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Even back when they were younger, Jungkook had always loved the color red.
"Red is for passion," Jungkook said when they were asked back in middle school what their favorite color was.
"And what's the use of living when you don't have passion for anything? I'd rather die than live without passion." he had said then, so resolutely, that Taehyung felt so inclined to believe his best friend—to believe that along with all these principles they always tried to live by, a better life would be out there somewhere, at the end of the turn of the road.
Red was for blood, for war: but it was also for life, for bravery—he learned this while skimming through art books, looking at pictures and colors and the meanings behind them. Red was for the tiny licks of courage that turned into blazing fires of determination, fuelled by shouts and yells of cheer. Red was for love—romantic, ardent, filled with so much passion, it could consume you. Red colored in the hearts of people whose love could destroy a whole empire, or raise it back up from the ashes.
And back then, Taehyung had loved it too—he'd learned to love the beauty of roses, even when they had thorns surrounding them; learned to love the uneven paper cut-outs shaped as hearts that he would help his mom cut up and hang up around the cafe during Valentine’s; learned to love the way Jungkook's face would turn red from laughing so much whenever they hung out; learned to love the tinge of red that colored his high school crush's cheeks when he gave her a flower on what felt like a fateful day in February; learned to love the red string looped around his pinkie finger, knowing that someday, he'll find happiness in the arms of someone the way his father and mother found happiness in each other's presence.
Except on a day that was supposed to be just like the other days, Taehyung gets a sickening feeling in his stomach—like he's eaten something bad that day, and his insides are starting to protest.
Taehyung had believed so much then of the stories that his parents told him—about how, out there, in a vast ocean of people, was a person that was meant just for you; connected to you by a flimsy red string that looked as fragile as a thin thread but was as intangible as dreams; that when you finally meet that person, you would finally feel everything fall into place. And finally feel complete.
But he couldn't have that anymore—not when the string looped on his finger begins to fade and turns into a dull red, thinning, until what's left of it is only a small knot of thread near where it's tied around Taehyung's finger, its ends frayed.
Not now, probably not ever.
Taehyung had pretended it was nothing—pretended that he only had a stomachache when his teacher asked him if he wasn’t feeling well; pretended that it didn’t hurt that much when Jungkook accompanied him to the infirmary and asked how he was holding up; pretended that nothing was wrong with him and that everything was still the same.
He closed his eyes and stamped down screams of pain as he felt something inside him get ripped to shreds. All he saw was red.
It was difficult to forget because of his gift—this gift that feels more and more like a curse every time he catches sight of the red threads around his parents' fingers, or Jungkook's, or his sister's or brother's.
Whenever he sees the red threads around other peoples' fingers, he feels a pang of sadness rise up his chest, knowing that he can't have what they do. That unlike them, he never will find his soul mate.
Red was still Jungkook's favorite color even when they were in their senior year in high school. But then at that time, Taehyung had started to hate it—he hated every single thing that resembled it, because even though time healed wounds, it was hard to forget when he could still feel the scabs from the wounds left by reality over his skin, itching, taunting him to pick at it again and again.
It was hard to forget when he looked at his hands and saw that single dull red string tied around his pinkie finger, devoid of the glimmer that it used to have, its end cut off and frayed instead of going on and on until he can't see the end of it.
Time healed wounds, but they left scabs. And Taehyung, for all his habit’s gory fashion, would always pick at these scabs--look at his fingers, and feel a stabbing pain in his chest whenever he sees the frayed ends.
His soulmate had died: that was the only answer there was to offer. There had been a few consultations, but they seemed lackluster to Taehyung because he already knew what they were going to say. No more high-rising hopes about love, or dreams of wishing upon stars with his soulmate.
It took some time for things to be alright, but Taehyung turned out to be alright. The color red started to go back to neutral ground for him. There wasn’t hatred, or pain. Just a faint tingling feeling that reminded him that somehow, it mattered to him before.
Time healed wounds, and soon the scabs turned into scars. Curiously enough, Taehyung couldn’t see the thread on his finger anymore, despite the doctors telling him that he should still be able to see it because it was, in their words, just a “severed connection”. But it was alright--Taehyung learned to never look at his hands again, or other peoples’ for that matter.
