Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jimin has been staring at his arm for the past 25 minutes. His arm which, up until 25 minutes ago had been completely bare. Now, he trails his fingers down his bicep, following the thin white line to the crook of his elbow and down his forearm. His palm tickles slightly as he follows the mark across his hand and around his pinkie finger where it circles, only to reconnect, like a string tied together.

He woke to the tingling sensation of the mark appearing. It wasn’t painful, but unfamiliar enough that he pulled back the covers and shot up in bed, watching with wide eyes as the white thread slowly etched into view.

For most people, the day their soulmate mark appears is the best day of their lives. If Jimin were anyone else, he would have jumped out of bed and ran straight over the road to his best friend’s apartment, not caring that Yoongi is a notorious grump when woken in the middle of the night.

If Jimin were anyone else, his stomach would be filled with butterflies, his heart racing with excitement of what this means. Maybe he’d even cry, so overcome with emotion at the prospect of finally meeting their soulmate–of their life finally beginning.

But Jimin isn’t anyone else.

Instead, he sits in his bed alone, his stomach filled with lead and heart racing with anxiety. His eyes are brimmed with tears, but not ones of happiness, these are tears of fear, of loneliness. They’re tears for a rejection and heartbreak that has not happened yet, but Jimin knows is already prophesied to.

It wasn’t always like this. When Jimin first learnt about the soulmate marks he was just as excited as his peers. He remembers it vividly; the entire class sat on the carpet, wide-eyed as their teacher explained to them all that when they’re ready to meet their soulmate their mark will appear, a thin white line that trails from your pinkie finger all the way to your heart. And once you finally meet your soulmate and fall in love, the thin white line blooms into a scarlet red.

Jimin was buzzing with excitement, could barely sit still as his teacher had rolled up her sleeve and proudly presented her red soulmate mark. Jimin noticed them everywhere after that, saw his family members parading them around like badges of honour, rolling their sleeves up even during the coldest days just so no one would forget they had a mark–and it was red.

He remembers running a finger up and down his arm, imagining where it would sit, drawing a fake mark on with permanent marker before being scolded by his Mum, because he learnt there’s almost nothing more frowned upon than a fake soulmate mark.

For years, Jimin couldn’t wait to finally get his mark.

That was before, though. Before he realised he was different; broken. Before he knew he couldn’t love right.

After that, all the excitement he’d once felt was replaced by a heavy doom. Any mention of soulmates or their marks filled him with a dread so heavy he felt physically weighed down by it.

It’s one thing to have lived with this fear when he hadn’t gotten his mark yet, but it’s another thing entirely to have your mark and be rejected by your soulmate.

Which is what’s going to happen when Jimin meets them. When they realise he’s unable to love them in the way they’ll want him to, the way they’ve been taught he should.

He follows the line with his finger again, imagining what it will look like once he’s been rejected. How the stark black will look against his skin. How it will feel once he becomes an outcast to society.

All because he can’t love right.

He tries to picture how it will happen, whether they’ll break his heart gently, let him down slowly. Or if they’ll reject him on sight, scream at him for being such a disappointment, blame him for ruining them both.

He wouldn’t blame them for it. How could he?He was just as mad at himself when he realised he’s incapable of something as easy as love. Something that comes so naturally to everyone else, they don’t even have to pay it any thought, they just love.

Jimin lets out a sob, not even bothering to mask it; he’s alone in his home. Has been since Yoongi found his soulmate and left him. Just as they all do. Just as his soulmate will.

His soulmate who is somewhere in the world right now, most likely tracing their new mark, too. Most likely elated, imagining what Jimin’s like. Their head filled with wonderful ideas and dreams of their perfect soulmate. Visions of a daydream romance to make the gods jealous.

Thick tears map a path down Jimin’s face, staining his cheeks. He wipes at them aggressively, frustrated that he has the audacity to be upset about this. He’s not the one who should be crying; this will all be his doing.

He doesn’t get to cry on behalf of his soulmate, that luxury doesn’t belong to him.

It takes all his energy to keep his mind from wandering, drifting to thoughts of them. Wondering what they’ll be like, how they’ll look, where they’re from, how old they are. He’s banished those types of thoughts from his mind, hasn’t let himself ponder on immature daydreams of soulmates since he was a child. It’s proving more difficult to keep himself on track when the white mark on his arm is so glaringly obvious.

No matter how he words it, which way he views it, he can’t get rid of the ache in his chest that wants a soulmate–that so terribly wants to be able to love passionately and unconditionally.

There’s nothing more painful than knowing you’ll never have something but still wanting it so badly it aches.

It must be nice having a soulmate. An unbreakable bond with the only person in existence who truly, deeply understands you.

It really is a shame that Jimin will never get to experience it.

He doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night, stays up watching his clock tick over to 4, 5, 6am. Stays up to hear the birds sing their morning tune and watch the sun greet Seoul a good morning.

The whole time he sits unable to take his eyes off his arm, his cheeks tight and sticky with tears that have long since ran out.

At some point his brain shuts off, an empty static ringing around the dimly lit walls of his bedroom while he stares blankly, unable to fully process the mark on his arm.

When his alarm clock sounds, the shrill beeping grating on his ears as it pierces through the silence, he gets up. Showers, brushes his teeth, goes through the motions of getting ready for work, his brain still switched off.

By the time he arrives at the coffee shop, Jimin barely has any recollection of commuting there, his body working on autopilot.

“What are you wearing?” Yoongi asks the second Jimin steps inside.

He follows Yoongi’s frown to the long-sleeved black shirt he’s wearing. He pulls at the material, covering his hands with it, trying to keep the movement subtle enough that Yoongi won’t notice.

“Clothes…?” He replies, side stepping around Yoongi to escape into the staff room before he can ask any more questions.

“It’s like 30 degrees today, why are you wearing long sleeves?”

Yoongi follows him behind the counter, ignoring the customers waiting to be served and chasing him into the backrooms.

“All my other clothes need washing.”

“All of them?” He raises an eyebrow in suspicion. “You have so many clothes...”

Jimin shrugs, pushing open the door to the staffroom and heading towards his locker. He stifles a sigh as Yoongi follows him inside and leans up against the wall, eyeing Jimin warily.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jimin says, shoving his bag inside and slamming his locker shut. He’s not got the energy for this today.

“Sure,” Yoongi scoffs, reeling back a little from the sudden grate of metal against metal.

“I’m fine,” Jimin tries again, turning his back on Yoongi to put his apron on, hoping that he’ll get the hint that Jimin doesn’t care for this conversation. There’s no way he’s going to tell Yoongi what the problem really is. Especially not here, not now.

“Then why does your face look like that?”

“Hey!” Jimin exclaims, spinning to look at Yoongi, “That’s rude.”

“Your face is all puffy and miserable looking.”

“I didn’t sleep well.”

A small crease forms between Yoongi’s eyebrows as he draws them together, “Are you sick?”

Jimin shakes his head. Because, technically, he isn’t. The nausea rolling in his stomach isn’t linked to any real sickness, and the headache beginning to build up behind his eyes has nothing to do with his health.

“Just a bad night's sleep,” he shrugs, pushing the door open and heading out onto the coffee shop floor.

Yoongi mumbles a small ‘okay’ as he follows after him, not pushing the subject any further even though Jimin’s positive he didn’t believe him.

For the next few hours, Jimin fakes his way through his shift; serving the customers, making small talk and plastering on a smile, ignoring the pressure behind his eyes every time he catches sight of the white mark poking out from the end of his black sleeve.

He tries to put his predicament out of his mind. There’s nothing he can do about it now. And he needs this job. After all, once his mark turns black, he won’t have many options for employment, he needs to keep this job for as long as he can. He’ll still have bills to pay once this is over.

It’s around lunch time when Jimin’s brain decides to join the party, jolting awake with an anxiety inducing notice reminding him that he only has 2 days to register his soulmate mark before he’s branded a ‘no show’.

2 days for him to figure out what he’s going to do. 48 hours really doesn’t seem long enough for one to decide the fate of their entire future, but it’s all he has to work with.

For most people, he would presume 48 hours is too long. They march down to the register office the second it opens ready to legally officiate their mark and meet their soulmate. Zero hesitation or resistance. Probably not a single worry of their mark turning black if they don’t register in time, or, God forbid, their soulmate doesn’t register in time.

Because that is the life Jimin is condemning his soulmate to if he fails to register. Not only will Jimin’s mark turn black, but his soulmates will too.

He quickly shoves that thought so far into the back of his mind he hopes it won’t resurface again.

Jimin’s mark will turn black either way. At least if he doesn't register, it will be on his terms, and not because his soulmate turned him down. This will be easier for him to live with.

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he swallows down the quickly rising nausea in his throat.

By the time his shift ends, Jimin’s worked himself into such a frenzy there’s no hiding it from Yoongi.

He catches a glance in the mirror as he hangs his apron up and nearly baulks at his reflection, he's so pale he’s almost green, his skin dull and still slightly puffy from the night before. Even his eyes seem to be lacking the life he normally carries within them.

Yoongi’s watching him in the mirror, Jimin offers him a small smile when their eyes meet, but it falls short. Yoongi just sighs instead of returning it.

“Hoseok’s out tonight,” he starts, “If you want to come over? We could order some food, maybe watch a movie?”

Jimin has to look away quickly so Yoongi can’t see the tears that brim his eyes. He’s not sure why he’s crying, Yoongi invites him round all the time.

Today, though, he needs a friend more than he ever has before.

He nods quickly, pulling his sleeves down tightly over his hands and almost running out the door.

————༺♡༻————

Yoongi met his soulmate, Hoseok, a little over a year ago. It was the first time Jimin had witnessed the process up close, had seen the soulmate bond working in real time. It broke his heart a little watching them, their bond practically instantaneous, their minds fitting together as though they’d always been one.

Jimin had never thought someone could understand him the way Yoongi had, couldn’t imagine someone understanding Yoongi the way he does–until Hoseok came along.

And then the difference was so strikingly obvious that Jimin was ashamed that for a moment he’d silently hoped–wished even–that Yoongi would end up being his soulmate. They complement each other in a way that Jimin and Yoongi didn’t even come close to.

Hoseok was a sweetheart, too. Of course he was, there was no way Yoongi’s soulmate wouldn’t be. And Jimin got on with him like a house on fire. There was no time to resent him, to be riddled with jealousy that Hoseok was the one taking Jimin’s only comfort from him.

Hoseok burst into both of their lives like a ball of light when they were both unaware they had been living in the dark.

Even so, Jimin couldn’t spend too much time around them. His heart growing heavy as he watches them twirl around one another in their synchronised soulmate way, performing a perfectly rehearsed dance that Jimin will never know the steps to.

And then Yoongi moved out, and took with him the one sense of normalcy Jimin had ever known.

He only moved over the road, barely a 5-minute walk from Jimin. But seeing Yoongi pack up his life to spend the rest of it with someone else had almost broken Jimin. It was obvious that it would happen one day, there was no avoiding your soulmate when the time came.

And yet Jimin was ill prepared for it. Had somehow fooled himself into believing things could stay the same forever; the two of them happily living alone in their bubble, completely undisturbed from the world. What an immature notion.

Things change, no matter how hard you try and keep them in place, the tide is inevitable. The painful reminder of that is sitting terrifyingly under Jimin’s left sleeve.

The issue that Jimin has always had with love (the romantic kind, at least), isn’t that he can’t do it right, it’s that everyone else can. Because all that leads to is the painfully repeating cycle of being left behind.

It doesn’t matter how much his friends claim they love him, they’ll always replace him with a better kind of love, something stronger, and incomparable to the meek platonic love he can offer.

It's only a matter of time until they pack up their lives and move on to something better, leaving Jimin with another empty bedroom and a deep wound he’ll have to self soothe.

He doesn’t blame them, not really. Not when he knows the odd one out here is him.

Acknowledging that doesn’t make it any less painful when you feel yourself slipping further down on the list of someone’s priorities, though.

It didn’t take Jimin long to realise that it wasn’t really the dating he had an issue with, because that’s never something he’s wanted.

He never envied his friends for that–it’s hard to feel that way towards something you have zero desire for.

For Jimin, soulmate or no soulmate, his friendships are all he has. He’ll never have a romantic relationship like they do, so it results in him holding his platonic ones to a higher standard, because they’re all he gets in this life.

But eventually, they move on, because Jimin was just a placeholder until they got their mark and met the real deal. Then Jimin becomes an afterthought.

And it hurts so bad constantly being the one watching from the outside.

Yoongi had consoled Jimin on more than one occasion that things between them weren’t going to change, that he’d always have a place in Yoongi’s life. But how could they not?

Yoongi and Hoseok have only been together for 10 months, and that was all it took for the distance between him and Yoongi to become apparent.

Now, when Yoongi needs help with something, he asks Hoseok first. When he’s upset and needs comfort, it’s not Jimin he turns to anymore.

The pair used to live in one another’s pockets, and now they only see each other if their boss happens to put them on shift together, or their schedules line up and they make plans outside of work.

The changes are so brazenly obvious that Jimin doesn't understand how he was naïve enough to believe Yoongi’s promises.

Melancholy weighs heavily on Jimin’s shoulders, forcing him down onto the sofa the second he steps into Yoongi’s living room. He breathes out a sigh, long and exhausted. Now that he’s in the safety of Yoongi’s home and out of view of strangers, the barely kept wall of false pretences comes tumbling down.

Yoongi settles next to him, his voice soft as he asks, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Jimin hesitates for a moment before rolling his sleeve up. There’s no point in trying to hide it forever, Yoongi will find out sooner or later anyway.

“Oh, shit,” Yoongi mumbles, shuffling towards Jimin and grabbing his arm to properly look at the white mark.

The mark has been covered all day. Jimin made a point to keep his sleeve pulled all the way down over his hands, didn’t even dare to roll it up when he was alone. Now it’s on full display there’s no more denying its existence.

“When did this happen?” Yoongi asks, unable to take his eyes off the mark.

“Early this morning,” Jimin says, trying to keep his voice level despite the sea of emotions turmoiling through him, “Woke me up.”

Yoongi scoffs, finally looking up to meet Jimin’s eyes, his own shining over with a complicated mixture that Jimin isn’t sure is pity or glee—probably a bit of both.

“Yeah, feels weird, right?”

Jimin nods, pulling his hand back from Yoongi’s grasp and rolling his sleeve down again to quickly cover it. Yoongi’s face falls as he follows the motion.

“You’re not happy?” He asks.

“Of course I’m not.”

“This is a good thing, Jimin,” he keeps his voice steady, knowing he’s entering dangerous waters, “You’ll finally get to meet your soulmate.”

Jimin frowns and him, incredulous. They’ve had this conversation multiple times –Yoongi is no stranger to Jimin’s situation. His excitement towards this is bemusing.

“That’s not a good thing,” Jimin shakes his head.

“I know you’re scared, that’s normal. It’s a big life change. But it is good,” the corners of his mouth turn up in a small smile Jimin would normally find comforting. “Your life will take on a whole new meaning now.”

Jimin presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to push the quickly forming tears back into his tear ducts.

“When did you start talking like one of them?” When he speaks, the wobble is evident in his voice this time.

“One of who?”

“One of those stupid soulmate fanatics that we used to make fun of,” Jimin spits, dropping his hands from his eyes to make direct eye contact with Yoongi, “The type of people who would say shit like 'my life can finally begin now' like I haven’t been living it for the past 27 years!”

“You know what I mean. Obviously you’ve been living perfectly well without your soulmate. But now you can meet them, and this new chapter can begin,” Yoongi says, “You’ll get what I mean once you meet each other.”

“Don’t patronise me!” Jimin yells, his frustrations bursting out of him like cork.

If Jimin thought anyone was going to understand him, he thought it would be Yoongi.

Jimin supposes the soulmate life must have changed his best friend more than he thought.

“I’m sorry, that came out all wrong. It’s really hard to explain to someone who—ah… shit, I’m sorry. I don't mean to sound patronising.”

The apologetic look on Yoongi’s face is enough to soothe over Jimin’s anger, numbing it down to a small kindling as opposed to the roaring flames he felt licking at his chest only moments ago.

“Well, you did. And besides,” Jimin drops his gaze, averting his eyes to his hands as he twists the sleeve tightly around his index finger, “it doesn’t matter because I’m not going to meet them.”

“You’re not meeting them?” Yoongi repeats slowly, as though Jimin had spoken a different language and he's trying to translate the words.

Jimin just shakes his head, not wanting to repeat himself, his throat is beginning to feel sore from the tears he keeps swallowing down.

“What do you mean? Did you get a letter from the Registry Council or something?”

He shakes his head again. As far as he’s aware, there’s no reason why the Registry Council would write to him and tell him not to meet with his soulmate. That’s the complete opposite of what they do.

It’s silent for a moment before Yoongi’s eyes widen as what Jimin’s telling him finally sinks in.

“Jimin. You can’t not meet with them,” Yoongi says, his voice sitting somewhere between horrified and saddened.

“There’s no law against it,” Jimin says simply, as though this decision hasn’t been tearing him apart since he realised it was the only logical one to make.

Technically, he’s right. There are no legal rules that state you must meet your soulmate. But society sings a different tune. It’s not forbidden, it’s just not done. Jimin doesn’t know of a single person who has outright refused to even meet with their soulmate.

He knows what happens if he doesn’t­—everyone does–the stories are drilled into their heads as children. If you refuse to meet your soulmate, both of your marks turn black. If you meet your soulmate and they reject you, your mark goes black, while theirs stays a pearly white forever.

And if your mark goes black, you might as well self-proclaim yourself as a social outcast, because that’s what you’ll become anyway. They’re seen as dirty, wrong, a stain on the one perfect thing this world has given them. You can’t get a job, a house, a mortgage, even your friends and family might distance themselves from you. Jimin knows all of this, and yet, it’s a life he will condemn himself to if it saves him the heartbreak of rejection.

“Well, yeah. I mean… sure. There aren’t any laws,” Yoongi stutters, “But you know what will happen if you don’t even bother to meet with them.”

“I know,” he swallows.

“It’ll ruin their life,” Yoongi says, his voice gentle but words harsh enough that Jimin can’t stop the tears from brimming over. He ducks his head to try and hide them but it’s too late, Yoongi’s already seen them. He scoots over on the sofa to loop a comforting arm around Jimin’s shoulder.

“I told you I was going to,” Jimin’s voice is wet, “years ago.”

“I didn’t think you were serious.”

Neither of them speaks for a moment, Jimin’s shaky breaths filling the otherwise silent living room. Yoongi gives Jimin some time to collect his thoughts and get his tears under control.

When Jimin had first realised he was broken, after months (if not years) of agonising over why he was so different to his peers, it was Yoongi he went to first. Explained his issue to him in as much detail as he could articulate. The older had listened attentively, hadn’t tried to give him advice—there was no point, they both knew there was no fixing him—he just offered a shoulder to lean on and gentle words of comfort. It was then that Jimin had explained there was no point in him even meeting his soulmate only to disappoint them.

He didn’t realise that Yoongi hadn’t fully taken him seriously until now.

“There’s no point,” Jimin starts when his throat is loose enough to talk, “They will meet me, realise I can’t love them right and reject me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“What’s the alternative?” Jimin sobs,

“I agree to meet them and if they don’t reject me on sight, eventually they will fall in love with me, and my mark will turn a beautiful red. But I’ll never be able to return that favour, and theirs will turn black because I can’t love them, and they’ll be outcasted by society anyway! And I will be the one to blame. Isn’t it easier this way? We never have to meet. It’s less cruel if I don’t let them fall in love with me before I break their heart.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Yoongi offers, but his words aren’t filled with nearly enough confidence to be convincing.

“I’m trying to make this easier for both of us,” Jimin’s voice isn’t much more than a whisper now. “This way I might save them some of the heartache. I’ll just be a faceless coward who couldn’t even meet them.”

“They don’t get a say in this?”

Jimin sniffles, “Please don’t make me feel guiltier than I already do. If I could change this then I would. But I’m stuck this way.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” Yoongi’s arm tightens around his shoulder, “I know that you’ve been dreading this for years, I sympathise with you. Really. But they’re your soulmate for a reason. You aren’t two strangers randomly assigned to each other based on a personality quiz. You’re destined for each other,” he says, “If anyone’s going to understand you, it will be them.”

“But the whole point of having a soulmate is falling in love. I can’t offer that one simple thing. How could they understand that?”

Yoongi shrugs, “Maybe they can’t offer it either.”

“Oh.”

In every scenario Jimin had run through, this option didn’t even come up once.

“Or maybe they can, and don’t care that you can’t," Yoongi continues, "Maybe they hate the soulmate system and will be relieved that they don’t have to partake in it traditionally. Or perhaps they’re lonely, and just really need a friend.”

In every version that’s played out in Jimin’s mind, his soulmate has ruthlessly denied him, refused to even speak to him once they knew of Jimin’s problem. In one extremely vivid daydream, they even publicly shamed him in the middle of their first date, announcing to the whole restaurant that Jimin was made wrong before pouring their bowl of soup over Jimin’s head and demanding the staff chuck him out.

He can still feel the phantom bruise on his backside after he was thrown onto the pavement.

It's only dawning on him now that not a single one of his scenarios depicted his soulmate accepting him.

“What I’m trying to say is, you can at least give them the benefit of the doubt and meet them. They’re your soulmate, not some random guy you’re trying to hook up with.”

Yoongi makes it sound so easy when he says it like that. But in reality, it’s not so black and white.

“You can say that because you’ve already met your soulmate and things have turned out perfectly for you. You’re also able to do basic human things like, I don’t know, love him.”

“Okay firstly, Hoseok and I are not perfect, we may be soulmates but we’re human and have problems like any normal, healthy couple does,” Yoongi explains, “Secondly, you have to register your mark anyway. Whilst your there you’ll find out a little about your soulmate. Why not wait until after you at least know their name before you write them off. There’s no harm in that.”

Jimin can’t really argue with Yoongi’s logic. He had planned to bin the file on his soulmate the second he left the registry office, not even wanting to know the smallest details about them. But he supposes it wouldn’t do any harm to at least know their name.

————༺♡༻————

The next morning, Jimin calls out of work, letting his boss know that he needs to register his soulmate mark. After almost deafening Jimin with his shouts of congratulations, he informs Jimin he’s allowed leave for any upcoming dates related to his soulmate, no questions asked.

Jimin almost told him that won’t be necessary, but a small voice in the back of his mind that sounds irritatingly similar to Min Yoongi made him bite his tongue and thank him instead.

The registry office is just as Jimin had imagined it to be; stuffy and grey. He’s ushered into the waiting room the second he arrives, a clipboard weighed down with a small mountain of forms shoved onto his lap. He tries to fill them out as he waits, but his hands are shaking so badly he can barely hold the pen steady. Mixed with the way his leg won’t stop bouncing under the clipboard it ends up looking as though he tried to complete them during a magnitude 7 earthquake.

Eventually he gives up with a sigh. Figuring it won’t really matter anyway, this is the first and last time he’ll ever have anything to do with the soulmate system.

The minutes pass by agonisingly slowly, the skin on Jimin’s lips gets rawer by the second. By the time his name is called he’s worked himself into such a state he visibly jumps in his chair, almost fully lifting out of it with the startle.

“Sorry,” the man apologises, “It’s always so quiet out here, I forget sometimes.”

He smiles at Jimin, and while it’s not enough to slow down the rapid beating of his heart or uncoil the anxious ball in his stomach, the man's smile is kind, the sort that puts you at ease and silently reassures you.

“Would you like to follow me?”

Jimin swallows and stands, wipes the clamminess from his hands onto his jeans and follows after him. The man leads them up a flight of stairs and into a small, windowless office. He points to an armchair placed opposite his desk, signalling for Jimin to take a seat while he rounds the desk and sits in front of the computer.

“My name is Jeongguk, I will be your registration officer today. Did you manage to fill out the forms okay?” Jeongguk asks as he quickly types away at his computer.

“Um… yeah,” Jimin hands the clipboard over to Jeongguk, the plastic board shaking with his tremors.

“Nervous?” Jeongguk smiles again, taking the forms and placing them on his desk, “It’s okay to be. Most people are. I promise you’re in good hands.”

Jeongguk takes a moment to read through the forms, only needing to ask Jimin for clarification once. As he sifts through the pages, Jimin can’t help but notice the red mark wrapping around his fingers, the initials KNJ tattooed across his knuckles in the same shade of red.

Of course the registry officer working for the soulmate institute would have a red mark —it’s probably a job requirement.

“Most people are nervous?” Jimin queries after a moment.

Jeongguk nods, “It’s exciting. But for some people it can be very scary. It’s a major adjustment and it’s only natural to be slightly wary. No one really knows what meeting your soulmate is like until it happens, and the unknown is scary.”

Jimin had always presumed registering your mark was one of the happiest days of any normal person’s life. He hadn’t considered that they might approach it with a sense of trepidation as he is.

