naked.
✢
"Jeonggukie and I are gonna sleep in the living room tonight," Taehyung informs Jimin softly as he watches Jimin attempt to make himself comfortable on his new bed.
Understandably, Jimin's eyebrow raises suspiciously.
Taehyung smiles and holds out his hand for Jimin to walk across the room to take. Jimin's brain is on autopilot as he walks across the carpet to do so. Taehyung makes him do things he usually doesn't do but in the best way. He makes him feel comfortable enough to step out of his comfort zone a little bit.
"There's more space there," Taehyung explains. "For the three of us. I know it sounds funny but... the couch actually has a lot of room, and it's softer than the bunk beds."
And again, Jimin doesn't do this. He doesn't cuddle with two near-perfect strangers on the first night he meets them. Disregarding Taehyung being his soulmate, Jimin can easily comprehend how weird this might seem.
Sensing Jimin's weariness, Taehyung rubs his thumb over the back of Jimin's hand to offer comfort and unity.
He grins at Jimin, breathes out softly through his nose, and tells him, "If you don't like it, you can come back in here to sleep, okay? But maybe... come try with us?" He breaks out his puppy eyes Jimin's learning he's no match for and adds, "For me?"
It doesn't take much more than that. Before Jimin knows it, he's squished on a large gray sofa with Taehyung and Jeongguk.
Jeongguk is shy, and that makes Jimin want to step up and make him feel safe, even though he's just met him. But Jeongguk is the youngest in the house, roughly two years younger than Jimin, and consistently looks like a deer in headlights. Except for when he's with Taehyung. Then he's all smiles and loud talking.
Quickly, Jimin's learning Taehyung's got a natural talent for making people feel secure and protected. By nature, he's inviting. And part of his charm is how welcoming he is. Taehyung is cuddly and clingy in the cutest way and it's impossible to resist or reject.
The three of them play video games together until their eyes can barely stay open anymore. Then, with Taehyung's lead, head to the sofa to sleep.
And Taehyung's right, it's big enough for the three of them. Barely. But it's definitely softer than the mattress Jimin's been assigned. It's a wonder how effortlessly Jimin becomes comfortable enough to begin to drift off to sleep.
With his arms around Taehyung, Jimin buries his nose into Taehyung's hair, breathing in his shampoo. Taehyung has a unique type of scent ― like vanilla and fresh air and love. It's aromatherapy aids Jimin into the beginning stages of slumber.
Just as Jimin's drifting off, he hears Taehyung singing in a whisper, "I would gladly hit the road, get up and go if I knew..."
And Jimin, as naturally as he breathes, sings back equally as soft, "That someday it would lead me back to you."
He doesn't need to open his eyes to know Taehyung's smiling. Inside his chest, Jimin's heart is glowing with contentment. He doesn't know how else to describe it, but he and Taehyung fit like puzzle pieces.
Before he drifts off to sleep for good, Jimin glances at the clock.
3:41 a.m. It's Sunday now.
Happily, Jimin thinks to himself, figures.
✢
And for the record, Taehyung's careful with him, just like Jimin's always wished for.
Careful with the way he introduces Jimin to people, knowing he's still adjusting. Careful with the way he takes his hand when he knows Jimin needs a little help. Careful with the way he invites him to join things, understanding Jimin's still new and sometimes might need time alone.
He's careful with giving him space, and careful with the way he hugs him. He's careful when they cuddle, pressing himself against Jimin until Jimin pets through his hair. And when Taehyung learns Jimin's never kissed anyone before, he's careful with the way their lips brush, making sure Jimin's okay. And he is, Jimin's never been more okay in his entire life.
Taehyung's careful with the way he shows Jimin the dance studio, their new school, and the important places to know in Seoul. Jimin's mentor and tour guide and best friend.
Most importantly, Taehyung's careful with Jimin's heart, knowing he holds it in his hands.
But Jimin's not worried. He's never trusted anyone more in his entire life than he trusts Taehyung.
He couldn't have handpicked a better person in the world than Taehyung to be his soulmate.