Though in the times when he accidentally would, caught in his periphery or when he’s simply lost in thought, there’s nothing. Just a dull, thudding, his heart still pounding normally in his chest.
Taehyung was “back to normal” before anyone could ask him again why he didn’t seem like himself the past few months. He smiled, and waved at people with a grin, and found himself less likely to stare off into the distance. His parents stopped worrying, and his siblings stopped giving him long hugs that bore the weight of a child that understood a lot but didn’t say anything, and went back to teasing him again. All was well.
Time heals all wounds , they said. And maybe, despite all the scars, Taehyung thought they were for the best.
Min Yoongi is completely unlike Taehyung; the latter knows of this the very first time they meet on his first day moving into his college dormitory, so far from home and with Taehyung starting to get just a little bit too homesick a little too soon.
Seoul was a big, big city, and he just can't help but feel a little too small—a little too lonely—trapped in its mazes of skyscrapers and shopping districts. It had been a great relief to him then, when he'd find out from the RA that the person he’ll be rooming with was also from Daegu because now, he could have a little piece of home with him even when it's in the face of someone who he's barely even met. The only problem though, was that he didn’t know how to deal with Yoongi yet.
"Min Yoongi," Yoongi reaches out to take Taehyung's extended hand in a handshake, even though he looks a bit hesitant. Maybe it was because of Taehyung's enthusiasm, or maybe it was the fact that he was wearing such an expensive jacket his mom bought him with her meager savings from her salary from the cafe she works in because she didn't want Taehyung to be made fun of just because he was from the province. Or maybe it was both.
“I’m Taehyung! Kim Taehyung!” Taehyung greets enthusiastically still, because even though people sometimes found his enthusiasm off-putting, it was better to approach everyone with a genuine smile.
Even after the incident of losing his soulmate, life had to go on—even when the stories wouldn’t become true for him, he should at least live his life without regrets; a life to be proud of that he had lived. “I hope we can be friends.”
“Sure, kid.” Yoongi says, letting Taehyung shake his hand one last time before letting his hand fall back to his lap.
And really, the possibility of Taehyung noticing the absence of a glimmer of a thread around Yoongi’s finger was slim, because he had told himself so many times over before not to look at other people’s threads since it only makes him nostalgic of a time that could never be.
Except he does, and his eyes dart to Yoongi’s fingers, now clasped together over his lap.
“Is there something wrong?” Yoongi asks, more of as a polite gesture than as one of genuine concern. His lips thin into discomfort and Taehyung notices that he squirms in his seat a bit, uncomfortable under Taehyung’s gaze.
“Ah, nothing, hyung.” Taehyung shakes his head quickly, easily plastering on that smile that had several people fooled into believing that he doesn’t mind anything getting thrown in his way. “Er, hyung? Is that right? The dorm staff told me that I’m rooming with someone older.”
Yoongi hums, eyes flitting over at Taehyung. Taehyung pretends he doesn’t notice it, but he stiffens in his place when Yoongi gives him a quick once-over. “You’re a freshman, right?”
Taehyung nods, lips stretched to form a straight line, looking serious for once. “Cool,” Yoongi shrugs. “I’m in my third year.”
“Ok,” Taehyung says, and Yoongi blinks at him, as if expecting him to say something else. When he doesn’t, seemingly uncharacteristically serious this time in Yoongi’s eyes, Yoongi clears his throat and nods toward his luggage, most of them blocking the door behind Taehyung.
“You should go unpack, that’s usually the most difficult thing to do for freshmen.” He turns his swivel chair to face his desk once more. “Just tell me if you need anything.”
“Okay,” Taehyung says, and Yoongi covers his ears with headphones, going back to clicking away on whatever’s on his screen. Taehyung’s not familiar with the program, but it reminds him of how the computers in radio stations look like, as he’s seen on TV. “Thank you,” he adds, though he’s sure it’s already lost in the music that’s probably playing through Yoongi’s headphones.
He goes back to his side of the room and starts unpacking.
Yoongi wasn’t a difficult person to live with. No matter how many people have told Taehyung that he was standoffish and seemed to be a snob too, Taehyung knew that the rumors weren’t true.