“It’s a wonderful time,” Jeongguk continues, “But reality is a little scarier than the stories we’re taught in school. It’s okay to be nervous, I won’t judge you for it. Promise.”

A slither of tension drains from Jimin at Jeongguk’s words, not enough to fully relax, but enough that he recognises he’s not in any danger here. It’s not like his soulmate is waiting in another room for him right now, anyway. Today is mainly paperwork and logistics—the main problem is tomorrow, on their first ‘date’.

Jeongguk works silently, transferring Jimin’s forms onto his computer and clicking around for a moment.

When he’s finished, he turns to Jimin with a wide smile.

“So the good news is your soulmate has already registered their mark. They came in yesterday morning so their file is already here. I’ll get the rest of yours scanned in and sent over to them this afternoon.”

The smile Jeongguk’s wearing doesn’t transfer to Jimin’s face as he speaks, a new sense of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. If his soulmate came to register his mark yesterday morning, it would have been one of the first things they did after waking to see their mark.

It wouldn’t be unreasonable to conclude that their hurry to register was due to excitement.

Jimin can already feel the fairytale that Yoongi weaved of Jimin's soulmate being like him starting to fall apart.

From one of the draws of his desk, Jeongguk pulls out a small rectangular metal box and places it on the desk in between the two of them. On the side facing Jimin is a small gap, maybe four inches tall. Jeongguk taps around on the screen on the top until the small gap lights up, a blue-ish glow illuminating from inside.

“Please can you place your left hand inside for me,” Jeongguk asks.

Jimin slides his hand inside, the light surprisingly warm as it beams down on his skin. He watches as it grows brighter, the light moving steadily across his skin.

“It’s so we can verify your mark is real.”

“Do people often fake them?” Jimin asks, bending towards the desk so he can see the light better in the small gap as it traces his little finger a few times.

“You’d be surprised.”

Jimin can’t fathom why someone would want to fake their mark. If only he could give them his instead, it’s not like he’s going to put it to good use.

The machine beeps signalling the test is over, the light flicking off.

A chill spreads over Jimin’s skin now the warmth from the light isn’t beaming onto his hand.

“Perfect,” Jeongguk says, placing the box back into the draw and turning to his computer. “You’ll meet with your soulmate tomorrow at 11am. A table has been reserved for the two of you at The Serendipity, if you chose to go.”

Jimin can’t stop his face from morphing into a deep frown at Jeongguk’s choice of words.

“Why wouldn’t I go?”

“Just because you have your mark now that doesn’t mean you have to meet them. The decision to do so still lies with you,” Jeongguk says, his words soft but not patronising. “The universe has done its part, now you need to do yours.”

Something about the way Jeongguk’s describing the meeting of his soulmate as a choice Jimin must make, rather than an inevitability, is refreshing for him to hear.

Jeongguk’s not at all how Jimin imagined workers at the Soulmate Institute to be. He always presumed they would be uptight and soulmate crazy, and yet, Jeongguk is kind and seemingly open-minded. It’s only taken sitting in this room with him for 10 minutes for Jimin to feel more at ease than he ever thought possible considering where he is.

The only person Jimin has openly spoken to about not meeting his soulmate was Yoongi, and he didn’t take the news too well. So sitting here, in the registry office, and hearing the official officer of his mark telling him the decision is his means more to Jimin than he can put into words.

“Do people often not meet them?” Jimin lowers his voice when he asks, feeling as though he’s talking about something surreptitious.

Jeongguk’s face lights up with a wide smile, his eyes twinkling as he says, “Nope. I like to remind everyone that they can decide not to go, but everyone always makes the choice to meet them.”

Jeongguk clicks around on his computer again, the printer behind Jimin whirring to life.

“Do—uh…” Jimin starts, twisting the sleeve of his jumper around his finger, “Do they ever not get along?”

“Sometimes. Not for long though. Even if they tried to, the soulmate bonds too strong to deny.”

“I don’t think my soulmates going to like me very much.”

The sentence is out before Jimin can stop it, the words whispered into the space between them. He isn’t sure why he’s confiding so much in a stranger, he knows speaking in such a way could be frowned upon—potentially dangerous, even, if heard by the wrong ears.

But Jeongguk doesn’t even stumble over his keyboard as he types away like Jimin’s speaking about the weather.

“It’s very normal to be worried and feel insecure about meeting them. They’re probably having the same concerns as you are right now. In fact, I can guarantee it."

Jimin knows Jeongguk’s words are supposed to be calming, but the tension that had been slowly seeping away reverses its course and floods through him with a vengeance.

Because Jimin knows that’s not the case; being nervous to meet because it’s a life-changing experience, and being nervous to meet because you know they won’t accept you are two very different worries that aren’t even comparable.

Jeongguk must sense this, because he stops typing and continues talking, giving Jimin his full attention now.

“My soulmate didn’t like me much when we first met.”

Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Really?”

“Mhm. There’s 3 years between us. I was 13 when I got my mark. I was just this annoying kid that kept following him around everywhere.”

Jeongguk lets out a small laugh as though reminiscing.

“That’s so young.”

Jimin had heard of children getting soulmate marks. They appear at any age and it’s not unheard of, but it is extremely rare.

“It was hard at first. We were both at such different stages in our lives and our relationship definitely reflected that,” Jeongguk says. “There were many different phases; I was the annoying younger brother, and then the awkward teenager with a one-sided crush, then the best friend, and then a few years ago we finally figured it all out.”

“And what are you now?”

“The loving husband, I hope,” He smiles, something big and cheesy and Jimin can’t help the small smile he gives him in return.

“He’s the love of my life. But just because we’re soulmates that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard sometimes, it takes work and commitment. I found it good to remember that the universe doesn’t make mistakes. It might take some time, but you’ll get there, I promise.”

Something about the way Jeongguk is so forthcoming about his own story, about the trials he’s had to overcome (most people would rather pretend the soulmate system is perfect and they’ve never even had the slightest tiff with their soulmate, because, well, they’re soulmates, why would they fight?), that it makes Jimin truly believe his words. Hearing the sincerity in them makes him feel braver. Brave enough to ask him something that’s itching at his brain.

“You were friends with him first?”

Jeongguk nods, “For a long time. Most of our relationship up until this point, really.”

Jimin almost baulks. He’s never heard of soulmates being anything other than romantically involved.

“You can do that?”

Jeongguk laughs at the obvious surprise in Jimin’s voice

“It’s your relationship, Jimin. You can define it however you like.”

Jimin hums at that as he digests Jeongguk’s words. It’s slightly ironic, Jimin thinks, that after all these years of deliberation, he hadn’t once considered that friendship was an option.

Jeongguk’s words stir something within him that Jimin’s too scared to name because it sounds a lot like hope.

“Your mark’s red,” Jimin nods to where Jeongguk’s hand is settled on the desk, the red obvious against his skin.

“Mhm.”

Jimin hesitates, knows it’s rude to ask too many questions about a stranger’s mark—especially questions like these. But this is the first time Jimin’s met a soulmate who has openly admitted that their relationship was platonic. That he actively made choices to be with his soulmate.

So, he takes a deep breath and asks:

“How long did it take for it to turn red?”

If Jeongguk is taken aback by Jimin’s question, he doesn’t show it. There isn’t an ounce of surprise or insult on his face as he looks up to the ceiling and pouts slightly as though thinking deeply.

“His turned red pretty quickly. It was actually quite embarrassing,”

he chuckles softly, “Mine took a while longer.”

“You weren’t worried about it turning black?”

Jeongguk throws his head back and fills the room with his laughter, clearly finding humour in Jimin’s worries that is lost on him.

“Not even for a moment,” he replies, wiping his eyes once he’s composed himself. “Even if it took him a while to grow to love me in the way that I loved him, I never doubted for a second that he would. It took 4 years.”

Jimin’s eyes widen comically at that.

“A few days before my 19th birthday, actually. And even after that, we were friends for a while longer before we became more.”

“Wait,” Jimin frowns, his eyebrows pulled so tight he might give himself a headache, “You were still platonic even when both of your marks were red?”

“Yep.”

“But… why?”

He just shrugs, flashes Jimin a boyish grin and says the words that will spin Jimin’s world on its head more than it already is.

“Because we wanted to be.”

For as long as Jimin can remember, it’s been subconsciously drilled into his head that he doesn’t get a choice in any of this. That he will get his mark, meet his soulmate, fall in love and live happily ever after. Anything even slightly off-script is unnatural and outlandish.

“You make it sound so simple,” he tells Jeongguk, no longer caring that he’s speaking to a stranger.

“Nothing about this has to be complicated unless you make it that way.”

Complicated is all Jimin knows. It’s the only thing he can offer his soulmate. There’s not a single thing about him that is simple, even if he tried to make it so; there’s no way that having a heart that can’t love can be made uncomplicated.

Behind him, the printers finally finished whirring, the silence suddenly palpable in the room.

Jeongguk collects the small stack of paper, slotting it into a thick navy blue file, institutes emblem embellished on the front, and hands it across the desk to Jimin.

“Here’s your soulmate's file.”

“Thanks,” Jimin mumbles, not feeling the slightest bit grateful.

He stares at the file with wide eyes as he accepts it, holding it with both hands so tightly that the paper dents around his fingers.

Jeongguk had managed to put Jimin so at ease that he almost forgot the anxiety that had been crippling him in the waiting room. It wastes no time reminding Jimin of its presence once he’s holding the very thing he feared in his hands.

“Whatever you choose to do, everything will turn out okay, Jimin,” Jeongguk smiles, “I just know it.”

He has a gleam in his eye like he really believes what he’s saying, as though, despite Jeongguk having his own issues with his soulmate, he still whole-heartedly believes in the system. Jimin supposes he wouldn’t be working here if he didn’t, if he didn’t positively believe in the mysterious ways of the universe.

Jeongguk must’ve seen so many newly marked soulmates come through this office, sat in this exact same chair as Jimin is right now. Hell, maybe he met Jimin’s soulmate just yesterday. Had the same conversations with them. Maybe the gleam in his eye is because he knows something Jimin doesn’t. Maybe his computer tells him something Jimin isn’t privy to, but has Jeongguk knowing things will be okay for him.

Maybe he’s just been brainwashed into believing in the soulmate system without fault just like everyone else.

Somehow, Jimin doesn’t think that’s true. He’s met his fair share of soulmate fanatics, and they would never openly suggest Jimin doesn’t meet his soulmate. The simple thought of doing something so preposterous would probably give them a stroke.

“Good luck!” Jeongguk beams as he holds the door open for Jimin.

Jimin thanks him again, finds himself wanting to express more gratitude than a simple 'thanks' can suffice. He wants to tell Jeongguk that his kindness has made one of the most harrowing days of Jimin’s life slightly more bearable.

Instead, he simply bows to the other man and scurries down the stairs.

Once he’s outside, file sat on his lap as he waits for the bus, Jimin can’t tear his eyes off the folder.

Yoongi had said that the least Jimin could do was learn their name — learn the name of the person whose life he was about to destroy. And Jimin knows it’ll be written in bold text on the first page; all he has to do is open the file.

10 minutes later the bus pulls into the stop and Jimin’s still staring at his lap.

20 minutes after that, he’s hurrying off the bus, the file still unopened as he rushes home, the paper clutched tightly to his chest.

The plan is to head straight home, to hype himself up to at least read the first page before he shoves it into the shredder and never thinks about his dreaded soulmate again.

But as he’s standing at his front door, hand lifted to type the code in, he realises the last thing he wants right now is to be alone. So, he spins on his heel and makes a beeline straight to Yoongi’s apartment.

“Jimin! Hey,” Hoseok greets him with a smile as he swings the front door open, moving to the side to let Jimin in.

“Is hyung home?” Jimin slips his shoes off still holding the file to his chest.

“Yeah, he’s in the shower.”

Jimin sighs. He doesn’t want to put this off any longer than he already has. Every second he stares at the navy-blue folder his stomach twists itself further into knots. At this point, he’s starting to worry if he’ll ever be able to untie them.

The knots get tighter when Jimin notices Hoseok staring at Jimin’s left hand, his mark unavoidable in the daylight. His eyes drift to the folder, the same folder that he had received only a few months earlier containing Yoongi’s information.

“Did he tell you?” Jimin asks, not needing to elaborate any further as Hoseok nods.

“He said it was complicated for you.”

“Understatement,” Jimin mumbles as he walks into the living room and curls up on the sofa, tucking his knees against his chest.

It’s still early in the day and yet Jimin feels exhausted.

“Did you read it yet?” Hoseok sits next to Jimin on the opposite end of the sofa, turning so he can fully face him.

Jimin shakes his head.

“Do you want me to leave so you can read it with hyung?”

He contemplates for a second and then shakes his head again. Jimin had planned on finding Yoongi so they could read it together, he thought that maybe he’d feel brave enough to open it with Yoongi by his side. He hadn’t considered that Hoseok might be home, too.

And yet, he doesn’t feel put off at the thought of reading his file with the both of them here. If anything, Hoseok’s presence is a welcome comfort.

“I don’t know if I want to read it,” Jimin says eventually.

Hoseok’s silent for a moment, as though choosing his words carefully. Jimin’s not sure how much Yoongi has told Hoseok about his condition. Jimin knows he’s never personally spoken to him about it. For all he knows, this might be the first time Hoseok’s hearing just how broken Jimin is.

When he risks a glance towards Hoseok, he doesn’t look confused or offended, he just looks sad.

“How much harm could just reading it do?”

Jimin wants to sigh, wants to roll his eyes and tell Hoseok that it could do a lot of harm. But then he thinks about it for a moment and he can’t settle on what it is that would harm him. If he reads the file, he’ll know his soulmates name and age, he’ll know their job and location, a few random tidbits about their life. Maybe it’ll make Jimin sad to know more about the person whose heart he’s going to break, maybe it’ll humanise them and make him feel worse when they’re no longer a nameless concept to him. But none of that can cause actual harm to him—at least not any more than he’s already feeling.

If anything, it’s what he deserves for being such a useless soulmate.

“None I guess,” he sighs, “I’m too scared to read it though.”

“It’ll be okay.”

Jimin lets out a groan and suddenly stands, the sofa no longer comforting him as he starts pacing back and forth in front of it.

“I wish everyone would stop saying that.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” Hoseok says quietly, “But I know when you meet them you’ll realise it too.”

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, probably to snap at Hoseok, but he’s interrupted by Yoongi walking through the doorway behind the sofa, still towel-drying his hair.

“Hey, I thought I heard your voice,” Yoongi gives Jimin a tight-lipped smile that the other doesn’t return, instead, Jimin rounds the sofa, not even bothering to greet Yoongi before he’s shoving the folder against his chest and scurrying away.

“What’s this?” Yoongi asks, eyes widening as he recognises the distinct blue of the folder, “You went?”

“Of course I went!” Jimin snaps, biting at the skin around his nails.

Yoongi’s towel drops to the floor, his wet hair forgotten as he looks, bug eyed, between Jimin and the folder in his hands.

“Did you read it?”

Jimin shakes his head, “I need you to read it.”

“You want me to…? Are you sure?”

“Yes. I can’t do it.”

Jimin’s pacing the length of the living room again, his stomach doing cartwheels. He can’t bear to look at Yoongi as he unties the ribbon and opens the file, but he can’t seem to look anywhere else either.

Yoongi rounds the sofa and settles next to Hoseok, laying the file over his lap as he opens it, eyes still darting to Jimin every few seconds.

“Wow, okay…” Yoongi mutters as he reads the page, “This is really, ha,” he lets out a breathy laugh.

Jimin feels at his wit's end, as though his top is about to blow, steam pouring from his ears.

“Well what does it say?!” he almost yells.

“His name is Kim Taehyung,” Yoongi’s gentle when he speaks, as though he realises the gravity of the moment.

Kim Taehyung. Huh. Jimin almost thought the world might shift on its axis once he knew the name of his soulmate. But it doesn’t. Everything remains just the same as it was. Jimin’s ears are still ringing, his heart is still racing in his chest and he feels a few seconds away from spewing all over Yoongi and Hoseok’s nice rug. But the world is still turning.

“He’s the same age as you,” Yoongi continues, “Was born in Daegu but lives in Seoul now. He’s— ah… he seems really nice, Jimin,” he’s smiling as he looks away from the paper. “He drew you a picture.”

“He— what?” Jimin snatches the file from Yoongi’s lap, not caring that he crinkles the paper slightly with his aggressive grip.

Just as Yoongi had said, on the bottom left of the page is a small doodle of two hands linked together in a pinky promise, a thin red string tying both of their fingers together. Underneath the red line is the word ‘us’ with a small heart next to it.

Jimin stares at the drawing, not even bothering to read anything written on the page. The hands get blurry after a while, unable to take his eyes off it even as they fill with tears.

“He’s going to hate me,” is all he manages to say before he breaks down into a full sob.

Taehyung will have received his soulmate file today, along with the time and address of their first date. Because he registered his mark first, Jimin hadn’t completed his forms so Taehyung would only have known the most basic information on Jimin.

He’d probably been looking forward to receiving the rest of the file, to finding out more about his soulmate, but Jimin couldn’t even offer him that. He’d filled out the form hastily, with shaking hands, answering every question as bluntly as he could to get it over with quickly.

But Taehyung took the time to answer every question in as much detail as he could fit in the small boxes. He even drew Jimin a picture. Jimin didn’t even know you were allowed to do that.

They haven’t even met yet and Jimin is already disappointing him.

Hoseok’s arms wrap around his shoulders as he guides Jimin to sit in between him and Yoongi on the sofa. He cradles Jimin’s head against his chest as the tears come thick and fast now Jimin’s no longer fighting them.

The file disappears from his hands as Yoongi takes it away, placing it out of sight for the time being.

It’s clear neither of them knows what to say to console Jimin. The silence stretching on, only interrupted by Jimin’s shaking breaths and occasional whimper.

“Do you remember what happened the first time we met?” Yoongi asks, breaking the silence.

Jimin shuffles slightly so he can see Yoongi as he nods, “We fought.”

“And the second time?”

A small smile quirks at Jimin’s lips as he remembers, “I threw a cup of milk at you.”

“Yeah. And I had to go the rest of my shift stinking,” Yoongi laughs. “I refused to work with you for 2 months after that. I specifically asked for us to have opposite shifts until everyone got so fed up with our pointless feud that we were forced to work the closing shift when there was no one else around and we had to talk to one another.”

“They were sneaky for that,” Jimin sits up, leaning against the back of the sofa instead of against Hoseok. He’s stopped crying, wiping away the last of the tears staining his face.

“It worked though. We spoke and I realised the reason you hated me so much was because you had a massive crush on me.”

“I did not!” Jimin argues, rolling his eyes. Hoseok chuckles next to him, having heard this argument more times than he can count.

“Fine. A platonic crush, then,” Jimin hums, allowing it, “And the reason you were in such a foul mood the day you threw the milk over me was because your roommate had just found his soulmate and moved out. We met at a really confusing time in your life, and I was really good at winding you up.”

“Still are.”

“For those first few months I knew you, I really hated you. Like I’d never hated anyone before,” Yoongi says, “And then I took some time to get to know you, to actually speak to you and try to understand you,” he shrugs, “and from then on we were inseparable.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we aren’t soulmates. And I did hate you. All I had to do was spend more than 5 minutes actually speaking to you to get over myself and realise you’re not that bad; and then a month later I was moving in with you. So, if by the odd chance your soulmate does hate you, take it as someone who’s been there when I tell you it won’t last long. And I didn’t have the power of a soulmate bond to speed the process along either,” he takes Jimin’s hand and links their fingers together, giving Jimin a gentle squeeze, “You’ll be fine. You’re annoyingly difficult to hate.”

Jimin doesn’t fully believe him, he wants to argue that his flaws are too big to be overlooked when it comes to a soulmate.

Yoongi must read the hesitation in his eyes, because he sighs and starts talking again, “Look, I’m not going to bullshit you, there is a chance Taehyung might be disappointed. None of us know how he’ll react.”

“There’s a chance he won’t be, too,” Hoseok adds, squeezing Jimin’s shoulder.

“But even if he is,” Yoongi continues, “I know it won’t last. The universe hasn’t put you together because Taehyung’s going to reject you. Our soulmates are more than just a randomly assigned person — we’ve been destined for each other since the beginning of time. No one understands you like they do and, no offence, but I don’t think you’re special enough for the universe to make exceptions for.”

Jimin huffs out a laugh at that because Yoongi’s right; even though Jimin has shortcomings, the universe isn’t paying enough attention to him to make them things his soulmate won’t be able to overlook.

He feels a little better after that, the lump disappearing from his throat and the tension draining slightly. He still has a knot in his stomach, but Jimin’s not holding out hope that that’s going away anytime soon.

“Are you going to go tomorrow?” Yoongi asks.

Jimin takes a deep breath, “I’m still not sure.”

“Maybe he’ll be like you?” Hoseok says.

“Maybe.”

Jimin doubts it. In his 27 years on this earth, he’s never met anyone like him. He’s not sure if there even are other people like him or if he’s alone in his brokenness.

Hoseok tucks his chin on Jimin’s shoulder and asks, “What do you have to lose in finding out?”

“I don’t think my heart could handle it if he rejects me,” Jimin answers honestly.

Because, really, that’s all he has left to lose. He’s already resigned himself to a life of loneliness once it happens. It’s just the initial heartbreak when it inevitably all comes crashing down that he’s so scared of.

“And you think facing the rejection is worse than not going at all?” Yoongi asks, “Even though you don’t know for certain he’s going to reject you?”

“I know you think I’m selfish—"

“I don’t think you're selfish,” he interrupts, “I think you’re scared.”

They’re quiet for a moment as Jimin thinks. He unlinks his fingers from Yoongi’s and runs one of them over the white line of the mark, following it up his arm much as he did the first night it appeared.

“Do you think soulmates can just be friends?” He asks into the silence of the room.

Since his conversation with Jeongguk earlier the thought has been eating away at his brain. The concept so revolutionising to him that it’s been a lingering thought all day.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Yoongi replies. “I’ve never heard of platonic soulmates.”

“My registry officer said he was friends with his soulmate for many years before they became romantically involved,” Jimin explains, “It got me thinking that maybe that’s possible for me too. Maybe we can just be friends and that will be enough.”

“Maybe after a few years, you’ll fall in love, too!”

Jimin knows Hoseok doesn’t mean any harm by his words. He knows he means them to be comforting and encouraging. But all Jimin can hear is him invalidating how Jimin feels.

Every time Jimin told someone about his problem, they always responded with the same insulting excuses. It’s always ‘you just haven’t met your soulmate yet’ and ‘you’ll fall in love one day’, as though Jimin’s just making it up, as though he’s upset he hasn’t met his soulmate and is throwing a tantrum.

As though Jimin hasn’t lived inside his own head for his entire life and knows his emotions and their capabilities better than that.

“Or maybe you won’t,” Yoongi adds, “That would be fine too.”

Jimin feels Hoseok nodding, his chin bumping against Jimin’s shoulder from where he’s still leaning on him.

“I think you’ll be the best of friends,” he says, “Kim Taehyung is really lucky to have you as his soulmate. And I’m sure he’ll know it, too.”

The tears return to Jimin’s eyes instantly at Hoseok’s words. He doesn’t quite believe them, but hearing them spoken out loud has Jimin struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Hoseok’s arms tighten around Jimin’s waist, holding him closer while the three of them sit in silence for a beat longer. Until Jimin takes a deep, shaky breath and asks Yoongi to pass him the file back. He’s feeling brave enough to at least read it now.

He flicks through it, reading all the information Taehyung provided for him, his eyes purposefully avoiding the doodle in the corner of the second page.

“I thought there would be a photo of him or something,” Jimin says, flicking back through the pages. “How will I know which one he is when we meet tomorrow if I don’t know what he looks like?”

Hoseok lets out a loud laugh, falling into Jimin’s side as if he’d just cracked the joke of the century.

“You don’t need to know what he looks like,” Yoongi explains, grinning as if he’s also in on the joke, “You’ll know who he is the second you see him.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, wants to huff out an argument about how dumb that is, but he knows he’s preaching to the wrong crowd. Neither of them will entertain his anti-soulmate theories. At least not while he’s sat in a living room plastered with their cutesy soulmate photos, framed and hung on the walls.

————༺♡༻————

That night, Jimin barely sleeps a wink. His eyes are dry with exhaustion, and yet he can’t close them.

As he lays there, waiting for the fatigue to finally get the better of him, he makes two lists in his mind.

The first is a list of things he knows, things that are fact, irrefutable. He knows that he has 10 fingers and 10 toes, that’s undeniable. He knows the sun will rise in 2 hours and 18 minutes and morning will come again.

He also knows that his soulmate is named Kim Taehyung, that he is 27 years old and from Daegu. He knows that Kim Taehyung has a dog named Yeontan and likes jazz music. Those are all facts he can’t argue with.

