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Seokjin shoved his hands into his pockets, wishing he’d remembered to bring gloves. He’d even laid them out on top of the counter last night in hopes that seeing them there would remind him to wear them the morning after, but as always he’d forgotten as he rushed out the door. He’d forgotten his scarf on top of that, and he sighed.
He looked up in surprise when a white flakes started falling from the chilly gray morning sky. Quiet, delighted gasps filled the air as the snow danced from the skies, falling and melting on the sidewalk. He found himself turning around, his feet moving almost automatically in the direction he knew too well now. It took him about half an hour to walk from where he had been to the big Christmas tree in front of the mall, and he laughed quietly to himself. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he didn’t have to take it out to know Jimin was telling him it was fine if he didn’t show up.
People bumped into Seokjin as he stared, glancing at him and muttering complaints about him just standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk. His hands were cold even in his pockets and Seokjin smiled sadly to himself, remembering how he used to always chastise Seokjin for forgetting his gloves. You keep your hands warm, and you keep the rest of your body warm, he’d always said. He’d take off one of his own and slip it onto Seokjin’s hand, take the ungloved one in his hand and shove their hands into his pocket.
That was how he’d asked Seokjin out, too. Hey, Seokjin. You wanna keep sharing gloves with me? Right here, in front of the Christmas tree, on Christmas Day, when it was snowing, just like this day. Seokjin smiled and sniffled, rubbing angrily at his eyes with the backs of his hands. It’d been almost three years since they’d broken up, and every time it snowed Seokjin found himself wandering back to the same place, over and over again.
They’d started dating, stealing kisses while no one was looking and intertwining fingers on busy subways. Everyone was too busy to notice two men were holding hands, even when Seokjin’s hand was never in his own pocket. Seokjin lets his feet take him where they always sat down, and sits down, ignoring the way the cold of the bench seeps into his jeans.
He’d gotten used to the cold seats, now, but he remembered how bad it had been the first time he wandered here alone, sitting down on the cold wood panels and remembering how he had always warmed the seats for him, taking out the hot packs from his pockets and tossing them on the seat for Seokjin to sit on. How he always just had a cup of hot chocolate ready for Seokjin to hold so Seokjin could warm his hands and warm his insides.
He didn’t really like people watching. Thought it was boring and always complained he didn’t understand why they did it. But Seokjin liked it, and he’d always laugh and point things out, and they’d just sit there, body pressed tightly to each other. And he’d listen to Seokjin talk, hints of a smile quirking at his lips, and when no one was watching he’d steal kisses from Seokjin’s lips, and laugh when Seokjin blushed and looked around to make sure no one had seen.
Seokjin shoved his hands in his pockets and watched the snow fall onto the people hurrying by, hoping one day he’d catch sight of the one that still mattered the most.
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Yoongi looked up when Namjoon tapped his shoulder, and when Namjoon jerked his head to the window, he already knew what was going to be there. Snow.
It was snowing a lot, and Yoongi wondered how long it’d been snowing for. He took his headphones off and walked to the window, staring at the world that was covered in white. Namjoon didn’t stop him when he grabbed his coat, even though the song wasn’t done and he was in the middle of a section he’d been working the entire day on.
He stopped by a café on the way and bought hot chocolate. Yoongi didn’t like sweets. It wasn’t his thing, but he did, always had loved sweets and Yoongi always took him to pink cafés with cakes and drinks filled with sugar, and Yoongi never really liked them but more than anything else he liked seeing his face light up with the brightest smile Yoongi had known.
He didn’t even have to think about where he was going. The hot chocolate was warm in his gloved hands, and the scarf that had been knitted so long ago was now getting old, but Yoongi would never wear anything else. The Christmas tree sparkled with multicolored lights in the night, branches heavy with the accumulated snow, and Yoongi stared up at it, watching white flakes fall from the dark night sky all around him. There were couples, this time of the night, when it wasn’t too late, and it made Yoongi’s heart ache.
Yoongi buried his nose into the scarf around his neck. It was well made, and Yoongi had later found out that he’d spent weeks on it, had knitted and unraveled countless scarves until one finally came out perfect, and Yoongi still remembered the smile on his face as he took it out of the bag, wrapping it around Yoongi’s neck and making him promise he’d wear it every day.
People had tried to tell him his scarf was old, tried to get him a new one, and told him he should just throw it out, but Yoongi had refused. He’d thrown out everything else in his drunk desperation the first days, but his drunk self had managed to keep the scarf, and Yoongi clung onto it like a lifeline.
They’d had a good three years, and Yoongi had been so happy. Happier than he ever remembered. He stared at the snow-covered bench and brushed off the snow with one hand, clutching the cooling hot chocolate with hand. It wasn’t easy, dating in secret, hiding from the disapproving gaze of society, but Yoongi’d been happy. He sat on top of the half-covered bench, ignoring the way the snow wet his clothes.
It had been a good three years, until their families found out, and then there was chaos. Angry demands, sobbed begging, and at one point even violence from their older brothers, where Yoongi’s brother had hit him, and Yoongi had gotten so mad they’d gone down in a fight. They’d endured two months of it, and Yoongi watched him wear away, his smile chipped away from his lips piece by piece until he couldn’t anymore. So Yoongi’d brought him here, the same place they started, and he’d cried so hard because he knew what Yoongi was going to do. Yoongi had ended it and the tears worsened, and Yoongi felt his heart tearing out because he didn’t even have the rights to wipe the tears away anymore.
Yoongi watched the snow pile up and wondered if he was waiting for Yoongi, somewhere, just like Yoongi was always waiting, right here, clutching a cup of cooling hot chocolate.