Yoongi doesn’t really talk much, opting to sit on his desk and work on his laptop with whatever he had going on if he wasn’t away for work or classes. He also had a part time job in the evenings and on Saturdays, so whenever he got home, he looked completely exhausted, dark circles under his eyes while grumbling under his breath.
But he was nice, that much Taehyung was sure of. Whenever he would feel Taehyung glancing over, he’d ask if there was anything wrong, or if Taehyung needed help with his homework.
More often that not, he couldn’t answer Taehyung’s questions (Taehyung understands—not a lot of people can quickly come up with an answer to his wide array of questions that ranged from Calculus formulas to favorite ice cream flavors and the time travel paradox), either ending up in an exasperated sigh or suggesting Taehyung to check out some websites that he used to go through as references when he encountered similar problems. Sometimes though, he answers Taehyung’s questions, no matter how bizarre they might get, before he shrugs and lets it end there.
When Taehyung’s classmates bail on him the day they were supposed to watch the latest installment of a movie series he’s been following, he scours through the contact numbers on his phone. He’s been itching to watch that movie and he doesn’t want to watch it by himself, so when he sees Yoongi’s number, he dares to shoot his shot.
“Sure. Where are you?” Yoongi’s reply reads, and Taehyung just can’t believe his eyes. He didn’t take Yoongi to be a movie fan. “I’m still at the dorm.”
“On my way to the dorm. Meet you there.” Taehyung replies, before putting his phone back in his bag and hiking on his bike. He just finished his shift for his part time job at the school’s administration office and he pedals faster, because he didn’t want to make Yoongi wait for him.
When he arrives, Yoongi is dressed differently from how Taehyung usually sees him around the dorm.
“What?” Yoongi asks when he opens the door to have Taehyung just staring at him. “Something on my face?”
“Nothing, I--” He shakes his head. Yoongi is handsome, he knew this, but in a simple way. Like ‘I grabbed this shirt from my closet without looking but I still look good so it’s okay’ kind of way. Not the ‘everyone loves me and I know you also have the hots for me so let’s see where this goes’ kind of way. For the three months that they’ve been roommates, he only begins to realize now that Yoongi looks this good, hair finally freed from the usual bucket hat or hoodie or beanie. He’s wearing a fitted shirt for once even though it’s still black, and Taehyung realizes that he actually has wide shoulders and a strong-looking chest. “You look happy.”
“It’s a Marvel movie, of course I’m happy.” Yoongi stretches, and even when he’s dressed to kill, Taehyung is somehow reminded of a cute baby cat stretching and mewling.
Taehyung gets the tickets from his drawer and is about to hand one to Yoongi when he turns around and realizes belatedly that Yoongi is already standing beside him, grinning and looking chipper than usual. “Thanks for the treat.” He says, taking a ticket from Taehyung’s hand. Yoongi is wearing light makeup and Taehyung finds himself staring at Yoongi’s glossy lips longer than he would have allowed himself.
“Seriously. Did something happen?” He asks to fill in the awkward silence while he’s rummaging through his drawer to change into better clothes.
“Well, I finally turned my projects in and those went well, so I’m free for the time being.” Yoongi declares, and Taehyung could feel Yoongi’s eyes on him while he’s changing into a different shirt.
“ Projects?” Taehyung asks incredulously. “You were working on more than one?”
“What, you think they’d be nice enough to assign just one project for a month?” Yoongi shakes his head. “Ah, I really do miss being a freshman.”
Yoongi is quiet the entire movie, concentrating on the screen but nodding along to whatever Taehyung says to show that he’s listening. He isn’t really like most of Taehyung’s friends, but Taehyung appreciates Yoongi’s companionship.
“Don’t you have any friends?” Taehyung finds the courage to ask Yoongi while they’re eating. Yoongi stops mid-chew, giving Taehyung a puzzled look. He’s about to backtrack, belatedly realizing that his question came out wrong and he’s offended Yoongi, but then Yoongi speaks.
“I do. But we’re all busy.” Taehyung notices that Yoongi would take little servings of pasta and by the time Taehyung’s on his second burger, Yoongi’s still in the middle of alternating between his pasta and drinking coffee. “We always talk to each other online though.”