The second list is of things Jimin doesn’t know. Like how to bake a tiramisu, or how long it would take for him to walk from Seoul to Busan. He doesn’t know where he lost his favourite scarf last winter, or what the prime minister of Spain is called.

But most importantly, Jimin doesn’t know how Kim Taehyung is going to feel about him. He can overthink himself into oblivion, imagining scenario after scenario until his head hurts, but Jimin doesn’t know for a fact that Taehyung will respond any of those ways.

He doesn’t know that his soulmate will be disappointed in him, he doesn’t know that Taehyung will hate him, and he definitely doesn’t know—doesn’t have irrefutable proof—that Kim Taehyung is going to reject him.

It's with that thought swirling round his mind that Jimin eventually falls asleep, a slight comfort in not knowing what tomorrow will bring.

Ironically, this unknowingness is what has Jimin waking with a start, stomach already crippled with anxiety before his alarm even wakes him

The soulmate meeting is held in a restaurant specially built for this exact purpose. It’s supposed to be a neutral ground, somewhere neither of them will have been before to make the meeting go as smooth as possible.

It’s designed to create an extra layer of wonder to the whole experience, too. Guests are only allowed to enter the restaurant once; when you meet your soulmate. Every table in the building is reserved for these meetings, 365 days a year.

There are a few dotted around the city, everyone knows where they are, they walk past them with sparkly eyes, cooing at all the lucky diners inside.

Not Jimin though. Of course, he too knows where the restaurants are located. Not so he can ogle at the newly marked, or daydream about which one he might enter on his lucky day. No, Jimin keeps track of their locations so he can avoid them. Purposefully take a 10-minute detour so he doesn’t have to think about those things and deal with the panic attacks that accompany the thoughts.

Today, he has no choice as he stands outside The Serendipity lingering on the pavement, unable to take another step towards the restaurant.

It’s fancy, the restaurant, perhaps Jimin would go as far as to describe it as glamourous. The front is all glass, one giant window metres tall, thick red velvet curtains frame the inside, the name ‘The Serendipity’ etched onto it in swirly letters. Above the window the roof has been turned into an open-top bar, the railing decorated with twinkling lights and overhanging ivy.

As pretty as the building maybe, it doesn’t encourage him to enter.

He’s trying to calm himself by repeating the comforting words his friends told him last night. By reminding himself of all he learnt from Jeongguk yesterday. That it’s normal to be nervous and insecure, that he really doesn’t have anything to lose by meeting Taehyung. By making the choice to meet him.

Another 15 minutes later and Jimin is officially late, his pep talk turning into a silent mantra as he repeats it over and over in his mind.

It’s with a deep breath that he finally steps onto the stairs leading to the restaurant door, wiping his clammy hands on his trousers to no avail.

The woman behind the desk greets Jimin with a knowing smile, her voice friendly as she welcomes him to the restaurant and asks to take his name. Once she’s verified his booking, she steps towards the double doors to Jimin’s right, swinging one of them open.

Before she can step through, Jimin stutters.

“I-is he already here?” He asks.

She must recognise Jimin’s trepidation as she closes the door quickly and nods.

“He arrived half an hour early, actually.”

Jimin’s breathing speeds up, each breath coming out heavier now he knows his soulmate is not only already here but was eager enough to turn up half an hour early.

“Would you like to take a minute?” She asks, “We have a waiting room upstairs for when diners get overwhelmed. The sofa’s very comfy; I use it to take naps sometimes on my break,” she smiles, kindly, and Jimin can’t help but huff out a small laugh.

He feels slightly at ease knowing that his nerves are common enough for there to be a room specially dedicated to them. After Jeongguk had mentioned it, and now it being confirmed further, Jimin can breathe a little easier with the knowledge that he’s at least not alone in this.

“No,” he shakes his head, gulping in a mouthful of air, “No, I’m okay."

She smiles again, turning back to the door and opening it, this time walking inside, holding the door open for Jimin to follow suit.

The restaurant is big, much bigger than Jimin was expecting, with high ceilings, glistening with chandeliers. The black and white tiled floor is so shiny Jimin thinks if he bent down he might be able to use it as a mirror.

To his right a long bar fills most of the wall, black plush barstools lined up in front of it. A middle-aged couple are sat near the entrance, the pair so deep in conversation they don’t even glance Jimin’s way as he walks past, his boots clicking on the floor.

The rest of the restaurant is filled with tables and booths carefully spaced out to provide a nice level of privacy even when the restaurant is full. More than half of them are filled with new soulmates of all ages, their laughter and chatter filling the room, muffled slightly by the soft jazz music they have playing through the speakers.

Jimin hates that his mind supplies him with 'I bet Taehyung likes the music', as if they know each other.

The woman leads Jimin towards the far end of the restaurant to a section near the back windows. As soon as his table comes into view it’s a pointless endeavour. Jimin’s eyes find it automatically, zeroing in on the man sitting alone happily watching a pair of young soulmates sharing an ice cream sundae on the patio outside. He must feel Jimin’s eyes on him, because he turns almost instantly, his eyes widening with recognition.

Taehyung stands, his eyes not leaving Jimin’s as he moves, stumbling over the chair leg in his haste.

“It’s you,” is all he says.

And Jimin’s first thought should be ‘what an odd way to greet a stranger’, but it isn’t, because he gets it.

Jimin has never seen this man before, but he knows him, he feels it in his bones that he may not have crossed paths with him in this lifetime but he knows him. It’s rooted so deep inside him, tangled into the fabric of his existence that he couldn’t deny it even if he tried. He feels it all the way down to his soul, the small sigh of relief it lets out, a quiet little, I’ve been waiting for you, that Jimin doesn’t fully understand and doesn’t care to.

“It’s me,” he says back, voice getting stuck in his throat so it’s barely audible from where the other man stands.

“I’m so pleased to finally meet you.”

Something about his words makes Jimin’s eyes start to fill with tears, his throat tightening slightly, suddenly overcome with a flood of emotions.

“Sorry I’m late,” he chokes out, still unable to look away from Taehyung.

Taehyung chuckles, the sound vibrating through Jimin’s entire body, “It’s okay. I had a feeling you would be.”

“You did?”

He shrugs, “I thought you might be the type to be late.”

“That’s…” not entirely untrue, Jimin thinks but doesn’t say.

“Oh, um…” Taehyung rounds the table to the other side, pulling the chair out and gesturing to it, “Please sit.”

Jimin obliges, letting Taehyung tuck the chair in for him. Once Taehyung is settled back in his own seat, the pair just stare at one another in silence for a while.

It’s strange, how Jimin recognises him, could point him out in a crowd with ease, his eyes finding him like a magnet. Strange how Taehyung looks exactly how Jimin would imagine him to, if he allowed himself that pleasure.

There’s nothing recognisable in the shape of Taehyung’s eyes or the angle of his jaw, nothing familiar in the thick dark curls on his head or the way he leans an elbow on the table and cradles his chin in it, watching Jimin. But Taehyung is far from a stranger.

Taehyung’s drinking Jimin up the same way Jimin is him, trailing his eyes over every inch of Jimin as if trying to memorise it, flicking down from his blond hair to his eyes, lightly dusted with eyeshadow, following the line of his nose to his lips, tinted pink.

“This is kind of strange, huh?” Taehyung says after a moment.

“A little,” Jimin replies, but what he really he means is nothing has ever felt stranger but simultaneously as natural as breathing. Jimin’s not sure what to do with it.

Because, logically Jimin knows he’s never met Taehyung before. There’s no way he’d forget a face like that. And yet, his mind keeps trying to tell him that he does. That he’s known Taehyung for longer than he’s known his own name.

That for as long as Jimin has walked this earth it’s been with Taehyung by his side, he just didn’t know he was there.

A waiter comes over then to take their order. Jimin orders a coffee, unsure if he could stomach anything else. Taehyung follows his lead and just orders a coke, no food either, which Jimin is thankful for. The aroma alone might be enough to turn his stomach.

The drinks arrive quickly, and Jimin’s glad to have something to do with his hands. Now the initial shock has started to wear off, the anxiety comes crawling back like an

unwelcome guest at the table.

“Am I--” Jimin starts, clearing his throat, “Am I what you expected?”

He can't help himself by asking, overwhelmed with insecurity.

Taehyung hums, “Mostly. I didn’t expect you to be blond.”

“Oh. Well, it’s dyed. I’m not naturally blond. It’ll go back to black eventually if I let it. Or I want it to, I guess I could dye it back. I think the blond suits me though. But if I let it grow it’ll go back dark, I can let it grow out, the roots have already started showing a little but—”

“I know how hair dye works,” Taehyung laughs, cutting Jimin’s rambling off. “But for the record I like the blond. It does suit you.”

“Thanks. Your dark hair suits you too.”

“I would hope so, it is my natural hair,” Taehyung smiles, big and boxy and Jimin feels as though he might die.

Instead, he takes a sip of his coffee even though it’s still too hot, scalding his mouth and murmurs out a quiet, “Right… obviously.”

“You’re really nervous, aren’t you?”

Jimin wants to deny it, to laugh it off because he feels like Taehyung’s about to catch him out. As though his nerves are giving him away, plastering a flashing neon sign above his head informing Taehyung that his soulmate is broken. As though he’s a few seconds away from dumping his drink over Jimin and rejecting him, just as he envisioned in his daydream.

But when he glances up from his coffee, Taehyung isn’t looking at him in suspicion or disgust, no, his eyes are filled with genuine concern.

So Jimin decides to be honest. What does he have to lose, right?

"Ah, is it that obvious?”

Taehyung gives him a tight-lipped smile, “You’ve kind of looked like you want to throw up since you sat down.”

It doesn’t take a universally gifted soulmate bond to figure that one out.

“You’re not nervous?” Jimin asks.

Since Jimin arrived, Taehyung hasn’t seemed nervous at all. He seemed excited, if anything. It’s one of the reasons Jimin can’t shift the nausea. If Taehyung had been nervous, maybe Jimin could have believed in Yoongi’s theory that Taehyung

might be like him, that that’s why they’re soulmates. But he isn’t. Jimin can feel the happiness buzzing off him, and it’s tearing him up inside knowing that he’s going to be the one to destroy it.

“Not really,” Taehyung says.

“How come?” Jimin can’t help but ask.

“Why would I be? What is there to be nervous about?”

‘Everything’ Jimin wants to say.

“We’re essentially on a blind date. That’s scary,” is what he actually says. “Meeting strangers is normally a little nerve wracking.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my soulmate.”

So much for soulmates being two halves of the same brain. Jimin had held out a little hope that even with all of his complications Taehyung might surprise him and at least be on the same wavelength as Jimin.

But clearly he so blindly believes the soulmate system just as much as everyone else.

“I guess.”

Jimin takes a hearty sip of his drink so he doesn’t need to talk for a moment, letting his eyes drift away from the table and to the two children outside still sharing their now melted ice cream.

“Do you think it would be easier to meet as children?” Taehyung asks, following Jimin’s eyeline.

He ponders on it for a moment watching the pair as they giggle over something in the garden that Jimin can’t see, their mouths covered in sticky ice cream that’s dripped down to stain their t-shirts, neither of them caring as they laugh free from burden.

He thinks back to Jeongguk’s story, to how he shared that things were difficult for him because he got his mark so early, how he and his soulmate had to grow into one another.

He imagines at times it must have been difficult; being a teenager is already confusing enough without having a soulmate thrown into the mix.

He thinks back to himself as a child. Maybe it would have been easier to realise he was broken if he’d already had a soulmate, how he wouldn’t have needed to fear the rejection if they were already devoted to one another.

Perhaps, if they met young enough, Jimin wouldn’t even have realised he couldn’t love right. Perhaps he would have fixed himself before he broke in the first place.

Maybe meeting his soulmate as a child would have prevented it from ever happening.

Even as he’s thinking it, Jimin knows it’s a lie. He knows this was always a part of him, no matter how early he met his soulmate he would always have ended up like this.

It’s as woven into his soul as the white mark on his arm.

Maybe going through the horrifying realisation that he can’t love romantically would have been worse if he already knew who’s heart he would be breaking; if they had grown up together. There’s a chance it would have been more excruciating than it already is if he’d had to explain it to his soulmate years into their relationship. To break them after they’d already moulded themselves to one another.

At least this way Taehyung’s heart might have a chance to heal again, if Jimin breaks it before they know one another.

Of course, he doesn’t say any of this. He just says, “maybe,” and takes another sip of his coffee.

They watch the children in silence until a waitress comes out and escorts them back inside. Both of their faces flood with disappointment, but they follow her anyway, linking their hands together without hesitation.

“Do you like children?” Taehyung asks once the patio is empty.

The question is so froward it startles Jimin. So laced with intention that he needs to remind himself that technically this is a date. And not just any date, a date with the man who is supposed to be his life partner

Asking about how many children he wants and where he’d like to get married are all very normal questions.

“Yes,” he says, “They’re cute.”

“What about dogs? Do you like them?”

“Yes. I like dogs.”

Taehyung nods approvingly, “Cats?”

“I like them, but I’m allergic.”

Taehyung gasps dramatically, covering his mouth with his hand, “That’s so sad. I wonder what you did to make the universe hate you so much.”

Jimin laughs, can’t help himself as he throws his head back and cackles. Because yeah, he’s been wondering that for a few years now too.

“I’ll let you know when I find out,” he replies, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

Taehyung beams back at him, smiling proudly that he managed to get some kind of reaction out of Jimin that wasn’t a short, one-word answer.

“Do you have any pets?” Jimin shakes his head, “Any children?” He shakes his head again. “I have a dog.”

“I know, it was in your file. Yeontan, right?”

Taehyung smiles, “You’ll have to meet him. I think he’ll like you a lot.”

“You can’t possibly know that,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “You don’t even know if you like me yet.”

Taehyung scoffs, “Of course I like you, we’re soulmates. And there’s no way you could be my soulmate if my dog doesn’t like you. That would never work,” he takes an over exaggerated sip of his coke, eyes squinted over the lip of the glass, staring at Jimin.

Jimin can’t help the small smile that plays on his face, or the words that slip out unintentionally.

“I’d love to meet him.”

Jimin wants to berate himself the second they’re out of his mouth, unable to be taken back. The last thing he wants is to lead Taehyung on. He had hoped today would go bad enough that they would mutually agree that the soulmate system is broken, and they’re not supposed to be with one another. And if that hadn’t worked, he was going to explain to Taehyung that he just doesn’t want a soulmate. Maybe they could be friends, but anything more than that he’d need to look for elsewhere.

And now out of nowhere he’s agreeing to meet the man's dog.

It’s almost worth the internal turmoil when Taehyung sets his glass down and smiles widely at Jimin, his whole face lighting up with glee.

“I would really like that,” he says.

Jimin offers a small smile, taking another sip of his coffee to fill the silence that encases them as Jimin obviously lets the conversation die.

He doesn’t want to be rude – truly. Taehyung hasn’t done anything wrong, and Jimin doesn’t want to hurt him anymore than he’s already going to. It’s just… Jimin can already feel the pull, can already feel his soul reaching out for the other man, even when they’ve barely held a full conversation with one another.

If he could let himself enjoy this, if he could lean into that feeling just as everyone else in the room is doing, he knows it could be wonderful. There’s a lightness in Jimin’s chest, fighting its way through the nerves and anxiety to flood him with an ease unlike anything he’s experienced before.

If he could let himself enjoy this, maybe he would embrace the way his eyes don’t want to look away from Taehyung for even a moment, he wouldn’t fight the way they automatically travel back to him even when Jimin purposefully looks away, zeroing in on him as the rest of the room disappears.

The butterflies in his tummy would be fun and filled with life instead of dread. The nausea in his stomach would be due to excitement and not crippling anxiety. The goosebumps that litter his skin would be from the sheer wonderment of being so close to his other half, and not from the chills that keep sweeping over his body as fear eats away at him.

If Jimin were lucky enough to enjoy this, to drown in the dizzying experience, he knows it would be so easy to let go, to let himself be caught up in the current pulling him towards Taehyung.

But he can’t. That luxury belongs to everyone else in this room, bar him.

So, he’s not trying to be rude. But if he’s going to get out of this as unscathed as he can, he needs to do everything within his power to stop that pull from becoming stronger, and the more they talk, the more they get to know one another, Jimin knows it will only be a matter of time before Taehyung pulls him in so far that he starts drowning.

And judging by the way Taehyung’s eyes keep sparkling every time Jimin catches his eye, the other man is not going to make this easy for Jimin.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jimin listens to Taehyung talk, trying not to get intoxicated in the deep timbre of his voice. Taehyung talks about everything, floating from one subject to the other without seeming at all phased that he’s talking to a stranger.

He tells Jimin about his job at a bar on the other side of the city, how adores it there and couldn’t imagine himself working anywhere else. He tells him of his friends who work there with him, of how he was so lonely after moving to the city before he met them.

Jimin nods along, humming at all the right points, but adding very little to the conversation. There’s nothing he wants to share with Taehyung, nothing that he could tell him about himself that would ease any of the pain he’s going to put him through in a matter of days.

The openness of the other man is both riddling Jimin with jealousy at his ease and irritating him that he’s so persistent in letting Jimin get to know him. Because every small fact, every little habit Jimin picks up on is only drawing him closer to Taehyung, the mark on his hand itching to stretch across the table and link together with its matching half.

A part of Jimin thinks he might deserve this, thinks maybe this is what he gets for letting Taehyung down. If he’s going to ruin his life, it’s only fair that he knows the details of what he’s destroying.

After what feels like simultaneously the longest and shortest two hours of Jimin’s life, the waitress informs them that their allocated time has run out and they need to give up the table.

Jimin jumps to a stand, thankful to have a reason to get out of there and breathe some fresh air.

Before he can run away Taehyung suggests they swap numbers and Jimin doesn’t have a valid excuse to say no as Taehyung hands him his phone to input his details.

“Not that it really matters with us being soulmates and all,” Taehyung grins, wide and boxy. “We’d probably keep accidentally bumping into each other now anyway. Like how they did it in the olden days.”

Jimin hates that Taehyung’s probably right.

The second Jimin bids Taehyung goodbye he reaches for his phone, not thinking twice before he hits call on Yoongi’s contact. The phone barely rings once before it’s connected, as though Yoongi had been waiting for Jimin’s call.

“How’d it go?” Yoongi says as soon as he answers, not bothering with a ‘hello’.

“Fine.”

There’s static on the other end of the line for a moment before Yoongi probes, “Just fine?”

Jimin sighs, “Just fine. I could barely speak to him I was so nervous.”

“But it didn’t go terribly?”

“My mark didn’t turn black, no.”

Jimin hears a puff of air against the microphone, as though Yoongi let out a deep breath.

“Okay, well… that’s good.”

“I suppose.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“He wants me to meet his dog,” Jimin avoids the question, his stomach swooping with nerves at the thought of having to face Taehyung again.

“Will you?”

He knows he needs to tell Taehyung that he can’t see him anymore, and he needs to do it in person. If Jimin’s going to ruin the man’s life, the very least he can do is look him in the eye’s while he does it. He may be broken and unlovable, but he’s certainly no coward.

“I guess.”

The lines quiet for a moment, Jimin unsure what to say despite his mind flooding with thoughts.

“I’m proud of you for going,” Yoongi says, “I know this was really hard for you.”

At his words Jimin’s chin starts to wobbly slightly, all the emotions of the day coming crashing down on him.

“Thank you,” he chokes out.

“I’m working the closing shift later, but if you want you can come round to eat with us after?”

“No thanks. I kind of just want to go home and lie down.”

As if to punctuate his point, Jimin stifles a yawn, his eyes scrunching closed with the force of it.

“I’ll speak to you tomorrow, then.”

Jimin hangs up just as the bus pulls into his stop, struggles to keep his eyes open the whole way home, the swaying lulling him to sleep. When the bus finally pulls into his stop, he trudges home, limbs heavy with exhaustion.

He barely remembers to wash his face before he flops into bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, too quickly for his brain to start overthinking.

It’s 4am when Jimin wakes, the sky still dark outside his window.

He slept for longer than he expected, his body clearly needing the rest after not getting a decent night’s sleep since he woke 3 nights ago to his mark appearing.

A loud grumble interrupts the silence, Jimin’s stomach violently protesting to only having a single cup of coffee all day. He kind of wishes he’d taken up Yoongi’s offer of food now.

He slides his slippers on and pats his way into the kitchen, sleep still clinging to the edges of his vision. He grabs a pack or ramyeon from the cupboard, not awake enough to bother cooking anything more nutritious at 4 in the morning.

While he waits for it to cook he filters through the notifications on his phone, clearing them as he goes; a few from his work group chat which he barely glances at; a handful of random ones that he clears without second thought; a long paragraph from Hoseok which he saves to read when he's feeling slightly less tender.

None of them are what have Jimin locking his phone and throwing it to the other end of the counter, eyes wide as though he's just seen a ghost. Because as he's exiting out of his chat with Hoseok he sees a new conversation with an unknown number.

Jimin doesn't need to have the contact number saved in his phone for him to know it's Taehyung.

He pointedly ignores where his phone is lying face down on the worktop as he serves his noodles, pouring them into a bowl and grabbing some chopsticks.

Once he's settled at his dining table, his heart rate calmed with a few deep breaths, he dares to grab his phone again, placing it next to the bowl and staring at it frozen in his seat.

"Pull yourself together, Park Jimin," he mumbles to himself, reaching out and grabbing the phone in one swift movement.

Unknown Number

[18:29pm]

Hi Jimin, it’s me, your soulmate :)

Unknown Number

[18:30pm]

I wonder how long it’ll take before I stop getting butterflies every time I say that ㄲㄲ

Unknow Number

[18:31pm]

I was wondering if you are free tomorrow afternoon? I would like to take you out

somewhere if you aren’t busy

Unknown Number

[18:47pm]

If you are that’s fine

Unknown Number

[19:04pm]

The day after works for me too!

Unknown Number

[20:24pm]

Just let me know…

Jimin stares at the texts, reading and re-reading them over and over until his bowl of noodles gets cold.

It’s strange, he thinks, how clear it is that Taehyung was overthinking his messages after sending them. How the calm, clear-minded man from the restaurant earlier doesn’t translate at all over text.

It makes something scarily close to endearment bloom in Jimin’s chest.

The idea of meeting with Taehyung again doesn’t fill Jimin with the excitement he knows it should. Because this time he has no choice but to confess to him, to expose the ugliest part of himself to the one person who is supposed to only see his beauty.

As much as it eats away at him, Jimin knows he’s living on borrowed time. It will be better for everyone if he gets it over with, rip the band-aid off before it has time to fully stick.

Which is what he tells himself as he saves Taehyung's number to his phone and types out a reply, locking his phone and placing it face down on the table as soon as he hits send.

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[04:39am]

Hi Taehyung

Yes i’m free tomorrow

What time would you like to meet?

He manages a few forkfuls of his now lukewarm noodles, any appetite he had suddenly lost, before his phone buzzes with a notification.

Kim Taehyung

[04:41am]

Oh you’re up late

Kim Taehyung

[04:43am]

Or maybe early…?

Jimin didn’t expect Taehyung to respond until a more reasonable time in the morning. Had hoped he might have a little longer to think through what his plan is. Clearly the universe has other ideas.

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[04:44am]

I had a nap when I got home

So now I can’t sleep

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[04:46am]

Why are you awake?

Kim Taehyung

[04:46am]

Your texts woke me

Kim Taehyung

[04:47am]

I set your contact to have a different sound so I’d never miss a text from you ㄲㄲㄲㄲ

Jimin groans, the irritating seed of endearment sprouts a few more buds against his will. Why does he have to be so cute?

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[04:55am]

Sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you

Kim Taehyung

[04:55am]

I don’t mind!

It’s not everyday you get woken up to texts from your soulmate

Kim Taehyung

[04:58am]

I feel so lucky

Jimin hates that soon ’luck’ is the opposite of what Taehyung will think of when he remembers Jimin.

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[05:01am]

Okay…

Kim Taehyung

[05:02am]

ㄲㄲㄲㄲ

you’re still nervous talking to me even over text?

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[05:02am]

Your first messages to me seemed nervous too??

Kim Taehyung

[05:03am]

Because they were

Kim Taehyung

[05:06am]

Of course i’ll get nervous texting the prettiest boy in my phone

Jimin's phone clatters to the table as he places it face down, groaning into both his hands. Of course Taehyung thinks he's pretty. They’re soulmates, it’s kind of a given. But that doesn’t stop him from trying to will away the heat in his cheeks at the confirmation.

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[05:10am]

Right.

That makes sense… i guess

Kim Taehyung

[05:11am]

You’re so awkwardㄲㄲ

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[05:11am]

I’m free all day tomorrow so we can go out whenever you want

Kim Taehyung

[05:11am]

I can pick you up at 1pm?

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[05:12am]

Pick me up?

Kim Taehyung

[05:12am]

Yes! The place i want to take you to is a little bit of a drive away

Jimin perks up at that, curious now as to what Taehyung has planned.

Kim Taehyung

[05:14am]

If that’s okay?

Jiminie ♡ ♡

[05:16am]

1pm is fine.

Jimin types out quickly, locking his phone and ignoring the next few notifications that come through.

He doesn’t manage to sleep again that night, his nerves too on edge for him to rest. Instead, he flicks through Taehyung’s file, reading the same tidbits of information on the other man that he’s read dozens of times already.

It’s slightly counterproductive, each time Jimin reads the file, each time he glances at the drawing in the corner, he feels the tug of his bond reaching out to Taehyung. But still he flicks through the pages, hoping that somewhere among them will be something that helps Jimin learn a way to let Taehyung down gently.

Now that he knows him, now that he’s sat across from him and seen the way he looks at Jimin with such wonder and tenderness in his eyes, it makes the reality of what he has to do so much stronger.

Which is the exact reason why Jimin hadn’t wanted to meet Taehyung in the first place. He knew that this would happen, that he would be wrecked with guilt so intensely it makes him feel physically nauseas.

This is all Min Yoongi’s fault. Jimin should know by now to never listen to his best friend.

Because, despite Jimin’s obvious faults, he knows he has a tender heart. It may be slightly broken and built wrong, but he knows how to care with it, even if it that love accumulates in a way that may be slightly different than most people are used to.

He’s soft and gentle and regardless of it all, he’s loving too.

Which is how he knows breaking Taehyung’s heart is going to cause Jimin more pain than he knows how to live with.

————༺♡༻————

Taehyung refuses to tell Jimin where he’s taking them. As soon as Jimin had slipped inside Taehyung’s car he’d demanded to know, eyes squinted with suspicion, but the other man refused to give Jimin even a small clue.

They’ve been driving for over an hour now, leaving the city and travelling down roads that Jimin doesn’t recognise.

The knowledge that Taehyung is a stranger is not forgotten by Jimin. Soulmate or not, getting in his car after one meeting, letting Taehyung drive him to an undisclosed location, is not exactly the street smarts his parents taught him.

And yet, Jimin feels nothing but perfectly safe in the comfort of Taehyung's Jaguar F-pace.

Maybe, Taehyung is a murderer. Perhaps that’s why they’re soulmates—because Jimin is the perfect victim, walking right into his trap obliviously. Blindly trusting someone he’s known for a little over 24 hours just because the universe told him to.

As Jimin watches Taehyung from the passenger seat, tapping his hands on the steering wheel in time with the music, mumbling the incorrect lyrics to some old English song Jimin recognises, he finds that hard to believe.

Jimin spares a few seconds to watch him before he snaps his eyes away, glueing them on the horizon. He knows he was staring at Taehyung with that same sparkly look in his eye as Taehyung was watching Jimin with yesterday in the restaurant.

The last thing he needs right now is Taehyung noticing that Jimin’s cold shoulder act is just that—an act.

So he sets his eyes to the clear blue sky, wishing there were some clouds he could make objects out of to pass the time.

Eventually, Taehyung exits the main roads, driving them down a small windy lane that Jimin can very clearly see his looming demise at the end of.

To his surprise, though, at the end of the road is a secluded beach, the clear blue sky now dipping down to meet the steady waves of the ocean.

Taehyung pulls over in the small car park just before the road turns to sand, unclipping his seatbelt and turning to Jimin with a smile.

“Ta-da!”

“You brought me to the beach?” Jimin says, dumbly.

“Thought you might like it. I used to come here with my family a lot in the summer.”

He opens the door and jumps out, grabbing a picnic basket from the boot before rounding to open Jimin’s door for him, too.

Jimin’s still buckled in, hasn’t moved an inch as he stares mouth open at the serene view in front of him.

“I love the beach.”

Taehyung giggles, “I always thought you would.”

“You did?” He whips his head to look up at Taehyung, eyes wide in surprise.

“Every time I came here I imagined bringing you one day after we met. And then once I read your file and saw you grew up by the beach it suddenly all made sense.”

Jimin slides out of the car, slipping off his shoes and socks before sinking into the soft sand. The air is warm, but the sea breeze battles against Jimin’s hair, swirling around him as he pulls his hoodie tighter.

(Taehyung hadn’t given any hints as to where he was taking Jimin, but he told him to wear something warm. Jimin had deduced from that that they were probably going somewhere outside. The beach was not on his list of options, though. He hadn’t considered anywhere outside of Seoul as a possibility. Unfortunately for Jimin, Taehyung seems adamant to exceed all his possibilities).

“I haven’t been in a while,” he tells Taehyung as he joins Jimin in the sand, loafers in hand.

“We’ll have to make the most of today, then.”

It almost hurts Jimin, the genuine anticipation in Taehyung’s eyes, the wide smile as he swings the picnic basket in his hand and walks further into the beach.

The beach is nice, small enough that Jimin can see where it changes from sandy beach to rocky cliffs on either side, the sand portion making a perfect half-crescent moon in the middle of two high peaks.

It’s quiet, secluded the perfect amount to make it a cosy date spot, but not enough that it’s deserted.

The pair walk for a bit in silence, basking in the fresh sea air and serene quiet that’s impossible to find in the city.

Jimin aches to dip his toes in the water, to walk along the shoreline, feeling the way the waves cascade against his ankles. But he knows it’s too late in the year to enjoy it, the water numbing his feet the second they make contact.

Instead, he watches the white horses dance against the sand from a safe distance.

A few metres in front of them a couple are throwing a ball for their dog, the never-ending game of catch as the black Labrador hurtles down the beach only to turn back and sprint to his owners. Repeating the same cycle over and over without getting bored.

There’s a simplicity to it that Jimin finds himself envious of. The way the dog mindlessly plays fetch, the slow, unhurried pace of the couple playing with him, as though they have no cares in the world, nowhere to be other than here.

The Labrador runs off into the distance, kicking the sand up as it chases after the ball, its owners stroll leisurely behind, hands intertwined.

“You should have brought Yeontan,” Jimin says, breaking the silence.

Taehyung smiles wide at the mention of his dog, “I could have, but Tannie doesn’t like the beach.”

“Oh, that’s unusual…?” Jimin phrases it as a question, not wanting to insult Taehyung’s puppy, but also curious as to what kind of dog doesn’t like the beach.

Luckily, Taehyung laughs, a small breathy chuckle as though reminiscing on some memory, “He doesn’t like the sand in his fur.”

Jimin’s eyes crescent as he smiles, can’t help it as he asks, “Is he a bit of a princess?”

Taehyung laughs again, this time loud and unabated, “A little bit. Don’t let him hear you say that, though.”

“I won’t bring it up when we meet.”

And there he goes again, accidentally slipping up and making plans he won’t be able to keep.

He decides on a safer route, trying to change the subject to something where he can’t make promises he won’t be able to fulfil.

“Do you come here often?”

Taehyung shakes his head, “No, not since I was a child. I don’t like the beach much either to be honest.”

“Then why are we here?” Jimin’s puzzled. Taehyung was the one who had asked to bring him here, not giving him a say in their first date location. Jimin had presumed Taehyung wanted to do something they’d both enjoy.

“Because I knew you’d like it,” he replies, nonchalantly, as though a response like that isn’t going to tear Jimin apart.

The fondness that Jimin’s trying so hard to suppress rears its ugly head at that, at the sweetness of the other man. Along with it, an irritation at Jimin’s losing battle swirls in his stomach.

“You don’t have to do things that you don’t enjoy just because I do,” the words come out harder than Jimin had meant for them to.

“Do I look like I’m not happy?” He smiles, wide and boxy, skin glowing in the late afternoon sun. If anything, he looks like the dictionary definition of ‘happy’.

“No. I guess not,” Jimin sighs and can’t quite refuse Taehyung a wide smile back.

“As long as you’re happy so am I.”

Jimin’s stomach flips with the reality of how much Taehyung means it, the words almost dripping with earnestness. When Jimin feels his smile falter, slowly shrinking to something small and sombre, he averts his gaze, not wanting Taehyung to see how affected his words make him.

“I used to spend so much time day dreaming about doing this with you,” Taehyung’s words are soft, gentle, as though despite them being in public he wants to reserve them for just Jimin’s ears. “I keep needing to pinch myself to remember that this is real. That I can do all of those things with you now.”

Jimin knows it’s dangerous to ask, knows he should keep his mouth shut. The words slip out anyway, “What kind of things did you imagine?”

“You know, the normal things,” Taehyung averts his gaze to his feet, sheepishly kicking up the sand as he walks, “Like taking you to all the places I like, and introducing you to my friends, seeing how well you all get along with each other.

There’s this restaurant that I really like, and anytime I go I imagine taking you. Ordinary things, really—singing in the car and getting caught in the rain, lazy mornings where we don’t move from the bed or movie night's where we lounge on the sofa until we fall asleep.”

It's quiet when Taehyung finishes talking, the words swirling around the air between them.

Jimin had known from their very first meeting, since before that, truly, since he knew Taehyung had registered his mark as soon as he’d gotten it–Jimin had known that this meant something different to Taehyung. He could tell from the way Taehyung had been buzzing with excitement when they first met, that meeting his soulmate wasn’t something he was doing because the universe had told him he must. Taehyung clearly believes in this, and not just because he’s been taught to. He believes in them.

It’s going to cut so deep when Jimin proves him wrong.

“You thought about me a lot,” is all Jimin replies, his voice tight.

Somehow, the smile that has been plastered on his face since Jimin climbed into his car widens further, “Everyday. What about you? What things did you think of?”

If Jimin were to be honest, he has never had any daydreams like that about Taehyung. At least not since he was a child; before he realised a soulmate wasn’t something he was going to have.

The only times Jimin has let himself think about Taehyung was to imagine how it will play out once Jimin confesses. He hasn’t had a single nice, comforting thought of his soulmate.

Whilst Taehyung was at home, thinking of all the wonderful places he will take Jimin, imagining his friends welcoming him into their group and romanticising even the most mundane of days, simply because Jimin was by his side, Jimin had been imagining Taehyung throwing bowls of soup over his head and cursing him out in front of entire restaurants filled with people.

He can’t avoid the guilt curdling in his stomach. Jimin really has been a bad soulmate, since long before they’d even met.

So, he does what he’s becoming very good at, and he lies.

“Just the same kind of things, you meeting my friends and stuff like that.”

Taehyung’s smile falls slightly, such a small movement that if Jimin hadn’t been watching him he might’ve missed it. “Nothing more specific?”

Jimin can hear the disappointment in Taehyung’s words—the disappointment in him. And he knows that this is where it begins; this is where Taehyung starts to see the cracks, starts to realise Jimin is a phony.

He tries to mask it, to cover the obvious defects with words Taehyung would like to hear. Things that he’s never let himself imagine before.

“I like movies, too, so I guess that would be fun. Or maybe,” he hesitates for a moment, “maybe we could go dancing? I think I’d like that,” Jimin pauses, thinks for a moment. Taehyung stays quiet next to him, sensing that Jimin’s not finished, “I really like the snow too and I don’t know if it seems childish but maybe if we played in the snow together, I might enjoy that…”

It’s not lost on Jimin that his daydreams are filled with maybes and question marks, whereas Taehyung’s were definite, as though he’d already done those things and they weren’t fantastical dreams of a future they won’t have together.

“I think they all sound like easily achievable feats,” Taehyung smile returns in full force, “But I will warn you, I’ve never lost a snowball fight in my life.”

“Because you haven’t had one with me yet,” Jimin bumps their shoulders together as they walk, teasing the other.

They stroll for a while longer before they find a spot to settle into, a little alcove at the back, tucked between two sand dunes. Just far enough away from the shore that it won’t threaten to join the picnic, but close enough to see the swell of it as it rises and falls.

Taehyung unfolds the blanket, covering the sand so they can sit comfortably. He begins emptying the basket into the space between them, an assortment of all kinds of foods from dumplings to macaroons, pastries and sushi, kimbap and chopped fruits and—

“Is that a whole cheesecake?” Jimin gawks as Taehyung tries to find space on the quickly filling blanket to place the cake. He puts it between a plate of chopped watermelon and a container of what might be potato salad before he looks at Jimin with a sheepish expression.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

“So you got everything?”

He rolls his eyes, “No, not everything. I didn’t get mangoes. I knew you didn’t like them.”

Jimin frowns, “Did I put that in my file?”

He can’t remember adding anything about what foods he likes and dislikes.

“No, I just always knew you wouldn’t like them.”

Taehyung says it as though it’s a normal thing for him to know, not even bothering to look up from where he’s now trying to fit a plate of rolled egg omelette onto the blanket.

“You just knew?” Jimin presses. This is the 3rd time now Taehyung has made a presumption about Jimin that’s turned out to be correct.

He shrugs, popping a strawberry in his mouth, “More of a feeling really. You can dig in, by the way.”

The choice of food is overwhelming, the picnic turning into more of a banquet than a light al fresco lunch. Still, Jimin’s mouth waters as he looks over the food, almost everything to his taste. He settles on starting with one of the kimbaps, taking a healthy bite and humming around it as he chews.

“’s good,” he mumbles.

Taehyung smiles and follows suit, grabbing the other, “Thanks. My Mum made them for us.”

Jimin almost chokes as he swallows, the rice getting lodged in his throat. He coughs to clear it, eyes wide with surprise.

“You told your parents about me?”

“Of course. I rang them as soon as I got my mark. You didn’t?”

In all honesty, it hadn’t even crossed Jimin’s mind to tell anyone other than Yoongi and Hoseok.

Taehyung doesn’t seem phased when Jimin shakes his head.

“My Mum’s itching to meet you. I managed to satiate her for a while by letting her make some food for us, though I’m not sure how long I can hold her off,” his eyes light up with fondness as he talks about Jimin meeting his Mum.

Jimin hums, not trusting himself to not agree to more plans he’s going to have to cancel, instead, he shoves the rest of the kimbap in, filling his mouth to the brim. A few grains of rice fall from his lips, landing in his lap as he chews slowly.

“Do you want something to drink?” Taehyung asks, watching Jimin struggle with an amused smirk. He lifts the lid of the wicker basket and stares inside for a moment, eyes scanning the contents, “I brought chocolate milk, cider, americano, soju?”

“How did you fit all of this in there?” Jimin asks, completely bewildered at the immense spread on the blanket, at how Taehyung is still rooting around the contents inside.

“I’m very good at packing,” he turns to Jimin with an innocent, confused look to his face, as though he doesn’t understand where Jimin’s confusion is coming from.

Jimin lets out a baffled laugh and nods, accepting it.

“Chocolate milk will be fine."

“Coming right up,” Taehyung says, dipping his hand into the basket and stabbing the straw through the lid before passing the drink to Jimin.

Jimin had planned to break things off with Taehyung today. He had spent the 20 minutes before Taehyung picked him up trying to figure out how he was going to drop such a bombshell. He came up empty handed, quickly realising there’s no way to gently tell someone that their soulmate is broken and is willingly abandoning them before they can do it first.

He had hoped that Taehyung would have chosen a more private location for their first date, somewhere without prying eyes, somewhere that didn’t reflect any of the scenarios from Jimin’s dreams. And the beach is that, technically.

There are a few people milling around here and there, but it’s not really the season for sunning by the sea, so it’s quiet enough that no one would overhear them unless one of them were to start yelling–which might very well happen.

The beach, however, is a 2-hour drive from where Jimin lives. And it’s already late enough in the day that if Taehyung were to abandon him here (which Jimin expects him to) Jimin would have no way of getting home. By the time he’s figured out where the nearest town is, all the trains or buses would have stopped running.

So he doesn’t really have a choice but to stay quiet. And if he’s not going to ruin Taehyung’s life today, he might as well enjoy the company a little. Besides, Jimin wasn’t lying when he said he loved the beach.

Beach days are few and far between now he lives in Seoul, there’s no harm in basking in the impromptu trip while he’s here, surely?

There surely can’t be any harm in intensely listening to Taehyung’s stories, in laughing at his jokes and asking questions so the other man keeps talking, keeps drawing Jimin in deeper.

There’s no harm in Jimin responding to Taehyung's stories with ones of his own, no harm in telling Taehyung how he moved to Seoul to dance, and how he gave that dream up a few months ago after realising it wasn’t achievable. How he works in the coffee shop with Yoongi, and whilst it’s not how he imagined his future panning out, he likes it there nonetheless.

And when the sun dips too low behind the horizon, drowning the beach in darkness, there’s no harm in the way they both reluctantly pack up the picnic and head back to the car.

No harm in the way that Jimin’s heart skips a beat every time his hand brushes against Taehyung’s. No harm in the way he doesn’t pull back when Taehyung links their fingers together for a moment.

When they reach the car, Jimin hesitates, hand clasped around the door handle but eyes frozen at the sky, at the way the stars shine so brightly here where there’s no light pollution to hide them.

“The sky looks so pretty out here,” Jimin breathes, unable to look away.

“We could stay a little longer, if you want?” Taehyung offers, watching Jimin over the top of the car.

“No, it’s okay,” Jimin opens the door and climbs inside, “I just wish we could see the stars like that from the city.”

Taehyung nods, slamming his car door and starting the engine, “It’s a pity.”

————༺♡༻————

“He took me to the beach,” Jimin tells Yoongi as he’s stacking the mugs onto the shelf, drying them with the tea towel.

“He took you outside of Seoul?” Jimin nods, “On a first date?” He nods again, “Woah, that’s way more than I ever did for Seok. I just took him to a restaurant for our first date. Not even a fancy one.”

Yoongi’s sitting on the counter of the coffee shop, apron crumpled up on the side next him, discarded the second the last customer left and Jimin had switched the sign in the window to ‘closed’.

“He said he’s been dreaming about taking me there since he was a kid, used to go with his family,” Jimin’s not sure why, but he feels his cheeks heating now he’s describing the date to Yoongi.

“He seems really sweet.”

“He is,” Jimin sighs, “I wish he wasn’t. He wants to take me out again tomorrow.”

“Really? Where to?” Yoongi tries and fails to hide the smile quirking at the corner of his lips.

“He won't tell me. I think he enjoys the surprise.”

There’s a moment of quiet, the kind of silence that’s not silent at all, but filled with the anticipation of what’s said next. Jimin is well acquainted with this silence, the kind of pause in conversation that Yoongi often creates when he’s considering his next words, when he knows he probably shouldn’t say something but they both know he will.

“I’m surprised you're letting him wine and dine you like this, you know,” Yoongi says finally, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “I thought you’d have at least put up a bit of a fight, made him work for it. But you seem to be quite enjoying him courting you.”

“He’s not courting me,” Jimin turns to him, eyes wide with bewilderment. “That’s so dramatic. And definitely not what’s happening. In fact, it’s the exact opposite of what’s happening.”

Or what should be happening, at least, Jimin’s brain kindly reminds him.

“I bet he brings you a gift on your next date. Then you’ll know he’s really trying to court you,” Yoongi laughs as Jimin swats him with the tea towel, jumping off the counter and scurrying into the back room, his laughter filtering through the door as it swings shut.

Taehyung does, in fact, bring Jimin a gift when he picks him up for his date the following evening. Jimin’s face burns as Taehyung presents the small bouquet of flowers, and he blames Yoongi for it.

“They made me think of you,” Taehyung says, either completely oblivious to Jimin’s mortification, or deciding to ignore it, “Flowers for the flower.”

Jimin groans, hiding his face in the bouquet as the red of his cheeks deepens “Never say that again.”

Taehyung giggles, opening the passenger door for Jimin to slip inside, “But you are a flower.”

“Stop,” Jimin whinges, glaring at Taehyung as he shuts the door and rounds the front of the car, mischievous smile still on his face as he slides into the driver’s seat.

“You’re a combination of all the best ones; pink carnations, yellow roses, little baby’s breath and, obviously, cherry blossoms,” Taehyung tells him, listing off all the flowers that make up Jimin’s bouquet.

Jimin rolls his eyes, but he has a hard time keeping his smile at bay, a bubble of laughter fighting its way to the surface.

“So stupid,” he mutters, but he can’t take his eyes off the flowers sitting on his lap, wrapped up in brown paper and tied together with a blue ribbon.

No one’s ever bought Jimin flowers before. It’s the kind of gesture that’s saved for your soulmate, never wasted on the casual partners people flow through whilst waiting for their mark to appear.

It’s the kind of romantic gesture that Jimin always thought would make him uncomfortable, his hands growing clammy and heart rate picking up at the implication of such a gesture.

He feels neither of those things though, as he stares down at the delicate petals, his hands aren’t sweaty, and other than the way his heartbeat always skyrockets when he’s with Taehyung, the beats aren’t pounding in his ears as he would expect them to.

It takes a moment for Jimin to realise it was the lack of implication that set him so naturally at ease. When Taehyung handed the flowers over, it was with a joke and a smile, and then they quickly breezed past it, as though it was no big deal, as though there was no romantic implications to such a thing.

Since yesterday, Jimin has been dealing with the aftermath of Yoongi describing their dates as ‘courting’. He knows Yoongi meant it mainly as a joke, poking fun at how easily Jimin seems to have fallen into this, despite his worries only a few days ago.

As he tried to sleep last night, the conversation played on repeat in his mind. Jimin tossed and turned as he struggled to categorise what ‘courting’ really meant, and if that’s what Taehyung’s doing. If that’s why he’s bringing him flowers and whisking him away on surprise dates

In Jimin’s mind, the idea of ‘courting’ is a picture of disgustingly romantic, over the top displays of affection. It’s insistent reminders of the intentions of their acts, the concept of love and marriage never once forgotten, as they woo and romance their prospective partner.

Taehyung has done none of those things. Not once has he created an environment so clearly romantic it made Jimin’s skin crawl. There hasn’t been a single time Jimin has felt as though Taehyung was trying to ‘woo’ him.

On each of their dates the only intention that was clear to Jimin was that Taehyung wants to spend time with him, he wants to do things to make Jimin happy as they get to know one another.

Perhaps Jimin is interpreting them wrong. It has happened before, and will most likely happen again. One of the most difficult parts about Jimin’s heart not working correctly is he sometimes forgets that other people's hearts do. It’s easy for him to misinterpret romantic gestures as simply friendly ones.

But other than his growing anxiety of the situation he’s in, Taehyung himself has never done anything to make Jimin’s fight or flight instincts kick in—which is an embarrassingly common reaction his body has when things turn even slightly too romantic.

Perhaps, Jimin thinks, if Taehyung is trying to court Jimin, his version of courting might not be too bad, after all.

“Do you want to know what we’re doing today?” Taehyung asks, almost bouncing in his seat with excitement.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Yes. So,” he clears his throat, “I have work this evening, and I wanted to bring you along.”

Jimin frowns, “You want to take me to work with you?”

He knows from Taehyung’s file that he’s a bartender, and on a Saturday night he won't have much free time to be keeping Jimin company.

“It’s not really a conventional date, but the bar I work in means a lot to me. As do the people I work with, and I thought it might be nice to take you there to see it. And meet my friends. Two birds, one stone kind of situation,” there’s a nervousness lining his words as he speaks, something that wasn’t even present during their first meeting.

“Won’t you be busy?”

Jimin doesn’t particularly like the idea of being left by himself in a crowded bar while Taehyung’s busy serving.

“A little, but it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Jimin doesn’t have a choice. It’s not as though he can ask Taehyung to do something else, not with Taehyung needing to clock in soon. And it seems like a waste of an evening to just head home.

Not that he wants to spend the evening with Taehyung—he’s supposed to be distancing himself, which is still the plan—despite the fact that this is the second time this week that Jimin has let Taehyung take him out. But Jimin likes going new places. He enjoys finding new bars to drink in, and he’s never heard of the one Taehyung works in before. There can’t be any harm in seeing what it’s like, even if the only thing he gets out of it is a new watering hole he can recommend to Yoongi.

Taehyung parks the car around the back, a dimly lit loading bay that probably isn’t meant to double as a car park. From here, the bar could be any other building in central Seoul, until Taehyung opens the door and the night is filled with live music and muted chatter coming from within.

The door opens into a long corridor, a winding staircase at the end that Jimin follows Taehyung up, the music growing muffled as they climb. He leads them into what Jimin presumes is the staffroom.

A beat-up leather sofa is pushed against one wall, a dark wood unit against the other, the cubbies filled with records and bags. Taehyung stuffs his leather sling bag in one of the empty ones, hanging his coat on the rack behind the door, gesturing for Jimin’s as he does.

“Am I allowed to be in here?” Jimin asks, slipping off his white denim jacket and handing it to Taehyung.

“You’re with me, of course you are.”

There’s a floor length mirror propped against the wall next to the sofa, a large black frame carved into intricate swirls and flowers encloses the glass that Taehyung’s peering into, fixing an out of place strand of hair. He stands up straight, pulling his shoulders back and lets out a deep breath, fogging up the mirror as he does.

“Show time!” He says, spinning to face Jimin and reaching out a hand for him to take.