Taehyung thinks about how Yoongi’s always busy working part time and on his projects but still finds time to take a chat with his friends, and realizes he himself hasn’t really kept in touch with Jungkook since starting college. That’s probably something he should change starting now.
“Can I hang out with you guys when you’re not busy?” Taehyung asks. He realizes he honestly wants to get to know Yoongi more than the surface level. “I mean, I don’t really know a lot of students aside from my you and my coursemates so I--”
“Of course.” Yoongi says, trying to make it sound like it’s not a big deal, but Taehyung thanks him profusely. Yoongi’s friends are probably as nice as him, so Taehyung’s excited to meet them.
The queasy feeling in his stomach feels familiar, and yet Taehyung wouldn’t believe himself.
He runs to the bathroom in such a hurry that he accidentally hits his foot on the door when he opens it, and he curses loudly, limping as he enters.
He takes a seat on the covered toilet seat, clutching his stomach. He tries to hum to distract himself from the pain, but he could feel it growing, crawling up his lungs until he can’t breathe properly.
He doubles over in pain, one hand on his stomach and another on the door. His vision is starting to get blurry, and he thought, “Is this just how it will end?”
And then it was gone in a moment, as if he’s only imagined that kind of crippling pain.
He sits up straighter and looks around. Nothing around him has changed.
But when he looks at his hands, the red string tied around his finger begins to glow a bright red, its frayed ends moving as if being pulled about by an invisible force.
“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” Comes the concerned voice of Yoongi. He must have woken up when Taehyung ran to the bathroom.
There’s knocking on the door when Taehyung doesn’t answer, instead covering his ears with his hands, hoping that Yoongi will just go away and leave him alone.
“What does this even mean?” Taehyung asks himself. His soulmate had died--he was sure of it, because he felt it. Is there even such a thing as a miracle that could make you have a new soulmate?
“Taehyung, this isn’t working.” He hears Yoongi grumble on the other side of the door, and there’s shuffling before he hears Yoongi’s voice—louder this time, as if he’s pressing himself against the bathroom door. “Dude, I gotta piss. Let me in.”
“It’s probably a mistake,” Taehyung thinks. Having a soulmate meant that there was someone tied to your soul forever. And if that person was gone, you’d lose that part of yourself forever.
But why did he want to hold on to that part of himself that hoped that somewhere out there, he has a new soulmate that is alive and well, and could possibly be the person that he is meant to be with?
“Taehyung?” Yoongi’s voice sounds softer now, unsure. Like he’s checking to see if he’s crossed any boundaries. He goes quiet for a moment that Taehyung thinks he left, but he seemed to be still right outside the door, waiting. Taehyung takes a moment to pep talk himself through it. It’s not like something like this hasn’t happened before.
“Sorry hyung, I had a stomach ache.” He says when he opens the door. Yoongi stares at him, eyes wide and face pale like he’s just seen a ghost. “What’s wrong?”
“Can I see your hand?” Yoongi asks, voice shaky.
Taehyung bites his lip. “Why?”
“Please, just let me take a look at your hand.” Yoongi pleads. Taehyung’s never seen him like this before--he was always calm and collected, almost always quietly working on his side of the room and rarely taking breaks.
He puts his hand forward, palm up. The red string glows brightly, looking like a misplaced ring around his pinkie finger.
Yoongi stares at Taehyung’s hand and swallows a lump on his throat. He puts his hand forward too, and puts it on top of Taehyung’s hand.
Yoongi’s hand is cold, and Taehyung almost flinches away from his touch. But he stays still, caught off-guard by the sudden splash of color on Yoongi’s pale hand.
On Yoongi’s pinkie finger, a string that Taehyung was pretty sure was also dulled when they first met is now starting to glow a bright red.
Taehyung gasps. What feels like disbelief and excitement starts to bubble in his chest. “Are you….are you my soulmate?”
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Yoongi gives Taehyung that same look when they first went to the movies together, suddenly self-conscious.
Taehyung looks down for a moment, feeling his cheeks getting hotter. Has he really been staring for so long that it made Yoongi uncomfortable? “Nothing just… Thinking how this happened.”