There isn’t even a moment of hesitation before Jimin’s linking his fingers with Taehyung’s, letting him lead them out the door and back down the stairs.

They’re halfway down the staircase when Jimin’s hand grows clammy, realisation washing over him of how naturally he had taken Taehyung’s hand, how familiar it feels having Taehyung’s fingers laced with his own.

Jimin’s hand goes lax as the telltale signs of panic rears its head. It can’t be for more than a second, but it’s long enough for Taehyung to notice, tightening his grip where Jimin’s faltered and turning to him with a small smile, as if to tell him that it’s okay.

Jimin squeezes his hand in response, and lets himself be led down the rest of the stairs.

They head in the opposite direction as before, walking past the door they entered through and towards the music. At the end of the corridor is a red velvet curtain, separating the back space from the main bar. Jimin’s gasp gets lodged in his throat when Taehyung pulls back the curtain.

The bar is stunning, all deep wood and red velvet, classy in a way that would put the bars Jimin frequents to shame.

Where they stand is elevated slightly from the main area, so Jimin gets a clear view of the space over the top of the crowd—a crowd which is thick and bustling, full of life and busier than Jimin had expected for a bar he didn’t know existed.

Directly to the right of them, the back wall is full, its entire length occupied by the bar, a sleek mahogany top framed with golden edging, reflecting the dim lighting from the low hanging lamps atop it.

Every brown leather bar stool is occupied, each patron dressed to the nines, cocktail in hand and vibe immaculate. Luckily Taehyung doesn’t head towards the crowd at the bar, instead he makes his way down the short staircase and towards the front of the club, winding Jimin between tables until he reaches the booth at the very front, directly to the left of the stage where the band are playing

“I reserved the best table for you, of course,” he smiles, letting go of Jimin’s hand so he can slide into the seat.

“This place is crazy,” Jimin breathes, sliding across the leather to sit next to Taehyung.

“It’s pretty cool, huh?”

Jimin nods, his eyes scanning the large room trying to take in all the details at once. There are multiple booths skirting the edge of either side of the room, each one curved and facing the stage. The centre of the room is filled with small round tables, a single tealight in a lantern flickering on each one. At the front is the stage, large velvet curtains hang from the ceiling behind where the band are captured in the spotlight, a muted glow to draw attention to them without breaking up the relaxed atmosphere of the rest of the club.

The walls are covered in an intricate black and red design, but Jimin can barely make it out for the framed pictures hung on almost every empty space. Old concert posters, black and white photos and minimalistic artwork fill the walls above the two rows of booths.

“When there isn’t live music on, the tables get moved out to the back so there’s space to dance.”

Jimin hums at that, his brain filling with discotheque scenes straight from a 1920’s film.

“I feel like we’ve gone back in time. You really work here?” Jimin asks, turning back to Taehyung, who’s watching him observe the room.

“Unfortunately,” a new voice answers, a man Jimin doesn’t know stops in front of their table, rolling his eyes in mock disdain.

Taehyung laughs, “Hyung, don’t be mean.”

“What? This place has been on a dramatic decline since you started working here.”

“Funny,” Taehyung deadpans, “I’m pretty sure it was only a few months ago that you were begging me to come back.”

The man lets out an exaggerated gasp, “I was not begging.”

“You were practically on your knees, crying, pleading for me to work for you again.”

“That did not happen,” the man says, turning his attention to Jimin, “He is full of lies. Don’t trust a thing he tells you.”

“Ahhhh, how are you going to tell my own soulmate not to trust me?” Taehyung clicks his tongue, “Jiminie can tell if I’m lying because of our bond. Your words will not phase him.”

Two drastic thoughts flicker through Jimin’s mind then. Firstly – Jiminie? Taehyung’s calling him by cute names now? Things must be escalating faster than he expected. He needs to put a pin in this now (and not just because his stomach swooped with pleasure at the nickname).

Secondly, can soulmates really tell when the other is lying? If so, Jimin is really fucked. Practically all he has done since meeting Taehyung is lie to him or withhold information.

If Taehyung knew every time, Jimin can only imagine the confusing turmoil he must be putting him through.

Does this also mean that Taehyung hasn’t lied to Jimin once since meeting him? Jimin’s never had any kind of inkling or weird soulmate spidey sense that Taehyung might not be telling him the truth.

The guilt curdles further at that thought.

“Of course. Jimin,” The man says, breaking Jimin out of his downward spiral of thoughts, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Although, truth be told, Taehyung has already told me so much about you that I feel as if I already know you.”

“Hyung!” Taehyung says, his voice slightly too high.

“I’m Seokjin, Taehyung’s boss—”

“He’s not my boss.”

“— But you can call me hyung,” he reaches out a hand for Jimin to shake, smiling sweetly despite Taehyung’s interjections.

“Nice to meet you, Seokjin hyung,” Jimin says, shaking his hand.

“Would you like a drink?” Seokjin asks.

“Just get us two of the house cocktails, please,” Taehyung answers before Jimin gets the chance to, “You’ll like it, promise,” he adds when Jimin side-eyes him.

“Coming up,” Seokjin says, spinning on his heel and marching off towards the bar.

“He seems nice,” Jimin says once Seokjin’s out of earshot.

“He is. Seokjin hyung was my first friend when I moved to Seoul.” Taehyung smiles something soft, as if reminiscing.His face sobers quickly, the smile wiping off as he clarifies, “He isn’t my boss though. He likes to claim he is just to annoy me, but he’s not. He’s the bar manager.”

“I thought you worked at the bar?”

“I do. But Namjoon hyung is my boss, he’s the club owner,” Taehyung explains, “I’m sure you’ll meet him soon. He’s probably lurking around somewhere.”

“Ah, okay,” Jimin says, turning to observe the crowd as though he could spot Namjoon, even though he has no idea what the man looks like.

As Jimin glances from person to person, a heavy ball drops in his stomach. He hadn’t realised the bar they were coming to was quite as fancy as this; everyone Jimin can see is dressed in suits and cocktail dresses, the women with their hair curled into perfect ringlets or pinned up to expose the disgustingly large earrings dripping from their lobes. The men are all freshly groomed, faces clean shaven and hair perfectly styled. The essence of their perfumes after they waltz past Jimin’s table is enough for him to smell their money, the scents linger, telling him the bottles they come from cost more than he can afford.

With this being a date, Jimin got dressed up, of course. But in his baby blue silk shirt and white jeans he’s feeling a little out of place. His hair is styled, the blond strands pushed back off his face to reveal his forehead, his ears decked out in his favourite hoops, and he even spent some time applying a little makeup.

In all honesty, he was slightly worried he’d overdone it, expecting their date to be in your average, run-of-the-mill bar. He wasn’t prepared for somewhere quite as classy as this.

Taehyung is wearing pastel blue trousers not too dissimilar in colour to Jimin’s shirt, a white shirt tucked in neatly, the edge of the collar decorated with white pearls and finished with a blue and cream scarf knotted expertly and tucked under the collar.

Jimin had presumed that with him working tonight he needed to follow a certain dress code, hence the more formal attire. But the other bar staff are dressed in black waistcoats and white shirts–bar Seokjin, who has a deep red satin waistcoat on that signals he’s in charge.

He supposes Taehyung hasn’t changed into his work uniform yet, but had the forethought to dress up enough that he would match the dress code of the club for the minimal time he would be sitting with Jimin.

“Should I have dressed up more?” Jimin asks Taehyung after a few moments of worrying his lip.

“What?” Taehyung frowns, running his eyes over Jimin’s sitting form.

“Everyone here is dressed very formally. I feel a little underdressed.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows draw together, “Not at all, you look wonderful.”

“You look very smart,” Jimin reaches out a hand to flick the silk material of Taehyung’s scarf where one of the two ties hangs against his chest, “Much smarter than I look.”

“I always dress smart,” Jimin hums in agreement. Each time the two have met, Taehyung has been dressed more formally than the occasion required, “But you don’t have to worry, you look incredibly handsome.”

“I didn’t realise it was so fancy here,” Jimin explains, hoping that the dim lighting will cover the dusting of pink on his cheeks at Taehyung’s compliment.

“You could have turned up in your pyjamas and still looked better than everyone else here.”

Jimin can’t help the laugh that ricocheted out of him, barely managing to hold himself back from folding into Taehyung as he giggles.

“Almost everyone,” Seokjin says, approaching their table with a tray of two cocktails balanced with a skilled ease on the flat of his hand, “It would take much more effort than that to outshine this face,” he makes a circle in the air in front of his face with his free hand.

“Will you stop interrupting!” Taehyung says, but he’s smiling widely as he speaks.

Seokjin lowers the tray down on the table, placing a drink in front of Jimin and then Taehyung.

Jimin can’t help but notice the lack of a mark on Seokjin’s left hand as he slides the glass over to Jimin, his forearm bare all the way to the rolled-up sleeve of his crisp white shirt.

“You start in 10,” Seokjin tells Taehyung, giving them both a small bow before he disappears, tray tucked under his arm.

“You’re leaving soon?” Jimin asks before he can acknowledge the implications of a question like that. Especially when it’s paired with the disappointment he feels knowing he’ll be sat alone in the booth soon.

“Duty calls. Not for too long though.”

Jimin darts his eyes away from Taehyung before he can say something stupid like ‘good’. Instead, he stares at his drink, his eyes widening as he takes in the cocktail sitting in front of him. It’s poured into a ridged, vintage coup glass, elegant and classy, just like the club.

The cocktail itself is blue, the liquid starting as an almost clear pastel deepening to a navy the further down the glass it travels, a slight sparkle to the liquid. Laid over the lip of the glass is a metal toothpick, two red cherries and a thin peel of lemon twisted around them

“You should try it, it’s nice,” Taehyung says, lifting his glass to take a sip as if to encourage Jimin to do the same.

Jimin follows suit, placing the toothpick on the napkin and lifting the glass to his lips. His brows raise instantly, turning to Taehyung with wide eyes as the liquid hits his taste buds, a tantalising mixture of fruity and floral, not a hint of burning alcohol anywhere to be found.

“Good right?”

Jimin nods, taking another sip.

“Seokjin hyung worked on getting this right for weeks. It’s his biggest accomplishment.”

“’s good,” Jimin says, swallowing, “I see why he’s your boss now.”

“Not you too,” Taehyung moans, slumping back into the seat with faux defeat.

Jimin laughs, placing the drink back on the table.

“You mentioned that he begged you to come back. Did you leave for a while?” Jimin asks, curious as to what Taehyung’s back story is.

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, sitting back up straight, “For a few months. I went travelling around the country, working in bars here and there. But eventually, I came back here to Blue.”

“After Seokjin hyung begged you,” Jimin teases.

Taehyung’s eyes shine as he looks around the large room, “Don’t tell him this, but this club has always been my favourite.”

“How long have you worked here?”

“Just over 2 years now, if you don’t include the few months I was away.”

“But you’ve known Seokjin hyung for longer?”

Jimin knows that Taehyung moved to Seoul around the same time Jimin did for university.

Taehyung nods, confirming what Jimin already knew, “We were neighbours, but we weren’t all that close before he got me the job here. Put in a good word with Namjoon hyung for me.”

Jimin hums, taking another sip from his drink. Most of the tables have filled up now, everyone slowly drifting away from the bar to enjoy the music. A few stragglers remain, leaning against the bar top or seated on the stools, the tables too few to home everyone in the club.

A few minutes later Seokjin signals Taehyung from behind the bar, waving his arms over his head to get his attention.

“That’ll be my cue,” Taehyung says, “If you want another drink just let hyung know, he’ll get you whatever you want.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing back up the steps towards the back rooms, leaving Jimin alone in the too large booth.

For a while, Jimin sips on his cocktail enjoying the ambience as he people watches, offering warm, closed-mouthed smiles to anyone who catches his eye.

The atmosphere in Blue is unlike anything Jimin has experienced in a bar before. It’s as clear as day that every part of the club has been curated with such precision the outcome is entirely unique to this room. It’s the kind of place Jimin could seem himself frequenting solely for the purpose of being unable to find the specific feeling created within these four walls anywhere else.

A few minutes into Jimin’s people watching, the music flowing through the room filters out as the song draws to an end, a notable silence replaces it as the band prepare for their next set, shuffling their instruments back to make space for a microphone to stand centre stage.

Chatter and laughter had been audible over the harmony of the band. Now, though, they all drop their voices to a whisper, a hush falling over them as a palpable quiet fills the room.

It takes a moment of Jimin observing them to realise they’ve all turned towards the stage, the reason for their quiet has little to do with the volume of the music and all to do with the figure approaching the microphone.

The lights dim lower, the small lamp at the centre of the round table in Jimin’s booth fades to a barely there amber glow. And then, to Jimin’s shock, the lights on the stage lift into a muted spotlight highlighting the centre of the stage, zoning in on where Taehyung steps up to the microphone, a small smile on his face as the band starts playing the opening notes of a song.

Taehyung had written extensively about Blue in his file, had filled the entire ‘occupation’ section with the work he does, how he adores working alongside his friends and could never imagine himself anywhere else. What he had clearly failed to mention, though, was that his job title was not solely reserved to ‘Bartender’.

It only takes one look at the audience for Jimin to realise Taehyung performing here isn’t a one-off. Every face in the audience is beaming up to him, eyes wide with adoration as he croons out the beginning notes of the song.

The lighting is dim, but Jimin can still make out the way the audience sings along through the shadows. One woman sitting at the table nearest to Jimin’s booth has her eyes closed, swaying in time to the tempo.

Surprise riddles his mind again at the realisation that everyone in this room came here specifically to see Taehyung perform.

Jimin seems to be the only person who doesn’t recognise the song. He gauges it’s something to do with rain, but too many of the words are in English for him to fully interpret the meaning.

Once he’s turned away from the audience, his eyes easily travel back to Taehyung, he doesn’t want to look away, the man so captivating Jimin doesn’t dare blink, not wanting to miss even a split second of the performance.He wants to catch it all; every hum into the microphone, every sway of Taehyung’s hips in time with the music, each smirk and wink that leaves the audience flustered.

Jimin can’t remember ever seeing someone look as at home on a stage as Taehyung does, oozing confidence and charisma that Jimin’s only seen hints of over the past few days.

The song changes then, something slower, more of a jazz ballad than the mid-tempo of the song before. Taehyung moves closer to the microphone as he sings, hands clasped on the microphone stand, voice filled with emotion.

There’s something so sensual about the way Taehyung runs his hands up and down the stand, about the way he leans into the microphone, pressing his top lip against it as he sways into it, never missing a beat.

Jimin is utterly bewitched.

Cheers fill the hall as the song ends, Taehyung responding with a dazzling smile and a coy “Thanks,” that juxtaposes the confidence radiating off him as he performs.

“Next I’m going to sing a new song I’ve been working on, if that’s okay?” He asks the audience. His small laugh is picked up by the microphone as the audience show their excitement for some new music.

The song starts with a lone saxophone playing softly, filling the club with its rich tones before Taehyung’s vocals filter in as he begins to sing.

It’s odd, Jimin thinks, to hear a voice so warm it feels like home. He never thought he would describe a voice as ‘safe’ before, but that’s exactly how listening to Taehyung makes him feel. He finds himself closing his eyes to fully absorb the music, swaying gently as his world zeros to nothing but the syrupy lilt of Taehyung’s voice, losing himself in the music.

“I’ve never recognised a purer face, you stopped me right in my tracks and put me back in my place,” Taehyung sings in earnest,“Used to think that loving meant a painful chase, but you’re right here now and I think you’ll stay.”

When Jimin slowly opens his eyes, the room coming back into focus, Taehyung is already looking at him from beneath the spotlight.

His breath catches in his throat, because shit Taehyung is handsome. This isn’t news to Jimin, but the other man is striking as he stands clearly in his element, his dark eyes twinkling as they reflect the light, filled with the same sincerity his words are.

As he sings the next few lines, there’s no hiding who they’re written about, not when he’s staring directly at Jimin as he sings them.

“The truth is this; I’ve never seen a mouth that I would kill to kiss and I’m terrified, but I can't resist.”

Jimin’s heart is in his throat as the words sink in, as he realises that Taehyung isn’t just singing any love song; he’s singing one he wrote for Jimin. It takes all of Jimin’s energy to keep his emotions in check as Taehyung continues to sing. His eyes well up at the beautiful words and the painful heartbreak they foreshadow.

“Beautiful stranger here you are in my arms, and I think it’s finally, finally, finally, finally, finally safe for me to fall.”

He’s unable to look away as Taehyung sings the words Jimin’s been so terrified of hearing, his fear bubbling to the surface as he realises there’s no way for either of them to get out of this unscathed now. They’ve only met 3 times, and Taehyung is already writing Jimin love songs.

“oh, oh oh.”

Taehyung is everything Jimin could have wished for and more.

There hasn’t been a moment since their meeting that Jimin had doubted that–his soulmate is perfect in every conceivable way. And Jimin wishes, painstakingly so, that he could reflect Taehyung’s words, that he too could feel safe enough to let himself fall.

“Oh, oh, oh.”

But Jimin knows that’s not how this plays out. Even if he could grant himself permission to fall, he knows it would never be in the way that Taehyung is singing about. Never in the way that Taehyung deserves.

“I think it’s finally, finally, finally…”

The music fades out, drawing the song to its end. Taehyung’s eyes remain glued to Jimin’s even as the room erupts into cheers. They stare at one another for a moment longer, Taehyung’s face an open book of the sincerity he poured out into the song.

Jimin can only hope his doesn’t reflect the pain he’s trying so hard to mask.

Taehyung breaks it after what feels like a lifetime, Jimin finally feeling as though he can take a breath.

“Did you like that one?” Taehyung asks the crowd, laughing again as they respond with claps and cheers, “It’s still a bit of a work in progress, but I wanted to share it with you today as a small gift.”

His eyes flick back to Jimin for a moment then, letting him know that the gift wasn’t for any of his fans in the crowd. Taehyung specifically performed it today because he knew Jimin would be in the audience.

“This next song is called Scenery. Sing along if you know it.”

The moment the music starts up again, Jimin feels himself getting lost in it once more. His anxieties quickly replaced by awe at the magnetism of Taehyung on stage. As he listens to Taehyung sing, the ball in his throat slowly loosens, slipping away to nothing.

“I was going to ask if you wanted another drink, but you’ve barely touched that one,” Seokjin says, dragging Jimin back down to reality with a jolt. He nods towards Jimin’s almost full glass now sitting in a puddle of melted ice, “Did you not like it? I can make you something else.”

“No, it’s delicious!” Jimin quickly reassures, “I just forgot about it.”

Jimin can’t help the way his eyes drift back to Taehyung. He’s not trying to be rude, but he’s finding it increasingly difficult to keep his gaze anywhere other than on the stage.

“Ah, of course,” Seokjin laughs and slides into the seat next to Jimin, “He’s incredible, isn’t he?”

Jimin nods, not trusting his voice to find words strong enough to describe the visceral feeling he gets watching Taehyung perform.

“I was just as blown away the first time I saw him too. I knew instantly that I needed to get Namjoon to let him perform. Couldn’t have all that talent going to waste.”

That catches Jimin’s attention, turning his head towards Seokjin slightly as he asks, “He didn’t sing before you met?”

“Not professionally. He was a beast at noraebang though. Purposefully ‘forgetting’ to tell everyone that he has an incredible voice just so he could see their reactions when he started to sing.”

Jimin laughs, “I can imagine.”

Not that he needs to, that’s essentially what Taehyung did to him.

They watch Taehyung in silence then, Seokjin quietly singing along to the songs, knowing each one word for word. Jimin remembers to drink more of his cocktail, not wanting to insult Seokjin or waste the drink—he wasn’t lying when he said it was delicious.

Another man joins them after a few minutes, he offers Jimin a wide, dimpled grin, introduces himself as Namjoon and settles into the empty space the other side of Seokjin.

“We’ve heard so much about you already,” Namjoon says, leaning forward slightly so he can see Jimin. “Taehyung quite literally hasn’t shut up about you.”

Jimin smiles back at him, tries to hide the guilt from his face as he does. Tries not to think about how he was hoping Taehyung would finally take him somewhere private so he could end things (he definitely doesn’t think about how relieved he was when they walked into a busy club instead). As soon as Taehyung told Jimin they were heading to his work, he knew there was no way he could break his heart tonight. From Taehyung’s file it was clear that Blue means a lot to him, and seeing the way his face lit up just speaking about it, Jimin knew he couldn’t spoil his safe place by breaking his heart here.

Taehyung informs the audience that the next song will be his last. He pretends to get shy when the audience responds with a chorus of aww’s, turning his face down and covering it with one of his hands.

“He’s such a natural,” Jimin says, smiling fondly at the show Taehyung’s putting on for the audience.

“You know, he’s had multiple offers from record labels to sign him,” Namjoon says, “Big names too, offering him lots of money, more each time he refused them.”

“He turned them down?”

“Said he was more than content with playing small venues like this.”

Jimin frowns, confused as to why Taehyung would turn down such an offer when he clearly loves being on stage.

“But he’s so talented, why wouldn’t he want more?”

Namjoon just smiles, small but sweet, “He wants a simple life. Told me once that there’s 2 things he needs in life: his band and his soulmate. And now you’re here I’m sure he’s pretty content.”

Jimin forces a small smile at Namjoon’s words, quickly blinking away the tears that begin to resurface at them.

Seokjin lets out a dramatic sigh, “He drove us mad when he first got his mark. Constantly talking about it and the things he was going to do when he finally met you.”

“You should have seen him the day his mark appeared; he was like a little kid on Christmas,” Namjoon says, “It was insufferable.”

“How did he react?” Jimin asks, knowing he shouldn’t.

“He showed the mark to every person who walked into the bar, didn’t stop smiling the entire day. Every time I looked over to him, he was smiling to himself like a madman,”

Seokjin says, “I don’t think he’s stopped smiling since, now I think about it.”

Over the past 5 days that Jimin’s known Taehyung, he can’t think of a time when the other wasn’t smiling, either.

“While he was waiting for his file he kept trying to ask us to make guesses, to predict what you’d be like, what your name was, where you were from. Drove us all mad,” Namjoon says, but he’s smiling as he talks.

“It got to the point where we started making up the most ludicrous stuff just to get him to stop asking,” Seokjin laughs, “One time I started describing myself. Took him an embarrassingly long time to catch on.”

Both of them keel over into a fit of laughter then, Seokjin clapping his hands as he wheezes, falling into Namjoon’s side at the memory.

The more they talk the further down the guilt spiral Jimin falls. Because his day following waking up to his mark was so drastically different. He didn’t even let himself dare think about Taehyung or what he might be like. He second-guessed even showing his mark to Yoongi, and here Taehyung was parading it around like he was proud of it.

Jimin takes a lengthy sip of his drink, trying to drown the uncomfortable turmoil in his stomach with alcohol.

On the stage, the last notes of Taehyung’s final song dwindle out, the crowd erupting into applause as he bows, the spotlight fading out until the room is left with only the dim glowing of the lamps.

Jimin watches him step down from the stage, the moment Taehyung’s feet make contact with the carpet he’s swarmed by people rushing to congratulate him on an incredible performance.

(There’s something in Jimin’s small smile as he watches, something in the softens of his eyes as the crowd surrounding Taehyung slowly grows, that one might compare to pride for the other man. Something which, if Jimin were accused of, he’d deny within an inch of his life.)

As Taehyung catches his eye through the shoulders of his adoring fans and lifts a hand to wave in Jimin’s direction, smile wide and bright enough it would render the spotlight redundant, Jimin can’t help but reflect the same smile back to him.

Once Namjoon and Seokjin have gotten control of themselves, they continue the conversation where they left off—much to Jimin’s dismay.

“He was like that before too,” Namjoon says, “always annoying us with soulmate stuff.”

“He really believes in the soulmate system?”

Jimin figures whilst he waits for Taehyung to return, this time could be useful for getting some information out of his friends, things that Jimin’s too scared to ask Taehyung directly–like if he truly believes they’re made for one another, flaws included too.

Namjoon scoffs, “He was always telling us about the things you like, going on and on about how he just knew you’d like a certain outfit he was wearing or film he watched.

He always made sure he had cheese balls in the house because he knew you loved them and wanted there to be a snack in his home for you, made sure to always stock white wine because he knew that was your favourite type. Honestly, even as someone with a soulmate, it was kind of annoying,” Namjoon laughs, Jimin catches a glimpse of the red mark on his hand now he’s mentioned it.

Seokjin turns to Jimin with a kind smile, “He was smitten with you before you even met.”

Jimin ignores that comment, can’t think too intensely about how deep Taehyung’s feelings for him already run. Instead, he frowns, focusing on what Namjoon said.

“How could he possibly have known those things?”

He doesn’t say it aloud, but both of those things are true. Jimin does love cheese balls and white wine. How Taehyung could know before even knowing Jimin’s name is beyond him.

“Just soulmate things, you know?” Namjoon replies, “Like how you would have known random things about Taehyung before the two of you met.”