“You can ask me anything, you know.” Yoongi’s just stabbing his ice cream with a spoon, but Taehyung understands the feeling. He’s feeling too queasy to eat right now that even though he would have scarfed down the burger and fries set meal in front of him before, it’s left untouched now.
Taehyung licks his lips nervously. He knows Yoongi’s nice, but there might be some topics that are quite sensitive to him so he doesn’t want to pry too much if Yoongi wouldn’t let him. “Did you meet your old soulmate?”
“She was someone I went to school with.” Yoongi presses his lips together. “I didn’t really know her much, she just transferred to our high school and she was from a different section.”
“She got into an accident?” Taehyung asks, his voice quieter this time.
“Yeah.” Yoongi shakes his head as if to chase the memory away. He sounds like he’s trying to be nonchalant about it, but Taehyung could tell he is still affected by it somehow, even if it was in the past. “Yours?”
Taehyung blinks. “My what?”
“Your soulmate. Have you ever met them?”
“Uhm.” Taehyung laughs awkwardly. “I never really got to…”
“Oh.” There’s a look of concern on Yoongi’s face, hand awkwardly paused in front of him as if he’s going to reach out to Taehyung.
“Don’t worry, it’s all in the past now.” Taehyung brushes it off, but he knows it’s not completely the truth. Because thinking about it still somehow makes him feel a bit bitter. Yoongi’s hand hovers a bit before he goes back to stabbing at the ice cream with a spoon. “But how is it possible that this happened to us? And how are we really sure that we’re actually soulmates?”
Yoongi is quiet for a moment, looking pensive as he finally takes a spoonful from his ice cream and eats it. “This isn’t the first time this happened to anyone.” He says, pointing the spoon at Taehyung.
“Really? I’ve never seen it in the news.”
“Nobody really talks about it much.” Yoongi says, continuing to eat his ice cream. “It’s something short of miracle to be honest, since it happens so rarely.” Taehyung looks down at his own meal and back at Yoongi, who looks like he’s starting to feel better. Whether it’s because of the ice cream or by Taehyung’s presence, Taehyung is yet to find out.
“You’re not weirded out by this?” Taehyung gestures to the both of them. Yoongi gives it a thought.
“What? That we’re roommates?”
Taehyung sinks in his seat. Now that he’s said it out loud, it does kind of sound silly. “Kind of.”
“Whatever happens, happens.” Yoongi shrugs and goes back to eating. “There are platonic soulmates, you know.”
“I know but…” But what if I don’t want to be platonic soulmates? Was a question that started to bud at Taehyung’s lips, but he bites back his tongue and doesn’t say it.
“We don’t need to rush things.” This time Yoongi puts his hand on Taehyung’s, giving it a gentle pat. “Let’s take this at our own pace.”
“Okay.” Taehyung says. And even though he isn’t the type of person to find assurance in empty words, he feels comforted by Yoongi’s. Maybe because he sounded so sincere in saying it? Maybe because he looked Taehyung in the eye and made Taehyung feel like everything’s going to turn out to be okay?
“What’s your favorite color?” Taehyung suddenly blurts out, and Yoongi retrieves his hand and goes back to eating. Remembering the fries on the table, Taehyung takes a piece and dips it in Yoongi’s ice cream. Yoongi doesn’t flinch at all, instead opting to take some of Taehyung’s fries to dip it in his ice cream too.
“Black.” He answers, chewing around several pieces of fries stuffed into his mouth.
“Really? Not even an explanation? Not even something mushy to say?” Taehyung teases him.
“Maybe white too, I guess.”
Taehyung scrunches his nose. For an artist, Yoongi can be so basic sometimes. “Okay.”
“Yours?” Yoongi nods at him.
Taehyung looks at his fingers splayed on the table and finds it in himself to finally grin at the sudden turn of events. “Red.”
Taehyung used to hate the color red; despised it, even. It felt like a bunch of mistakes piling up, reminiscent of grim days.
But now he has Yoongi, and with him, red is starting to remind Taehyung of a rose just starting to bud in spring in the middle of a barren field--so new and foreign, and yet full of hope.