Jimin stares at Namjoon blankly, “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, “Like how before I met my soulmate I knew he was really sensitive to smells. I always made sure my home had nice gentle smells in case we met randomly. Things like that.”

When Jimin doesn’t respond straight away, his face still blank even after the explanation, the two glance at one another, a silent conversation passing through the air between them.

“You must have some stuff that you knew about Taehyung before you met him…?” Seokjin asks, hesitantly.

“I don’t know—I didn’t really…” Jimin starts, his words fading as he realises he can’t think of a single thing that made him think of Taehyung before they met.

“Sometimes it’s hard to figure out,” Seokjin adds, his voice filled with an enthusiasm Jimin imagines is supposed to be comforting, “My soulmate is full of contradictions; he likes black clothes, that I know for sure. But I also think of him every time I see brightly coloured and patterned things. And he loves dancing–I think it might be his job–but I also get the feeling he really loves lying down and napping too…” He explains, his eyes widening with excitement the more he talks about his soulmate.

Seokjin confirming that even though he hasn’t met his soulmate he still knows so much about him makes Jimin’s stomach drop. How could Seokjin have not even been in the same room as his soulmate before and yet still know more about him than Jimin does about Taehyung?

A fear starts scratching underneath Jimin’s skin, something that’s telling him that perhaps his anxiety towards meeting his soulmate had a more lasting effect than just restless nights and tearful confessions to Yoongi.

Is it possible that his refusal to even think about his soulmate has somehow blocked certain experiences that should have come so naturally to him?

“I’m intrigued to meet him,” Namjoon says, “The things you know about him already make me think he’s a very interesting character.”

“He’s going to have to be if he’s Seokjin hyung’s soulmate,” Taehyung says from behind Jimin, sliding into the booth to join them now his posse have disbanded, flooding to the bar now the main show’s over.

The band resume playing, filling in the gaps in conversation with a lively buzz.

Taehyung sits closer to Jimin than he had before, his arm slung over the back of the seat, not touching Jimin but at such an angle that he’s naturally leaning towards him.

In spite of their consternated conversation, all it takes is Jimin feeing Taehyung’s presence for his body to subconsciously relax, sinking further into the seat, the tension in his stomach lessening.

Jimin's earlier worries begin to slip away, clouding over with the fog being near Taehyung brings, making it increasingly more difficult to keep his mind on track.

“They were telling me about how you could’ve been famous?” Jimin rushes out, wanting to change the subject before Namjoon or Seokjin lets slip that Jimin’s a terrible soulmate.

“Of course they were,” he rolls his eyes, “They brag about that to everyone who’ll listen, as if it was them who got scouted.”

“We’re just proud of you!” Namjoon defends.

“Are we not allowed to be proud hyung's?”

“Proud that I turned them down so I can sing in your bar instead,” Taehyung retorts.

“You never wanted more?”

Jimin can’t help but pry. After the show that he just witnessed, it seems almost insane that Taehyung wouldn’t be hungry for more.

He just shrugs, finishes off the dregs of his cocktail and says, “Not really. I did a few small tours across the country, playing in different clubs here and there. It was fun, but there’s something about having a home base that’s always really appealed to me.”

“That, and the extortionate amount of money that we pay you to play exclusively at our club,” Seokjin murmurs, not quite under his breath enough that Taehyung can’t hear him.

Taehyung laughs and leans closer to Seokjin at the challenge, his side pressing tighter against Jimin now he’s almost leaning over him.

“Tell me, hyung, when was the last time you had a Saturday night where you didn’t have to turn people away at the door?”

Seokjin gasps, placing a hand over his chest as if surprised by the question. “Do you really think a small, niche bar like this could ever be popular enough to have to turn people away? We’re barely making enough money to keep the lights on. Why do you think they’re always so dimmed?”

“That,” Taehyung points at Seokjin, his eyebrows raised, “is a bare-faced lie.”

Namjoon laughs, “We had a queue 100 deep before we’d even opened the doors today.”

Seokjin gasps again, turning in his seat to face Namjoon, “You traitor. I thought it was our job to keep his ego intact.”

“Pretty sure that’s Jimin’s job now,” he replies, standing.

“Good luck,” Seokjin whispers to Jimin, taking that as his cue to exit the booth too.

“We’ve taken up enough of your evening, but it was lovely to meet you, Jimin,” Namjoon says before disappearing.

“You are just as wonderful as Taehyung described, but, unfortunately,” Seokjin gestures towards the now crowded bar, “duty calls.”

Their booth is quiet for a while after the pair leave, just the gentle music breaking up the silence.

Jimin can feel Taehyung’s eyes boring into the side of his face, he can’t help but shy away from it, diverting his attention to anywhere other than the man sitting next to him. Their too large booth and dim lighting suddenly feeling far too intimate

“What did you think?” Taehyung asks after a while, voice hush.

“They’re very nice. Seem like good hyungs.”

“They are. I’m glad you approve of them.” Taehyung hums. “But I wasn’t talking about my friends. I meant how was the show?”

“Oh, right.” Obviously. “You’re very good,” is what Jimin says. The under-exaggeration of the century.

“You enjoyed it?”

“Mhm.”

He risks a glance at Taehyung and regrets it instantly when he’s greeted with his wide smile, eyes sparkling with delight at Jimin’s weak compliments.

Even now they have the whole booth to themselves Taehyung hasn’t shuffled back from where he’s pressed against Jimin’s side, his arm still casually looped over the back of the booth, hand dangling centimetres from Jimin’s shoulder but still not closing the distance to touch him. Their faces are a hair's breadth away from each other now Jimin’s tilted his head slightly so he can face Taehyung.

If there were ever a time for Jimin’s instincts to kick in it would be right now, with the way butterflies seem to have taken up residence in his tummy, beating their wings in time with the soft bass of the music, it should be more than enough for him to remember himself, to slide to the other end of the booth and make up some half-plausible excuse as to why he must excuse himself immediately.

Instead, it’s as though he’s glued to the seat, not a single limb on his body making a move to excavate himself from the situation. And he can feel it, that pull. Can’t deny it from this distance. Wouldn’t really want to if he had a choice, either.

“You’re radiant on stage,” Jimin says, his voice hushed, as though they were trading secrets with one another, “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“Good.”

They’re sat so close to one another that Jimin feels the words more than he hears them, Taehyung’s breath lightly dusting over his cheekbones. When he brings his arm down from the top of the booth to finally close the distance between them,

Jimin struggles not to let out a sigh as he relaxes, every muscle in his body at ease now his soulmate is softly tracing his jawline with the back of his hand.

“I always envisioned us singing together,” Taehyung’s eyes follow the movement of his hand as it sketches the line to Jimin’s ear, his fingers gliding over the silver rings dangling from his lobes. Each slight brush against his neck has shivers cascading across Jimin’s body.

“I’d like that,” Jimin manages, his voice barely a whisper.

Their eyes meet then and Jimin’s no fool, he knows that look in Taehyung’s eye.

Jimin may be a novice to soulmate bonds, but he’s seen that lustful gaze directed towards him more times than he can count, he recognises the hunger as Taehyung’s eyes drift down to Jimin’s lips. He knows what comes next.

Taehyung’s hands stills, his fingers threading through Jimin’s hair as he tilts his head slightly, angling Jimin so their noses brush against one another.

It’s only then that Jimin’s senses return to him, the lyrics to Taehyung’s song playing on surround sound in his mind; ‘I’ve never seen a mouth that i would kill to kiss’, and judging by the way Taehyung’s looking at him, Jimin believes every word.

The urgency of the warning doesn’t quite pass on to his movements, his head still sluggish as he looks down at his lap, the rejection obvious without so much as a word spoken. It takes all of Jimin’s energy to keep his eyes on his hands, to not give in to the instinct pulling him to look back at Taehyung, to let him kiss him in ways that Jimin knows would change his life.

The sensible part of his brain knows that those changes would not be for the better.

Taehyung clears his throat, returning his arm to the back of the booth and adding a few centimetres of distance between them.

“You sing then?” Taehyung asks, as though nothing happened, and Jimin is more than happy to glide over what was almost a categorical mistake on his part.

“Not professionally or anything, just around the house, at noraebang, that kind of thing.”

“I bet you have a beautiful voice.”

Jimin risks a glance up to Taehyung, expecting to find disappointment or a hint of embarrassment on his face. Instead, Taehyung’s eyes are just as filled with wonder as he stares at Jimin as they have been since he stepped off the stage, his face still warm with a small smile.

“I think it’s okay.”

Most of the people have filed out of the club now, choosing to end their night with Taehyung’s set, or moving on to other nearby bars where the music is livelier and drinks are cheaper.

Still, the band continues playing for the few stragglers left behind. Jimin and Taehyung included from where they sit tucked away in their booth.

“Would you two like another drink before we close up?” Seokjin asks, hands full with glasses he’s cleared from the nearby tables.

“No thanks, hyung. I think we’re going to head out,” Taehyung tells him.

“Suit yourself.”

“We can stay for a little longer, if you want?” Jimin finds himself saying.

Taehyung shakes his hand, shuffling out of the booth, “They’ll wrangle us in to help them wipe down the tables if we don’t get out now.”

Namjoon and Seokjin are both behind the bar, the signs of closing clear as Namjoon counts up one of the tills, Seokjin at his side wiping the bar down despite it still looking gleaming.

“Guk couldn’t join you today?” Taehyung asks, leaning his elbows against the bar, his head making a home in the cradle of his hands.

“Nah,” Namjoon says, slotting the cash drawer back into the till. “He had a shoot. Sends his apologies. He should be able to make it next weekend

Jimin perches on one of the barstools, the leather cushion softer than he expected as he sinks down into it, balancing on the tips of his toes.

“You sing here every Saturday?”

Taehyung nods, “Some Fridays and special occasions too.”

“You’re welcome back anytime if you want to see him again,” Namjoon smirks, “Just let us know beforehand and we can reserve a booth for you.”

“Thanks,” Jimin makes a pointed effort not to look Taehyung’s way.

They bid the other two goodnight then, Taehyung taking Jimin’s hand again as he leads them back up the staircase to grab their coats.

There's zero hesitation when Jimin tightens his grip on Taehyung's hand this time.

Most of the drive back to Jimin’s apartment is in a comfortable silence, Taehyung humming along to the radio is the only noise breaking up the quiet.

Jimin feels the fog lifting from his brain slightly now he’s no longer in the club, not fully but enough for the worries to begin creeping back in.

“What kind of things did you know about me before we met?” Jimin asks, after he’s sat chewing on his lip, debating whether it’s worth asking when Jimin already knows it’s just going to be further confirmation that Taehyung is the most perfect soulmate one could ask for and this is just another sector where Jimin falls short in comparison.

Now he’s had a moment to mull it over, Jimin can’t stop replaying the conversation he’d had with Namjoon and Seokjin, the re-run circling around his brain like a shark waiting to attack, consistently reminding him that there’s something wrong with him.

“Hmm,” Taehyung purses his lips as he thinks on it for a moment, “A few of them I’ve already mentioned. I knew you’d like the beach and that you’d like the cocktail from tonight. I knew you didn’t like mangoes, just small things like that. What about you? What things did you know about me?”

Jimin’s not sure why he does it, but he decides to tell Taehyung the truth this time.

“I didn’t know anything.”

Taehyung whips his head to look at Jimin with wide, surprised eyes, before turning back to the road, “Nothing?”

“Not that I can think of,” Jimin mumbles, feeling insecure about his lack of soulmate bonding, “Maybe there were things, but I just can’t remember them right now…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Taehyung says quickly. “That just means there are more things for you to learn about me now,” He reaches over to Jimin’s thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he wraps his hand back on the wheel.

They drive the rest of the way in silence, Jimin watching the passing city lights as the car fills with the soft music drifting from the stereo.

He tries not to pay attention to how Taehyung's no longer humming along to the music. To how the silence quickly drifts to something stifling, that makes Jimin's shirt collar feel too tight around his neck.

When Taehyung pulls up outside Jimin’s complex, he switches the engine off, shifting a little in his chair to face Jimin, placing a hand on his knee again, this time to stop the anxious bouncing Jimin hadn't realised he'd been doing.

"Stop biting your lip, you're going to make it bleed," Taehyung says, frowning at the way Jimin's bottom lip sits between his teeth.

"Sorry," Jimin mumbles pressing his lips together to resist the urge to pick at the skin further.

They sit for a few more moments in silence before Taehyung sighs, placing his hand back in the safety of his own lap.

“I’m really not bothered,” he says, an openness to his face that makes Jimin almost believe him. “Even if you didn’t know strange facts about me before we met, or if you didn’t have any daydreams about me. That doesn’t matter. Because we have the real thing now. And we have all the time in the world for daydreams and getting to know each other.”

Jimin knows that’s not true; they don’t have all the time in the world. They have a matter of days, their time together a quickly emptying hourglass, each grain slipping through Taehyung’s fingers, so unassuming he doesn’t even know he should be trying to hold on to them.

“I guess,” Jimin keeps his voice quiet, barely above a whisper.

“I mean it. If this is what’s making you—” He sighs again, cutting his sentence short and running a hand through his hair. “Just please believe me when I tell you that those kinds of things don’t matter to me.”

“But Seokjin hyung and Namjoon hyung were telling me that you never stopped talking about those things.”

“Ah, that’s…” He pauses, choosing his next words carefully, “I love the idea of having a soulmate. I think it’s the one wonderful thing that the universe gave us, and maybe I sometimes got hung up on imagining what you’d be like, imagining the person that all those little clues would piece together to create. But just because I love the whole idea, that doesn’t mean I expect you to. If you’re not into that then that’s perfectly okay,” Taehyung tells him, his words so genuine that Jimin feels a flicker of hope light up in his chest, “I’m not one of those people who believes soulmates are exact mirrors of each other. You’re your own person, and you have your own opinions on things. If they don’t match up with mine then that’s okay. If you didn’t spend your evenings trying to reach out to the soulmate bond and figure me out, that’s okay too.”

He ends his monologue with a shrug, the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.

Jimin’s not sure what to say. He thinks he might need some time to digest Taehyung’s words and what they might mean to his view of their relationship.

He replies with a simple, “Okay,” before he opens his door and climbs out, bouquet gripped tightly in his hands.

“Sleep well.”

Jimin closes the door and watches Taehyung drive away, his words buzzing around Jimin’s mind at a thousand miles an hour.

————༺♡༻————

Jimin’s 3 hours into his shift when he recognises a familiar mop of dark curls heading for the counter he’s manning.

It’s been a few days since their date to Taehyung’s work. A few days since their almost kiss. They’ve been texting continuously since then, mainly pointless updates and funny photos that made them think of one another. The speed at which Jimin passed through the awkward stage of their relationship surprised himself. He’s barely known Taehyung for a week and yet he has hardly any reservations when typing out responses to Taehyung’s messages. It feels as though he’s texting with a friend, the same relaxing ease as when he messages Yoongi or Hoseok.

Which, Jimin has decided is a good sign. If his relationship with Taehyung is still comparable to those with his friends, that means they haven’t stepped into uncharted territory yet. So long as Jimin can keep Taehyung at this distance, can keep things between them as platonic as possible, maybe this could work. Maybe he wouldn’t have to stop seeing Taehyung completely. There might still be a chance for them.

After his conversation with Taehyung at the end of Jimin’s last date, while still holding his reservations, Jimin’s outlook has brightened slightly. Jimin has started to believe he might’ve gotten Taehyung wrong—it wouldn’t be completely off base to consider the possibility that Taehyung might be open to the idea of having a non-romantic relationship with his soulmate.

The idea seems silly to Jimin even as he thinks it, imagining someone willingly accepting a life without a red mark is almost insanity. But all Taehyung has tried to do for the past week is make Jimin comfortable, giving him gentle reassurances that he’s happy to take this at Jimin’s pace. Hell, up until their last date Taehyung hadn’t even tried to make a move on him, which, according to Yoongi is ludicrous.

When Jimin had recounted the date back to Yoongi, explaining with dismay the almost disaster, Yoongi had responded with an expression so shocked Jimin thought he’d accidentally said something wrong.

“He hasn’t even kissed you yet?” Yoongi asked once he’d picked his jaw up from the floor.

“No. I’ve been trying to break up with him, you think I’d let him kiss me?”

“To be honest I didn’t think you’d really have a choice.”

Jimin had scoffed at this, drawing his eyebrows into a frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you know… the soulmate bonds pretty strong, especially at first–” he scratched behind his ear, “I’m surprised you made it a day without jumping each other's bones, never mind a whole week without so much a kiss.”

After that conversation, Jimin had wondered how much Taehyung must be holding himself back, sensing that Jimin needs the space.

He had seen a glimpse of it, the raw hunger in his eyes as he’d leant in for the kiss, but mostly Taehyung is masking it well; well enough that Jimin didn’t even realise it’s practically unheard of for two soulmates to go so long without becoming intimate.

He had spent the past three days battling with himself over it; one side of him arguing that there is a possibility Taehyung might be open to a platonic soulmate, if only Jimin was brave enough to ask him. That it’s worth the risk of potentially getting a black mark if it means he might get to stay with Taehyung for a bit longer.

The other side of himself, the side that’s painfully rooted in reality, reminds him that he’s a fool for getting so close to Taehyung, that he’s reckless for almost letting go and giving in to the bond. It reminds him that there’s no chance this could work;

even if Taehyung somehow agreed, he’d get bored and leave once he realises Jimin was serious when he said he could never love Taehyung the right way.

He’d tossed and turned every night, flitting between which side he agrees with—both presenting strong cases.

Now, though, as Taehyung walks towards the counter, his face filled with something playful as he joins the queue, all those worries are forgotten. Instead, Jimin finds himself fighting to smother the smile daring to split his face in two as he serves a customer her drinks.

“Good afternoon,” Taehyung says, biting on his bottom lip to try and conceal his smile as he steps forward to place his order, “I’m in the area for work, and I heard the coffee here is exceptional.”

The speed at which Jimin’s heart rate picks up would be embarrassing if anyone else were able to hear it hammering against his chest, a feeling which Jimin has now come to associate with being in the same room as Taehyung. Just feeling the others' presence nearby seems to be enough to have Jimin’s stomach doing cartwheels.

It’s only been 3 days since they last saw each other, but it’s almost as though Jimin’s seeing him with new eyes, as if those 3 days of separation were long enough for him to forget the paramount beauty of the other man.

Taehyung is slightly dressed down today, sporting a pair of baggy blue denim jeans and trainers. The temperature has dropped considerably over the past week, autumn arriving in full throttle, so Jimin’s not surprised that Taehyung’s striped t-shirt is mostly hidden underneath an oversized black chesterfield coat.

His face is bare and hair unstyled, a floppy mess of curls that Jimin has to resist the urge to lean over the counter and run his hands through.

“Ah, yes,” Jimin giggles, trying to keep a straight face as he plays along, slipping into the roleplay as though it was second nature. “We’re known to have the best coffee in the area. Import our beans from only the best coffee farms.”

Taehyung leans his elbows on the counter, resting his chin on his palms, eyes wide and playful.

“That’s not what I heard, actually.”

“It isn’t?” Jimin quirks a brow, mirroring Taehyung’s position on the other side of the counter so they’re at eye level.

Taehyung shakes his head, “I heard it has nothing to do with the beans. Word on the street is that the workers here are akin to artists, masters in their craft, if you’d like.”

“Is that so?” Jimin can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him.

“Precisely.”

“I’ll send your regards to the maestro,” Jimin gestures towards Yoongi who’s leaning against the counter in front of the coffee machine, arms folded over his chest, frowning deeply as he watches their charade play out.

As Taehyung’s gaze follows Jimin he bursts into laughter at the silent judgement on Yoongi’s face.

“I’m guessing this is Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi asks Jimin, pushing off from the counter.

“What gave me away?”

“Probably the excitement I could feel radiating off Jimin the second you stepped inside,” Yoongi quips, much to Jimin’s dismay, “I’m Min Yoongi.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen at the name, “Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“I’m not surprised,” Yoongi smiles, something sly and mischievous, “Jimin has a raging crush on me. Talks about me all the time.”

“Oh my God, I do not!” Jimin exclaims, adding an eye roll so dramatic he almost sees his brain.

“Ah Jimin, how could you keep something like that from me?” Taehyung gasps, clutching his hands over his chest and frowning in pain as if experiencing the most intense heartbreak.

“Hyung look what your lies have done!” Jimin stares at Yoongi with wide eyes, gesturing to Taehyung

“You can’t deny it forever,” he sings as he walks into the backroom, door swinging shut behind him.

When Jimin turns back Taehyung’s staring at him with a wide smile on his face.

“I think the two of us are going to get along wonderfully.”

“Unfortunately, I think so too,” Jimin groans.

Jimin busies himself making Taehyung a drink, a new hazelnut hot chocolate that he’s been working on, topped with whipped cream and a Nutella chocolate wafer curl.

Taehyung watches with wide eyes, oh-ing and ah-ing anytime Jimin does even a minor step. The gasp he lets out when Jimin perfectly squirts the cream on the top in a perfect whip is nearly enough for him to lose concentration and laugh, almost destroying the perfect creation.

Once that’s done, he makes himself a simple americano, grabbing the two of them a slice of strawberry cake before he calls back through the door to Yoongi.

“I’m going to take my break now,” Jimin yells through the wood, already untying his apron and rounding the counter before Yoongi even responds.

He scoops up the tray of treats and leads Taehyung to his favourite table in the window, two oversized armchairs positioned around an oval table, far enough away from the counter that it will hopefully prevent Yoongi from eavesdropping.

“There’s a lantern festival in Seoul Forest tomorrow,” Taehyung says, placing Jimin’s drink and cake on the table in front of him, discarding the tray to the side, “if you want to go?”

“Oh,” Jimin raises his eyebrows, “I get a say in where we go this time?”

Taehyung smiles, “I think we might’ve reached the point in our relationship where you get a say.”

“What a privilege.”

“You didn’t mind, did you?” Taehyung frowns, “Me planning everything in the beginning?”

“Not at all.”

In truth, if Taehyung had left the dates to Jimin to plan, they most likely would never have happened.

It comes as a shock to him but he’s enjoying being courted much more than he expected to. Much more than he will admit to himself (or Yoongi). As much as he tries to deny it, there’s something magnificent about having someone dote on you the way Taehyung is him.

“I got the feeling that planning those kinds of things was more my forte than yours. Was I wrong?”

Over the last 3 days Jimin has tried his best to reach out to the soulmate bond and try to use it to read Taehyung the same way he is able to Jimin, hoping he might catch a glimpse of something that could settle his worries. Each time he’s met with a muted static, an abundance of nothing that only adds to the ever-growing pile of disappointment that creates Jimin.

“No. You’ve done a great job so far.”

He can’t help but smile at the way Taehyung lights up at the compliment, happily humming around a forkful of cake.

“I’m glad,” Taehyung beams, “I’ve been having fun planning things for us to do.”

“I’m off all day tomorrow, so we can go to the forest early if you like? Spend the day there?” Jimin suggests.

It’s not often Jimin gets the chance to immerse himself in nature, a day surrounded by greenery would probably do him some good.

Taehyung looks as though he’s about to combust with excitement at the suggestion, his smile growing so big his cheeks bunch up with it.

“I think that would be really nice.”

They spend the rest of Jimin’s break casually chatting, catching up as though it’s been 3 weeks and not 3 days since they last saw one another. Jimin still has so many questions about Taehyung’s role at the jazz bar. Taehyung informs him that Namjoon and Seokjin were both besotted with Jimin, their group chat has basically turned into a praise Jimin club after their meeting, much to Taehyung’s delight.

“They’re already asking when they can see you again,” Taehyung laughs, “I’m starting to think they might like you more than me already.”

“Don’t be silly. I only sat with them for 15 minutes and it was clear how much they adore you.”

Taehyung looks down at the table trying to be coy, “Well I won’t deny it…”

Jimin laughs at the act, “How could you? They sing your praises at any given chance.”

“Only when I’m out of earshot,” he defends. “Seriously though, if I don’t have a time and date of when they can next see you by the time I leave today, I think they might disown me.”

“Stop speaking nonsense,” Jimin’s eyes curve up as he laughs, “I can come and see you sing again this Saturday.”

“It’s a date,” Taehyung says, downing the dregs of his hot chocolate and standing, straightening the creases from his jeans as he does. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It’s only as Taehyung’s giving him a small wave as he walks past the window that Jimin realises he’s accidentally agreed to two separate dates. Both of his own volition. One of which was almost entirely planned by himself.

So much for trying to distance himself.

“Why are you grinning like that?” Yoongi asks with a knowing smile when Jimin places the empty plates and cups on the counter.

“I’m not grinning,” he says, whilst failing to wipe the smile off his face.

“Sure,” Yoongi laughs silently, his shoulders shaking with it. “How’s it going, by the way?”

“Terribly,” Jimin throws himself on the counter, arms sprawled next to the cash register, face squished against the wood.