When Namjoon extends a hand for him to shake, Taehyung stares a little too long at the string on Namjoon’s finger, a little frayed but still connected to the man beside him who’s beaming at Taehyung. The string is thin, unlike those tying together the other soulmates that Taehyung knows, and yet even without knowing them much yet, Taehyung could sense that their bond is strong. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, just… Surprised, is all.” Taehyung waves it off and shakes Namjoon’s hands. Namjoon’s hand is soft, unlike Yoongi’s calloused ones despite them both being musicians. Taehyung tears his gaze away from Namjoon’s hand so he can take a good, long look at Namjoon’s face. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“I’m Hoseok!” The man beside Namjoon eagerly holds out his hand and Taehyung shakes it, mirroring Hoseok’s smile. There’s just something so heartwarming and genuine about Hoseok’s smile that makes Taehyung feel fond of him right off the bat.
“Let’s go, I’m starving.” Yoongi says, casually throwing an arm around Taehyung. He turns to look at Yoongi, but even when Yoongi isn’t meeting his eye, he could see it in the way Yoongi’s shoulders are tense and the way his ears are turning red that he’s in need of a bit of encouragement.
“You say that and yet you keep eating like a bird.” Taehyung says with a grin, and Yoongi finally meets his look with a scrunched nose.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.” Yoongi tugs him a bit closer, and Taehyung just laughs. Yoongi’s shoulders relax but his ears are still red.
Behind them, he hears Hoseok whisper something to Namjoon and giggle. Something about looking like an old couple.
Taehyung hides his grin and lets himself be dragged away by Yoongi.
It felt so coordinated when Hoseok asked Yoongi to go with him to the souvenir shop, leaving only Namjoon and Taehyung at the park bench. Taehyung twiddles with his fingers nervously, thinking if this is the moment when Namjoon turns on him, anger in his eyes and overprotectiveness in his voice, telling Taehyung to stay away from Yoongi.
“You can see our strings, can’t you?” Taehyung is snapped out of his mental reverie when Namjoon asks him a question, and he looks beside him to see Namjoon hunched over, elbows on his knees as he scans the park, eyes stopping to watch the children running around, chasing each other. Taehyung could see one kid’s string is connected to the other child’s, and wonders what kind of fate will befall the two of them.
He rubs his sweaty palms against his jeans and takes a breath. He should probably just chill. It’s just Namjoon--Yoongi’s closest friend from college. He shouldn’t be too worried, right? “How did you know?”
“I kind of figured…” Namjoon coughs, ending up in lighthearted laughter. “Sorry, I’m kidding, I’m not that good at reading people. Yoongi told me.”
The kids run back off to their parents--two families setting up one picnic blanket and trying to arrange the food so that they’d all fit. Surprisingly, those who are tied by the strings aren’t the ones who look like they’re couples. “Huh.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried. But he was asking me questions and I had to know what made him ask those.” Namjoon explains, and Taehyung shakes his head.
“It’s fine, it’s not like it’s some special ability that could help me alter the future.” He looks down on his hands, where the thinnest of strings is connecting him to Yoongi. The longer they were together, the more visible the string looked like.
He tries to touch it, but his fingers just pass through it. To other people, it’s like an invisible bond that he and Yoongi share. “It’s the same as seeing the world as it is, but with added filters.”
“You say it like that, but seeing the world in that way probably made you have different expectations of what having a soulmate is like.” Namjoon sniffs, rubbing his nose. It’s probably because of the autumn air.
Taehyung thinks about what Namjoon just said. Maybe seeing the brightness of all those red strings has blinded him from what it was like to have a soulmate, versus what it was like to actually like someone for who they are. “Hey,” Taehyung leans back on the bench, remembering Yoongi mentioning one time that Namjoon was one of his closest confidantes. Maybe Namjoon has some nuggets of wisdom for him. “Can I ask you something?”
Namjoon gestures with both hands. “Sure, ask away.”
“I like Yoongi hyung. But I’m not sure if I like him romantically, or platonically. Or if I like him for him, or if I liked him because of the fact that we’re soulmates.” Taehyung fiddles with his fingers as he always does when he’s nervous. He waits and waits, and waits for Namjoon’s answer with bated breath, until he could see Namjoon from his peripheral vision shaking his head.
“I can’t answer that for you. You know yourself better than anyone--you’re the only one who could possibly ever know if you actually like someone or not.” Taehyung hates how Namjoon doesn’t have a direct answer, but he has a point. “But I know you’ll realize the answer to that. Maybe sooner than you think.”
Taehyung could see Hoseok and Yoongi walking toward them now, past the two families having a picnic and across the park. “Any other nuggets of wisdom for me?”
Namjoon follows his gaze and he could hear the smile behind Namjoon’s words as the latter plays with a daisy that Taehyung hasn’t even noticed him pick earlier. “Being soulmates takes work. It’s not as easy as other people think. Just because we’re tied together by fate doesn’t mean things will just smooth themselves out and work harmoniously.”
Taehyung grunts, and Namjoon laughs, giving him a gentle pat on the back before standing up. “Maybe that’s enough advice for today.” Taehyung stands up too, and he notices Namjoon and Hoseok share a look. Even from across them, Taehyung could see Hoseok’s eyes twinkling. “If it helps, I think you guys make a great couple.”
On the way home, Taehyung thinks about what Namjoon said. About soulmates and love, and that one day he’s going to have to make a decision.
But he doesn’t have to think twice when he lets Yoongi lean against his shoulder on the bus, having fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of their journey.
On the way home after spending their day together watching another movie, Yoongi is going on about how his older brother just adopted a dog from the animal shelter, gushing about how she’s so cute. “You’re gonna love him, Tae. I’ll ask hyung if he can visit one day and bring her here.”
Taehyung keeps nodding on, smiling along to Yoongi’s words, until a thought suddenly strikes him and he stops in his tracks, suddenly wide-eyed as the realization hits him.
It’s probably a little bit too anticlimactic, and it’s completely unlike how they described it in books and in the movies. But it’s in that moment that Kim Taehyung realizes that he actually likes Min Yoongi. Maybe a little more than he had hoped for.
Yoongi stops walking too, tugging on the sleeve of Taehyung’s sweater. “Hey, Tae. Is something wrong?”
Taehyung looks at him like he’s just had a revelation, eyes suddenly glassy. “Hyung, I like you.” He says in the softest voice Yoongi’s heard him talk.
Yoongi looks down on his own feet, scratching his nose. Suddenly the cracks on the pavement look interesting. “I know.”
“No, not as a soulmate. I like, like you.” Taehyung clarifies, voice firm, more sure this time.
“I know.” Yoongi’s voice cracks this time, but he looks up and meets Taehyung’s gaze.
Taehyung gapes at him. He can’t believe Yoongi’s been playing along all this time, not even daring to confess first.“You knew all along and you didn’t say anything?”
“I wanted you to be sure before I said anything. I didn’t want to scare you off.” Yoongi offers a sheepish smile.
Taehyung takes Yoongi’s hands and holds them gently as he faces Yoongi. “You can’t scare me off, you’re my soulmate. You’re stuck with me.” He grins, and Yoongi mirrors his grin.
“I’m glad you’re the one I’m stuck with, then.”
Taehyung offers his hand, this time for them to hold hands while walking, and Yoongi looks embarrassed, but he takes it anyway.
“You know, for the record, you're not my soulmate just because someone said we were.” He murmurs while they’re walking, just as they’re turning the corner to their street. “You're my soulmate because I chose you, and you chose me, and we chose to make this work.”
Taehyung didn’t know that Yoongi was capable of saying such cheesy stuff, but if he gets to see Yoongi blushing while holding his hand all the while, he thinks it’s pretty much worth it.
Taehyung learns to love the red of Yoongi's hair even when he only keeps it for a few months before changing his hair color to blond; the red of his cheeks whenever he blushes; the red of the converse shoes that he always wears even when he said he hated the brand; he learns to love the red of Yoongi's swollen lips after a long make-out session in their room, and during their movie dates, and by the dorm’s fire exit, under the busted emergency lights.
And even when the faded red of his frayed thread reminds him so, so much of what it felt like to not have a soul mate, the gummy smile on Yoongi’s lips is enough to remind him that soul mates or not, they have each other.
And maybe that was enough.