“It seemed like it was going well from here.”

“It is,” Jimin’s voice is muffled.

“You’re sending me mixed signals.”

Jimin sighs, lifting his head enough to look Yoongi in the eye.

“He’s wonderful,” he whines, “Perfect, actually. Everything I could ever have wanted him to be.”

"…and that’s a bad thing?” Yoongi asks hesitantly.

“Yes, hyung! It’s a very bad thing!” Jimin flops his head back down on the top and lets out a groan. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Judging by how smitten he is with you, I would guess he can’t stop thinking about you either.” Jimin lets out another groan into the wood, “and I’m guessing that was the wrong answer?”

Hot air fills the space between Jimin’s head and the counter as he huffs out a long sigh, letting the humidity of it linger for a moment before he stands up straight again, fixing his hair as he speaks, “I wasn’t supposed to like him this much. It was supposed to be easy. If you hadn’t persuaded me to go to that stupid brunch I never would have met him in the first place and then I wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

Yoongi frowns, “How is it my fault that your soulmate is perfect?”

“Because!” Jimin shouts, only registering the volume of his voice when the few customers in the shop turn to stare at him. He continues, voice lowered to a hush, “because I wasn’t supposed to find out how perfect he was. It makes it harder to leave.”

The playfulness drops from Yoongi’s face, “You’re still planning to break up with him?”

“I’m not sure,” Jimin mutters, the confidence in his voice wavering slightly. “If we’re ever to have any kind of relationship it will only ever be platonic. I’m not sure if that will be enough for him.”

“Have you spoken to him about it yet?”

Jimin shakes his head, “He’s confusing. When I was speaking to his friends it seemed as though the things he wants, what he expects from me, are all things I can’t give him. When he speaks of how he felt before we met, of how he daydreamed about me it’s pretty clear of the future he imagined for us.”

Jimin chews on his lip, tearing the skin between his teeth as he ponders. Taehyung’s convoluted in a way Jimin can’t keep up with.

“But then sometimes he says these things, reacts in certain ways that’s so open and understanding that for a split second I think he might understand me,” Jimin tries to explain. “He’s so gentle with me, hyung. No one’s ever treated me like that before, I don’t really know how to respond to it.”

“Seems as though he’s exactly what you need.”

Jimin hums, scared of the accurateness of his words.

“I’m going to make my decision tomorrow whilst on our next date,” he decides.

Yoongi looks glum as he offers Jimin a small, sympathetic smile, “I really hope things work out for you.”

The bona fide honesty in his words sends a bundle of unruly emotions through Jimin’s chest.

“Either way I’m going to end up hurting him. It’s just whether he’s going to accept me afterwards that’s the worry," Jimin grabs his apron off the side, pulling the strings too tight as he ties it at the back, "Tomorrow will determine if I’m going to tell him at all, or if I'll end things as I was always planning on doing.”

“You’d break up with him on a date?" Yoongi's voice is raised slightly in surprise, as though he's shocked at the brashness of his friends.

Despite himself Jimin laughs a little, "No, I'm not that mean. If I decide to end things, it won’t be tomorrow. Where we're going is too public anyway, so I'll have to do it another day,” Jimin says. “I’m going to see him again on Saturday, but at his work so I definitely can’t do it then. But sometime after… maybe next week if we go somewhere suitable?"

Yoongi pats him on the shoulder, and mumbles out a quiet, “maybe next week,” before he’s turning to serve a customer.

That’s settled then. Jimin will break Taehyung’s heart next week.

Maybe.

————༺♡༻————

For most people the best time of year to come to Seoul Forest Park is in the spring, when the cherry blossoms begin to bloom, to walk the tree lined paths in all their glory, hand-in-hand with your soulmate if you’re lucky.

Some prefer it in the summer, taking the day to bask in the sunshine and picnic with friends, forgetting about the overbearing heat as they relax with cool beverages and ice creams.

For Jimin, his favourite time to come here has always been early autumn, just before the leaves fall, when they’re still painting the landscape with their rainbow of orange and browns. The air is cool enough to be crisp, but not cold enough that the tip of his nose starts to redden with the chill.

Today is one of those days. He’s bundled up in a jacket, hat pulled down to cover his ears. He came prepared in case the temperature suddenly drops, not wanting an unpredicted cold evening to end their date early. Taehyung had the same idea, donning a puffer jacket and hat, his dark waves curling around the bottom where they stick out.

The forest is busy for a random Wednesday in autumn, the bridge he and Taehyung are strolling across is bustling with other visitors ambling their way across or stopping to take photos of the scenic view of the trees panning for miles in front of them.

They took the subway today, parking too much of a bitch for them to bother. It was nice, commuting together, sitting side by side as the train rushed them towards their destination. They didn’t speak much, but Jimin was surprised by how comfortable it was, not once did he find himself wracking is brain for something to break the silence with, and Taehyung must’ve felt the same, sitting quietly at Jimin’s side, offering him a small smile when they locked eyes

(Which was frequent and sent the butterflies in Jimin’s stomach into a frenzy each time).

The festival doesn’t start for a good few hours, the pair deciding to take a leisurely stroll around in the meantime. It’s been a while since Jimin has taken the time to rejuvenate in the many nature spots dotted around Seoul. It’s one of the things that he came to love about the city; the harmonious balance between nature and metropolitan.

They grabbed a few snacks from the food stalls at the entrance, nibbling away at them as they wander, sharing them between the two of them , and Jimin feels at ease as he takes a bite from the bungeoppang that Taehyung offers.

He’s more relaxed than he has been during any of their previous dates, even though the weight of the decision he must make by the end of the date is a continuous presence, Jimin can’t help but let himself enjoy the day. If he were paying attention, he might worry at the speed he’s fallen into this easiness, at his seemingly inability to put up a fight against the soulmate bond.

But, alas, Taehyung is far too dazzling under the afternoon sun for Jimin to pay attention to menial things like that.

“I think we should write a song together,” Taehyung says as they’re strolling past a stream, the backs of their hands brushing against one another after each step, “Something about us being soulmates.”

“So suddenly?” Jimin laughs, “You don’t even know if I’m any good at writing. And you still haven’t heard me sing. I could be terrible.”

Taehyung waves Jimin’s concerns off with the flick of his hand, “Your speaking voice is lovely, so I can only imagine how wonderful your singing one must be, and I’m not that good at writing either,” he turns to Jimin with a smile, “Maybe we’ll cancel the others' bad skills out.”

Jimin frowns, Taehyung’s performance at the Blue still fresh in his mind, “Did you write the songs you performed on Saturday?”

“Yeah. Most of them.”

“Then you’re obviously talking nonsense. They were incredible.”

Taehyung stops walking, pausing their stroll at the bank of the stream just before it opens up into a large lake.

“You liked them?” His voice is coloured with the playful smile he wears as he glances at Jimin.

“You already know I did. I told you how much I enjoyed it when you got off stage.”

Jimin feels a slight blush of his cheeks as he says it, at mentioning that conversation and what it almost led to.

“Which song was your favourite?” Taehyung asks the question as though he already knows the answer, as though it’s obvious which one Jimin would choose. Which it is. How could he not choose the song that was written and performed for him?

But he can’t let Taehyung know this, he has to keep up the charade that, despite Taehyung looking directly at Jimin as he’d sung the words, and despite the lyrics fitting so perfectly with their current situation—Jimin has no idea that the song was for him.

“I liked all of them,” Jimin responds, maybe a little too quickly, “It’s impossible to choose.”

“You really didn’t have a favourite?” The slight squint to Taehyung’s eyes tells him that he doesn’t quite believe Jimin.

Jimin knows what he’s getting at, he knows that he wants to hear Jimin’s opinions on that song—Jimin’s song. But he can’t bring himself to open that can of worms, so he shrugs, a smile playing on his lips as he says, “I guess I'll just have to hear them all a few more times so I can settle on one.”

“That can definitely be arranged. You’re still coming on Saturday?”

If their date today ends with Jimin deciding it’s time to end things, it wouldn’t be smart to visit Taehyung and watch him sing. He’s already witnessed the bewitching aura of Taehyung when he’s performing. There’s only so much Jimin can handle before he cracks—and seeing Taehyung on that stage would be more than enough to send him back ten paces.

But Taehyung’s watching Jimin with so much hope in his eyes that Jimin can’t find it in himself to smother it. Besides, if he chooses not to end things, the disappointment would be all for nothing. There’s still a chance things might work out for them.

So Jimin nods, “I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

When they continue walking, it’s with a pep in Taehyung’s step, their hands linked and swinging between them as they walk towards the lake.

Before Jimin had left this morning, he had a ball of dread weighing his stomach down, reminding him that when he returns home, when he next stands in his hallway, or sleeps in his bed, everything will be different. When he returns home it will either be with a newfound hope for his future, or with a broken heart in need of nursing.

But now, as he watches Taehyung watching a flock of ducks swimming in circles across the water, Jimin can’t remember what he was so scared of. He can’t really remember why he was so positive Taehyung was going to reject him.

“Oh, a butterfly garden!” Taehyung’s eyes are wide as he spots the sign on the building they’re walking past, “Should we go in?”

“Sure,” Jimin laughs.

He thinks at this point he would say yes to anything Taehyung asked.

They head into the building, Taehyung removing his hat and shaking his hair out as Jimin pays their entry, his eyes wide the whole time as he reads the signage outside the garden detailing the types of butterflies and plants housed inside.

(Jimin tries—and fails—to ignore the ever growing fondness inside his chest at the adorableness of the other man)

The garden is breathtaking, a small treasure hidden in the depths of the park, locked under a glass roof where the butterflies can fly freely. Inside is filled with greenery, the conservatory packed to the brim with plants and trees, leafy greens as far as Jimin’s eye can see. The only thing breaking up the garden is a path weaving its way around the large tree that stands tall in the centre. It reaches up to brush against the glass enclosing it, standing proud as the sun-rays filter in through the windows, basking it in beams of light. The leaves growing from its branches are bigger than Jimin’s head, their canopies making the perfect home for the butterflies to settle on. Their specks of red and orange striking against the green of the leaves.

Butterflies flutter around their heads as they follow the path, not scared off by their presence. Jimin watches as they dance around one another amongst the foliage, gliding between the plants together as though they’re performing a well practised dance.

The path leads them behind the tree to where a small water feature sits, it trickles softly as the water falls from the top of the rocks and down to the basin at the bottom.

A blue butterfly sits in a crevice of one of the rocks, so close to Jimin that he’s scared if he breathes too hard he might scare it away.

Slowly, he reaches into his pocket to grab his phone and snap a photo of the butterfly, his face breaking out into a smile when he captures it.

“Taehyung look,” he turns to where Taehyung’s stopped just behind him, phone presented proudly, ready to show off the perfect photo he just took. But he stops short, a gasp lodged in his throat, “Don’t move,” he whispers.

On the side of Taehyung’s head, nestled into his curls like a hair clip, sits a bright yellow butterfly. Its wings stark against the black of Taehyung’s hair, the very ends of its wings rimmed with a brown that almost blends into the strands.

“Hmm?” Taehyung mumbles, freezing in place.

Without another word, Jimin sets his phone back on camera mode and snaps a photo of Taehyung, his eyes wide as he stares down the lens in mild confusion.

The moment the image is captured, the butterfly twitches its wings once, twice, and on the third beat, it lifts out of Taehyung’s hair and disappears into the bush behind him, almost as though it was only there to pose for the photograph.

“Look,” Jimin laughs as he turns the phone around to show Taehyung, his laughter doubling when Taehyung’s eyes widen impossibly further as he zooms in on the butterfly.

“I couldn’t even feel it,” he gasps in bewilderment, his eyes lighting up with glee.

“Your face looks so funny,” Jimin giggles, swiping the image away from the butterfly to focus on the confused expression Taehyung’s wearing, now forever memorialised in Jimin’s phone.

“Ah,” Taehyung elbows Jimin’s side softly, “I was confused.”

“It’s cute,” Jimin says, not thinking much about it when he sets the photo as his lockscreen so he can enjoy the endearing look on Taehyung’s face every time he picks his phone up.

They walk around for a bit longer, taking in all the different colours and species of the butterflies, snapping more photos whenever one lands close enough.

By the time they come to leave the butterfly garden, the sun is casting dark shadows through the trees as it begins to set.

They slowly make their way to the centre of the park where the main space has been transformed for the festival; the large field is lined with stalls selling small trinkets or food, Jimin’s mouth watering at each one as they stroll past.

At the head of the park, a stage has been set up, cushions laid out in front of it for patrons to perch on as they watch the pair of dancers currently occupying the stage, twirling around one another in time to the dramatic music flooding from the speakers.

Jimin stops for a moment, enraptured in the dance as the music picks up and the dancers begin leaping away from one another, only to turn back on their toes, spinning back to the centre of the stage to close the distance in a breathtaking lift.

“Do you want to stop and watch them?” Taehyung asks, nodding towards the spare cushions a few paces in front of them.

Jimin shakes his head, “It’s fine. We have a lot to look around before the lanterns.”

Truthfully, Jimin would be happy to spend the rest of the evening watching them dance, even if it does fill him with a melancholy of a life he could have lived. But he swallows it down, and gives Taehyung a tight smile in its place.

“Is that the kind of dancing you used to do?” Taehyung asks once they’ve turned their backs on the dancers and are heading towards the next row of stalls.

“Yeah, pretty similar. I never did pair work though, only ever solos or group work.”

Jimin picks up a wooden carving of a duckling from the stall they’ve stopped in front of, turning it over in his hand to inspect it so he doesn’t have to look at Taehyung as he talks, afraid he will pick up on the longing Jimin wears whenever this subject is breached.

“Why never pairs?”

“I never really worked well with a partner,” Jimin says, his words weighing heavy with an alternate meaning.

Taehyung clicks his tongue, looping his arm with Jimin’s as he pulls them to the next stall, “We’ll see about that.”

(And if Jimin has to fight to stifle the fond smile that threatens to split his face at Taehyung’s words, that’s his business).

The park fills up as the sky is blanketed in darkness, other couples and families joining the festivities before the lantern lighting at 7pm. After a few minutes of squeezing between the growing crowds to see the stalls, the pair decide to find a spot on the grass to settle for the evening.

“I’ve had a lovely time today,” Taehyung says as he relaxes back against his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him.

“Me too,” Jimin tells him, and for the first time, it’s not a lie.

There’s a commotion to the right of them, two girls around their age squabbling with one another, their heads bent together as they whisper furiously, glancing up to where Jimin and Taehyung sit.

When one of them catches Jimin’s eye, she gasps, darting her eyes away, muttering something too quiet for Jimin to make out, but the other girl reacts instantly, standing up straighter and peering over to Jimin indiscreetly. He’s just about to mention something to Taehyung when the girls start aggressively whispering again. The first girl who made eye contact with Jimin seems to lose whatever fight they’re having, giving in with a sigh and taking a few hesitant steps towards where Jimin sits utterly confused. The second shorter girl is behind her, pushing at her shoulder to guide her towards where Jimin and Taehyung sit, egging her on.

Taehyung is only alerted to their presence when the two girls come to a stop in front of them, blocking his view from where he’d been silently taking in the scenery of the bustling crowd.

“Um hi…” the girl starts, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt down to cover her fingers, “Sorry to bother you. But you’re uh– you’re Kim Taehyung, right?”

The confused frown Jimin’s wearing relaxes into a surprised one at their question. It only takes a moment of searching his brain before he remembers his soulmate is sort of famous, and then the girl's hesitation makes sense. A wave of fondness bubbles over at their coyness.

Taehyung sits up straight, pushing off his elbows and crossing his legs, confused face morphing into a wide grin, “I am, yes.”

Both the girls mirror his smile back to him, the shorter one whispering an “I told you,” into the other girl's shoulder.

“We thought so. That would have been awfully embarrassing if you weren’t,” she lets out a relieved laugh, her shoulders relaxing with each shake of it. “I’m Yuna, and this is my soulmate Minji,” she gestures to the other girl still half hiding behind her, the two of them bowing slightly as Yuna introduces them. “We’re both big fans of yours. I hope you don’t mind us coming over to say ‘hi’.”

“Not at all!” Taehyung is beaming, his face glowing almost as much as it had on stage. Yuna’s eyes flick over to Jimin’s for a moment, and Taehyung must catch the movement scrambling to make sure no one’s left out of the conversation, “This is Jimin,” Jimin awkwardly bows to the girls in his sitting position, “he’s my soulmate.”

The speed at which Jimin whips his head to stare at Taehyung would be comical if the words Taehyung spoke hadn’t sent his heart plummeting into his stomach.

He knows his eyes are wide and boring into the side of Taehyung’s head, but he can’t help the way his blood runs cold as he hears those words spoken out loud for the first time, can’t help the way his skin litters with goosebumps at being introduced as someone’s soulmate.

Jimin’s barely listening when Yuna speaks, his stomach still on the ground as the conversation continues around him.

“We were at Blue on Saturday night and saw you two together,” she says. “We did wonder after we noticed your mark whilst you performed.” Yuna’s voice sounds filled with a smile she must be wearing, but Jimin can’t focus on it long enough to fully acknowledge her words.

“Congratulations,” Minji says, finally feeling brave enough to step around her girlfriend's shoulder for a moment, slipping her hand into Yuna’s as she speaks, “We’re really happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Taehyung places a hand over his chest in his sincerity, “You’re very kind.”

“No, no, we should be thanking you!” Yuna waves a hand in the air between them, eyes wide, “We met each other because of you! When we saw you sat here we knew we had to come over and say 'thank you'. The whole reason we even have our marks now is because of your music!”

“Oh?” Taehyung’s spine straightens, his interest piqued at that.

“You inspired me to start writing music,” Minji says, “after I saw you perform in Busan. I’d never had such a visceral reaction to music before that, and I knew I wanted to create something that might make someone feel that way too.”

“And I’m a singer,” Yuna explains, “She wrote a song for me. The second I walked into the studio that day and our eyes locked, we both got our marks.”

They turn to look at one another, their eyes sparkling, and Jimin feels sick.

“I never would have been there if I hadn’t seen you perform that day,” Minji turns back to Taehyung and bows at him once more, “So sincerely, thank you.”

“Oh no, that’s–” Taehyung scrambles to stand, “That’s too much. You would have met eventually without me, you don’t need to thank me.”

“Maybe,” Yuna nods. “But nothing brings us together like music, and Minji might not have discovered her love for music for a long time if she hadn't stumbled into that club. Who knows how many more years we could have been waiting for each other if not for you.”

Jimin finds his feet then, realising he’s the only one still sitting and slowly managing to get his feet underneath him to stand, the world shifting as he straightens up, spinning around him in swirls of the floodlights painting the night sky.

“Well,” Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, “Who knew my music had so much power? Definitely not me,” he lets out an overwhelmed laugh, “I’m honestly a little speechless. Its so wonderful that you can make music together, and I feel privileged to be a part of your love story.”

It takes a moment for Jimin to realise the world's spinning because he’s struggling to breathe, each breath coming into his chest laboured and short. The conversation around him echoes, the voices growing tinny and distant as he feels himself withdraw into himself. He’s not sure what it is about this particular conversation that has Jimin feeling as though his skins trying to turn inside out, perhaps it’s simply hearing Taehyung introduce him as his soulmate for the first time, or maybe it’s hearing how Taehyung has managed to unknowingly puppeteer two strangers into soulmates, while having to live with a pitiful excuse of one in his own pairing.

Perhaps a little of both.

“--here celebrating, actually,” he hears Yuna say as his mind refocuses slightly, “both of our marks turned red yesterday.”

Jimin’s vision is sluggish as he moves his eyes to stare at their left hands hanging at their sides, both decorated with a fine line of red. Once he’s noticed them he can’t draw his eyes away, glaring from one mark to the other as the conversation of congratulations swarms between them.

“I’m so happy for the two of you.” Taehyung moves to hug them, Jimin follows the movement via Minji’s red mark on her hand.

“We’re happy for you two as well,” Yuna chides. “This must be so exciting for you both!”

Jimin wishes his hearing would zone out again as Taehyung responds, his voice filled with a happiness Jimin knows he’s not a good enough actor to fake.

“Thank you. We’re definitely basking in it,” Jimin can hear the smile on Taehyung’s face, but he can’t bring himself to look, instead he forces his mouth into a small smile, his stomach rolling with nausea as he glances up to the girls, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”

There’s a pregnant pause, as though they’re waiting for Jimin to pitch in. Even if he had any words in his head, Jimin could’t trust his throat to be able to push them through the dryness of his mouth, or the nausea in his stomach not to tumble out instead of the lies he’d spew.

He manages out a small hum and a nod, tightening his lips in the hopes it accentuates his smile, realising a moment too late that he’s probably turned it into more of a grimace.

Minji saves the day then, glancing down at her watch and nudging Yuna with her elbow, “We best buy our lanterns before the show starts.”

“Oh right. It was lovely to meet the two of you,” Yuna says, bowing.

Jimin manages a bow in return, but he knows its stilted.

“Come and say ‘hi’ if you come to Blue again,” Taehyung hugs them both tightly once more before they disappear back into the horde of people, Jimin watches their marks until they get eaten by the crowd. “I don’t meet fans very often,” Taehyung turns to Jimin, letting out a breathy laugh, “They were so nice. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed though.”

Jimin wishes he had the capacity to laugh right now, because overwhelmed is definitely an understatement.

Taehyung looks off into the crowd, his eyes stuck at the parting where Yuna and Minji disappeared into. He wraps an arm around Jimin’s waist, the movement so natural Jimin isn’t sure Taehyung even realises he’s done it. Jimin shrinks into himself, fighting between his instinct to lean into Taehyung’s touch and the ever growing panic begging him to get away.

“That will be us soon, you know?”

The nausea rise in his throat, threatening to overflow at Taehyung’s declaration, at the sheer ultimatum in his words that soon they too will be off celebrating their marks turning red. He doesn’t mean to, but a small sob slips out as Jimin struggles to take another breath, his throat overcome with emotion.

For many years Jimin has wondered how it would feel to have his heartbroken by his soulmate, if it would feel similar to the pain he felt when he realised for the first time just how broken he was, or the heart ache he’d felt when Yoongi moved out and left him alone again. In truth, Jimin has spent more time imagining how this heartbreak would feel than he has anything else. But all of those hours couldn't have prepared him for it to feel quite like this.

He didn’t expect to feel so foolish. He thought he was better than that, smarter than that. Only now, once it’s too late, does he realise that he let himself fall down the rabbit hole just as everyone warned him he would.

Because he started to believe it, to let himself daydream about a future he knows could never be his. A future that could never belong to someone like him. And now, as Taehyung lays out the future he sees for them as clear as day, a future of red marks and quaint dates to the park, Jimin knows no soulmate mark is strong enough to make them anything other than what they are; two strangers without a future together.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung’s words are laced with concern as he takes in Jimin, finally turning to look at him.

Jimin can only imagine how he must look, pale and clammy, his chest heaving with half-breaths, unable to meet Taehyung’s eye as he searches Jimin’s face.

“Yeah. Just—tired.”

“Okay,” Taehyung rubs a hand up Jimin’s back to try and comfort him, but for the first time Jimin feels his skin crawl at the contact. “Do you want to wait here whilst I get our lanterns?”

Jimin feels himself nod, the world spinning as he lowers himself back down to sit on the grass.

Taehyung hesitates above him for a moment, before telling Jimin he’ll be as quick as he can and disappearing into the crowd.

Once Jimin’s alone, he focuses on getting control of himself, taking a few deep breaths and reminding himself that he’s okay. He tries to distract himself with the people milling around him, but all he can see is red marks everywhere he looks—folded around the hands of their soulmates, looped over one another's shoulders—his vision swims as he glances from person to person, each one of them seemingly mocking him through his water filled eyes.

His breaths grow shorter until Jimin’s certain if he stays here any longer he won’t be able to breathe at all, so he stands, letting his feet guide him out of the clearing and into the trees, where it’s dark and quiet, where there are no red marks to taunt him or soulmates to disappoint.

He runs, his tears streaming and breaths heaving until the music and chatter from the festival is replaced with the soft lapping of the lake. It’s here that he falls to his knees at the grassy bank, the cold seeping through his jeans as he settles, bringing his knees up to his chest and letting the tears flow as he watches the water glistening in the night.

It’s only as he sits by the water, face sticky with drying tears, that he realises somehow, somewhere along the way, he’d gotten so caught up in Taehyung that he’d forgotten this was only temporary.

He can only imagine how Taehyung will feel when he gets back to where he left Jimin to see it deserted. To find himself stood-up on a date they were both seemingly enjoying so much. The disappointment that he’ll feel, the heartache once he realises Jimin has run off.

If only Jimin could stop being so selfish.

Eventually, the world stops spinning as he sits and tries to sort through the mess in his mind. Up until half an hour ago, Jimin was having a wonderful day; the best he can remember for a long time. But, like everything else, he had to ruin that too.

His pity party is broken up by the water filling with golden lights, the ripples lapping with fire as they reflect the lanterns illuminating the night sky. It’s beautiful, the wind carrying hundreds of paper candles into the night, flooding the darkness with their light as they drift up, up, up, until all Jimin can see is orange stars dancing in the distance.

It would have been beautiful to be a part of it. To have let his lantern fly with Taehyung’s at its side, the two of them travelling into the darkness together. But that's just another experience Jimin’s ripped from Taehyung.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there by himself before the crunching of leaves signals someone approaching. He doesn’t need to turn to know that it’s Taehyung, his instincts telling him the soft tread belongs to his soulmate's feet before Taehyung even sits down.

They don’t speak for a long while, Taehyung seemingly filled with a patience that Jimin doesn’t deserve.

There’s a rustling of a plastic bag, and then Taehyung’s handing Jimin a cold can.

“Thought you might need a drink,” is all he says before the hiss and crack of his own can opening.

Jimin follows suit, opening his drink and taking a lengthy sip of the beer.

They stay like that—growing cold sitting on the grass at the lake bed, the lanterns getting further from reach in the distance, unspeaking as they drink—until Jimin finds his voice again, his lips slightly loosened now he’s wet them with a little alcohol.

“Are we friends?” Jimin asks, eventually.

The silence lingers for a while longer, only broken up by the breeze catching in the leaves of the trees above them.

“We’re soulmates,” is what Taehyung responds with, as though it’s the obvious answer.

Jimin sighs, disappointed. As obvious as the answer was, it was the wrong one. Jimin doesn’t want to just be Taehyung’s soulmate. He doesn’t want their whole relationship to be solely because the universe linked them together. He needs Taehyung to choose him, it’s the only way he can see this working out.

“What about beyond that?” He tries, “Beyond the bond? Are we friends?”

“Of course we’re friends. How could we be soulmates if we weren’t…”

Frustration grows within Jimin the more Taehyung talks, and he must sense it, his words slowing to a halt. Taehyung places his can on the ground and shuffles slightly so he’s facing Jimin.

“I feel like this is a test and I’m failing it badly.”

“It’s not a test.”

“But I didn’t say what you wanted me to say, did I?”

Jimin shakes his head, feels the lump in his throat grow bigger at the confession.

“Do you think—” Taehyung starts but abruptly cuts himself off. “Is friendship more important to you than the soulmate bond?”

It takes a moment of mulling the question over before Jimin has an answer, and even then, he’s not sure how confident he is with it. Because he’s been taught all his life that nothing is more important than the soulmate bond, to the point that once he realised his bond was already scarred, he contemplated if his life would ever amount to anything worthwhile.

Once he’d settled into the idea that a romantic partner wasn’t something he would ever be able to experience, Jimin had reserved all of that effort to his friendships, figuring he won’t get better companionship than them. And now he’s sitting here with his soulmate, considering the idea of a platonic relationship with him and Jimin realises they’re both one and the same to him. Neither is more important than the other because he wants them to both exist together.

He wants, more than anything, for his soulmate to also be his best friend.

“I think they’re the same thing,” is what he tells Taehyung in earnest, hoping the other can translate his words.

Taehyung stares at him for a moment, studying Jimin. Then he nods, one curt shake of his head and says, “Okay,” before picking his can up and taking a sip, resuming his position observing the lake.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I don’t think I agree. I would never want Seokjin hyung or Namjoon hyung to be my soulmates,” he wrinkles his nose at the idea, “that’s not what a soulmate means to me. But, if that is what it means to you, then okay.”

“I just–” Jimin starts, running a frustrated hand through his hair, messing up the strands as he tries to find the right words, “I just want this to mean something more than a red string.”

“How could anything mean more than that?”

The nausea rolls in his stomach again, at Taehyung confirming what Jimin already knew deep down; nothing is more important to Taehyung than having a soulmate.

He really shouldn’t be surprised, the anomaly here is him, not taehyung, and yet he’s filled with an overwhelming sadness that the universe really did fail the both of them.

So, he does what any self-respecting adult would do and downs his drink, grabbing a second one and downing half of that one, too.

Now he’s found the bravery to breach the subject, it’s a hard task stopping the question he’s been keeping inside from spilling over, tumbling into the soil between them, ruining what little might still be salvageable.

But he knows he must. There's no way out other than through.

So, with a fizz in his stomach, and a slightly alcohol induced warmth settling over him, he takes a deep breath and continues directing the conversation further towards their demise.

“Do you think you’d still want me if we lived in a universe where we weren’t soulmates?” Jimin tries, hoping the question might lead Taehyung to think of Jimin in a different light, one where they aren’t connected by powers much stronger than them.

“I don’t think one exists.”

Jimin fails to hold in a frustrated huff as Taehyung refuses to see Jimin’s vision, “What if we lived in one where no one got their mark? Where soulmates are just some fantastical concept people write stories about.”

It takes a moment for Taehyung to find his answer, “I think we’d always know. Even if soulmates don’t exist, we’d know what we mean to one another. We’d know it was special.”

Jimin doesn’t really know what to do with that. Because he can’t inherently disagree, if he said he couldn’t feel something bigger than himself when he looks at Taehyung then he would be a liar, he knows they have something special, as much as he tries to avoid it he can feel it even now, sitting in the dark 2 feet away from Taehyung, there’s something invisible pulling him towards him, connecting them in a way that shouldn’t make sense but does.

“Is that what you’re so worried about? That the only reason I’m with you is because it was your name inside that file?”

Jimin nods, an ugly fear bubbles inside of him at the small confession.

“Is that the only reason you’re here with me?” Taehyung asks him, voice soft, as though he’s worried he might scare Jimin off.

A bubble of laughter escapes Jimin’s lips, because that’s such a silly idea. All Jimin has tried to do for years is avoid the name inside that file, and once he knew it, he doubled down on those efforts, tried his best to stay away from Taehyung, he told himself time and time again not to get too close, planned his break up speech hundreds of times in his mind. And yet he’s failed every step of the way.

If it was as simple as turning up because ‘Kim Taehyung’ was a name on a file, Taehyung would be sitting at home with a black mark on his arm right now. And all of Jimin’s problems would be solved.

But it’s not that easy. It’s never been that easy, and Jimin’s been lying to himself since their first meeting by telling himself it was.

“No,” Jimin speaks the word clearly, with no doubts behind it.

“Then why do you presume that’s the only reason I’m here?”

“Because the soulmate mark is important to you. Because you just said that nothing is more important than that.”

“So you think I blindly follow it? Like some kind of brain dead monkey, trained to have no thoughts for myself?” There’s a slight tinge of hurt to his words.

“No, but–”

“Look, Jimin,” Taehyung cuts him off, “I know that you have some kind of complicated relationship with the soulmate system, that much I’ve figured out,” he sighs,

“But please have some faith in me, just a little bit, if you can. I promise that you mean more to me than a name in a file. If you paid attention you would realise I’ve been trying to show you that for the past week.”

Jimin lets the silence sit between them as he soaks in Taehyung’s words.

“If you want us to be friends, I need you to start by trusting me,” Taehyung adds a moment later.

It’s a tall order, and one that Jimin knows Taehyung won’t be able to fulfil, not in the way Jimin wants him to. Because it’s obvious that Taehyung wants friendship on top of everything else, like an add-on to the usual soulmate package deal. The deal which Jimin can’t offer.

But the trust part, foolishly, Jimin thinks he could give him that. So he closes his eyes, and whispers a little bit of his truth into the night.

“I’m really scared.”

There’s a shuffling beside him, and then Taehyung’s coming into view, sitting directly beside Jimin, but still leaving enough space so they’re not touching.

“I know you are.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” Jimin’s throat squeezes with a fresh batch of tears, “H-how to not ruin it.”

In the corner of Jimin’s eye Taehyung shakes his head, “You won’t—”

“I already have. You just haven’t noticed yet.”

Once the words are whispered, Jimin knows there’s no taking them back. Taehyung will ask, and Jimin will have no choice but to answer, and once he does, the heartbreak will naturally follow.

“What do you mean by that?” There’s confusion in Taehyung’s voice as he asks.

Jimin lets out a dry laugh, “You got a broken one.”

Taehyung stays silent for a moment, as though trying to figure out if he missed a step in the conversation, “A broken what?”

“A broken soulmate,” A tear slips free from Jimin’s eye, trailing down his cheek to follow the path made by so many dry ones, “I’m broken.”

“You look pretty whole to me,” Taehyung still sounds confused, but there’s a layer of comfort to his words this time, as though despite not knowing what Jimin’s talking about, he wants to comfort him nonetheless.

“No, inside,” Jimin presses his palm to his chest, “In here.”

“Someone broke your heart?”

He shakes his head, “Not sure there’s one to break.”

“Jimin I… I’m sorry, I really don’t understand.”

He knows what he wants to say, he wants to tell Taehyung that this isn’t going to work, to stand up and walk away right now, before things flurry even further out of control. He’ll apologise, tell him it’s not him, it’s Jimin who’s at fault, will grant him that much in the hopes to ease the pain slightly, like putting ointment on a severed limb. And then he’ll go. Turn on his heel and never have to see Taehyung again.

He never planned to end things today, never wanted to break Taehyung’s heart on a date, but the evening has spun so far out of Jimin’s control he’s not sure he could steady it anymore.

While he’s contemplating the best way to word his speech of heartbreak, Taehyung starts talking again, taking his silence as reluctance.

“Whatever it is, you don’t need to tell me now, but it’s important to me that you know you can talk to me. You don’t need to keep it inside. I can tell it’s eating away at you–I noticed it the first time we met and wrote it off to nerves, but I know that was wrong, because it’s only been getting worse.”

“Taehyung—”

“Whenever you’re ready to talk about it I’ll be here, with an open ear,” he continues, “but until then, can I ask you one thing?”

Jimin nods.

“Did I do something wrong?” Taehyung asks, “Or am I not doing something that I should be?”

Jimin feels like a careless idiot because of course in Jimin’s silence Taehyung would point the finger towards himself.

“No, it’s not you, I promise.”

“You’d tell me if it was? If I was the one causing you this anguish?”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. you’ve done everything perfectly. You’re more than I deserve, honestly.”

Taehyung scoffs, “I struggle to believe that.”

“I just needed some time to figure things out. I'm sorry.”

“Please don’t apologise,” Taehyung says, gently running a hand through Jimin’s hair, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. It takes all of Jimin’s willpower not to lean his head into Taehyung’s palm and rest it there for a while.

“I’ve waited my whole life for you; I can wait a little longer.”

And then Jimin’s crying again. A sudden sob wrecking through him, catching him completely by surprise.

Taehyung doesn’t ask any further questions, or probe into what could possibly be upsetting him so much during the period of their lives that is supposed to be filled with nothing but joy. Instead, he wordlessly pulls Jimin into a hug, cradling his head onto his shoulder, rocking them slightly as he whispers words of comfort into the dark.

“We can work it out,” he murmurs into Jimin’s hair, “whatever it is, I’ll make it work. I promise.”

If Taehyung knew what it was he was promising he would take it back in an instant. There’s no point in making a promise to an impossible feat.

Still, Jimin hugs Taehyung closer, wrapping his arms around him so tightly he’s not sure Taehyung can breathe. This might be the only time that Jimin gets to do this, cry on the shoulder of his soulmate. He fears that next time they have this conversation he won’t chicken out telling Taehyung the whole truth, the words still dancing on the tip of his tongue even now. If only he was brave enough to speak them aloud.

Before he got his mark he had never branded himself as a coward, but if the last two weeks have shown him anything it’s that he never grew a solid backbone. He should have ended this the moment they met, paid the price then and there. He never should have taken Taehyung’s number or accepted a date with him. Going to his work was foolish and integrating himself into Taehyung’s friend group was just plain cruel.

And now, staining Taehyung’s jacket with his tears, Jimin realises he’s never stooped so low.

Crying on the shoulder of the man who’s impending heartbreak is the reason for your tears, letting him soothe his sobs without knowing the true reason for them is more merciless than Jimin ever thought he could be.

So he sobers up quickly. Sitting up straight and scooting as far away from Taehyung as he can without making it too obvious. He wipes at the tears on his face with his fingertips, ignoring the way the cold air chills the wetness now he’s not shoving his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck.

“I would like to go home,” Jimin clears his throat. “Please.”

“Of course,” Taehyung stands instantly, “whatever you want.”

They collect their empty cans and throw them in the nearest bin (Jimin contemplates climbing inside with them for a moment, making a home in the trash where he belongs).

When Taehyung stretches out a hand for Jimin to take, Jimin shoves both his hands into his jacket pockets, mumbling something about them being cold.

The journey back to Jimin’s home is stoic, the silence not comfortable like on their way there. A few times Taehyung opens his mouth as if to speak, but promptly closes it again, stewing in the soured mood.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t speak, Jimin isn’t sure he has the energy to give Taehyung the answers he deserves, or the strength to listen to anymore of his comforting words. And he certainly doesn’t have the patience to dance around the obvious elephant in the room. Silence is better; easy. No more damage can be done tonight if Jimin simply refuses to talk, surely.

Once the train pulls into Jimin’s station, he mumbles a quiet goodnight to Taehyung, exiting the doors the second they slide open, practically running out onto the platform before Taehyung gets a chance to respond.

His walk home is cold, the temperature seemingly dropping dramatically since leaving the festival. Even as Jimin tightly wraps his coat around him, crossing his arms over his chest to preserve the warmth, a chill still rattles through his body.

When he finally makes it into the comfort of his apartment, the chill follows him, littering his skin with goosebumps, his hands remaining icy and stiff even after he washes up with the water scalding enough it tinges his skin red.

————༺♡༻————

The following morning Jimin’s woken to a missed call from Taehyung and a few text messages asking if he’s okay. He ignores them, sorts them into the back of his mind as he gets ready for work – tells himself he’ll reply to them later.

When later comes and he still can’t bring himself to text out a simple response, the missed call rising from 1 to 2 to 3 unanswered calls from Taehyung, Jimin tells himself he’ll call him back in the morning. For real this time.

Not that he gets the chance to when he’s woken at 3am to his phone ringing, his mind too full of sleep to read the caller ID before he answers and is greeted with Taehyung’s deep voice flooding into his bedroom through the phone speaker.

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

“s’three in the morning, of course y’did,” Jimin slurs, eyes falling shut as sleep tries to take a hold of him again.

“Sorry,” Jimin thinks he can hear the hint of a smile in Taehyung’s voice and he hates that he knows the exact fond ridden one Taehyung is wearing, “Can you come outside?”

“Hm?” Jimin frowns, “Why would I go outside, s’cold.”

“Wrap up warm and come out. Please?”

Slowly, Jimin’s brain starts waking up, his mind filling in the gaps of their conversation. He shoots up straight in bed, his eyes free from sleep now he’s catching on to what Taehyung’s saying.

“Wait, are you here?!”

“There’s something that I want to show you.”

At that, Jimin throws back the covers and runs to peer out the window, pushing the curtain aside so he can see the road in front of his complex and the familiar British racing green car sitting outside with its engine running, lights flooding the deserted street.

“Are you crazy? It’s the middle of the night,” Jimin protests, but he’s already hurrying to throw on a hoodie and sweats in a barely awake daze.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“Fine,” Jimin sighs, “Give me 5 minutes.”

He hangs up the phone and rushes into the bathroom, speeding his way through his morning routine despite it technically still being night.

Once his face is clean and breath is minty fresh, he slips on the first pair of shoes he finds and heads out the door, giving himself a quick once over in the mirror just before he leaves.

The night is frigid compared to the cosyness of Jimin’s bed, his hoodie severely lacking where it replaced his quilt. Even with his arms wrapped tightly around himself, the wind beats down his neck, chasing goosebumps across his skin.

Taehyung waits leaning against the bonnet of his car, legs crossed in front of him, styrofoam cup warming his hands, looking completely unfazed by the wind.

Despite it being the early hours of the morning, Taehyung still looks as picture perfect as ever, even if this is the first time Jimin’s seen him so dressed down in a hoodie and what looks like checked pyjama bottoms.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin whispers once he’s close enough for Taehyung to hear him. He keeps his voice hushed, not wanting to wake any of his neighbours, but trying to keep a safe distance from Taehyung.

“I want to show you something,” Taehyung repeats, except this time Jimin hears a waiver of insecurity that he’s not heard in Taehyung’s voice before.

It doesn’t suit him.

Still, Jimin chews on his lip, staring at the brickwork on the building behind

Taehyung’s shoulder to avoid having to look at him.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

During most of his day ignoring Taehyung, Jimin has been figuring out the best way to breach the subject of their breakup. He wanted to invite Taehyung over, do it somewhere private, but the idea of having the conversation in Jimin’s own living room didn't feel right. He didn’t want to tarnish his only safe space. But having the conversation in public could only ever end in disaster and embarrassment. All Jimin had concluded was that the next time he saw Taehyung it would be to break up with him.

He would be prepared, have his speech perfectly articulated so there was no space for misunderstandings, have his emotions in check so there would be no tears when Taehyung agrees that they’re better off without one another.

The next time he faced Taehyung it would be on his terms, not on another one of

Taehyung’s surprise dates. Not like this—in the middle of the night, when Jimin’s mind is barely awake.

“I brought you a hot chocolate,” Taehyung takes a tentative step towards Jimin, hands stretched in front of him as he passes the drink over the gap between them.

Jimin sighs, but he accepts the drink anyway, taking a sip and letting the sweet cocoa warm his belly.

“I should probably go back inside…” he says, but he doesn’t take a step back towards his apartment.

“Jimin…” Taehyung’s still stood within touching distance, his hands now empty and folded into the pocket of his hoodie. For a moment he’s quiet, observing Jimin in the dim lighting from the street lamps above them. There’s a look on his face, something grief-stricken and filled with despair. His voice is barely a whisper when he asks, “Please?”

As Taehyung’s plea settles in the cold around them, Taehyung looks younger than Jimin’s ever seen him. His face is stripped of the normal happy-go-lucky mask he wears, leaving him with sad eyes, and a downturned mouth. With his hands stuffed in his pocket, and shoulders drawn together, he looks like a boy, and every instinct inside of Jimin is urging him to take pity on the man, to make his sorrow disappear.

“Why is it so hard to say no to you?”

Jimin closes his eyes and drops his head towards the ground in defeat. The rational part of his brain seems awfully quiet tonight, and Jimin’s too sleepy to argue with the irrational part alone.

When he looks back up he’s greeted with a beaming smile, the gloomy look on Taehyung’s face replaced with a boxy grin that sends the butterflies in Jimin’s stomach into a frenzy.

“I think it might be something to do with this,” Taehyung replies, pulling his sleeve down to show off his white mark.

“I think you might be right,” Jimin agrees, knowing that the extent he has to fight to say no to Taehyung must be the work of something supernatural.

“Come on,” Taehyung heads over to the car, opening the passenger door for Jimin to slide inside.

When Taehyung slips behind the wheel, he greets Jimin with a smile that’s almost warm enough to fight off the cold.

“Where are we going?” Jimin asks, fastening his seatbelt.

“It’s a surprise.”

Jimin gives Taehyung a pointed stare, “Another one?”

Taehyung nods, shifts the car into gear and accelerates down the road.

“I thought you might need something to cheer you up.”

At the mention of Jimin’s outburst yesterday he flushes, shame washing over him at how he’d obviously ignored Taehyung all day.

“I feel fine.”

It’s a lie, and Taehyung knows it too–can probably sense it with how attuned into their bond he is, but he doesn’t pry, doesn’t force Jimin to delve back into the harrowing conversations of yesterday.

“Well if you don’t need cheering up then this can just be a fun surprise,” he says, “I think you’ll like it either way.”

“Can I have a clue at least?”

They’ve been here before, had this conversation when Taehyung took Jimin to the beach on their first date. Jimin knows Taehyung well enough now to know he’s not going to get any information out of him. That doesn’t mean he won’t at least try.

“We’re going to do something you mentioned wanting before.”

“Oh?” Jimin raises his eyebrows in surprise. He wasn’t expecting anything in response to his prying, much less a clue that’s related to him.

“That’s all I’m telling you.”

Jimin slumps down in the seat, mouth forming a pout, “That’s not a lot to go on.”

“You haven’t mentioned that many things to me.”

“More than I can remember,” he moans.

When Jimin searches his brain, the only memory that comes to mind is the list of things he’d lied to Taehyung about on their first date when he’d asked Jimin what he’d daydreamed about. And as far as his memory recalls, none of them require being woken up at 3am to do.

“Let it be a surprise, then. We’ll be there soon anyway, it’s not that far today.”

Jimin stifles a yawn behind his hand, and mumbles out a barely coherent “Good.”

Taehyung laughs, “Maybe I should’ve brought you a coffee.”

“No the hot chocolate’s nice,” Jimin takes a lengthy sip to accentuate his point, “It’s perfect for the weather.”

“I thought so too.”

They drive for a few minutes longer, the empty streets passing by in a blur of lights and colours that Jimin doesn’t recognise until the distance between them grows, the roads getting darker as they drive further outside of the city.

He’s just about to ask Taehyung for another clue when the car turns into a gated complex surrounded by trees.

“We’re here?” Jimin presses his face against the glass to get a look at where they are, his breath fogging up the window.

The complex is made up of 4 buildings towering into the night sky, positioned to create a diamond shape in the courtyard between them, the low lighting from the old fashioned street lamps cast the trees and benches littering it into indiscernible shadows.

The road takes them behind the buildings and down into an underground car park. Jimin squints at the fluorescent lights assaulting his eyes as Taehyung parks the car in a space assigned to 43B, the muted glow of the street lamps forgotten in this concrete basement.

“We’re here,” the engine switches off, the silence deafening.

“Where is ‘here’?”

Taehyung unclips his seatbelt, “My apartment.”

“Uh…” Jimin frowns, “Please tell me you didn’t get me out of bed at 3am for a booty call…?”

“Not even close,” Taehyung’s laugh fills the car. “You’re really bad at this guessing game.”

“You didn’t give me much to go on!”

“I did say it was something you mentioned wanting, and while I’m not opposed to it, I don’t remember you saying you wanted that.”

Jimin flushes, choosing to ignore that comment as he chases after Taehyung striding towards the lifts at the end of the car park.

Taehyung hits the button to the top floor once they're inside, the doors closing and shutting them in the silence as it jolts to movement. It’s painfully quiet, Jimin’s not sure what to say, his emotions from yesterday still lingering awkwardly. He should apologise, he knows that. Taehyung deserves at least a ‘sorry’ for Jimin obviously ignoring him all day. But he can’t help thinking an apology would be 5 steps backwards when he’s trying to put distance between them.

If only he could ignore the nausea that ripples in his stomach every time he thinks about distancing himself, the guilt that runs rampant every time he remembers what he’s doing to Taehyung.

Taehyung woke Jimin in the middle of the night, travelled across the city in the cold to surprise him because he wanted to cheer him up. He trusts Jimin enough to invite him into his house, open his door to Jimin despite them technically only knowing each other for a few days. Introducing Jimin to—

He gasps, eyes wide, “Am I going to meet Yeontan?”

At the mention of his dog Taehyung’s face lights up, he bites down on his bottom lip to smother the wide smile beaming on his face and nods.

“Oh my gosh,” Jimin breathes out, barely having time to let the excitement simmer before the doors open to a brick walled corridor.

They ignore the numbered doors down the corridor and head straight to the metal staircase at the end. There’s only one door when they reach the top, a dark solid wood sliding door sitting lonely in its own small hallway, the number 48 painted onto the brick next to it. A bicycle leans up against the wall, an umbrella stand occupied by a single red golf umbrella stands next to it, but the corridor is otherwise vacant.

“He’s a bit wary of strangers in the beginning, so don’t take it personally if he doesn’t warm up to you straight away,” Taehyung explains, punching in his key code and sliding the door open.

Jimin can’t help the gasp he lets out as they step inside, his eyes darting around the room as he slips his shoes off and steps onto the cold wood of the floor.

Taehyung’s place is stunning, more of a loft than an apartment; the entire space is open plan, set out like one large room, completed with a wall of floor to ceiling windows, the distant lights of Seoul glittering through the glass.

Before Jimin can get a better look at the place, a tiny ball of dark fur comes hurtling down the stairs opposite them, yapping as he bounces on his back legs. His front paws stretch up on Taehyung’s legs, still barely reaching his knees even on his hind legs.

The barking seizes the second Taehyung scoops the dog up into his arms, replaced instead by insistent licking of any bare skin Yeontan can find.

“Tannie, this is Jimin,” Taehyung explains to the dog, “He’s very important to me so please be kind to him.”

Yeontan responds with a wiggle, and then darts off into the living room as soon as his four paws are placed back on solid ground, hardly bothering to give Jimin a glance.

“I’m sure you’ll grow on him,” Taehyung gives Jimin a tight lipped smile.

Jimin hums, knowing the likelihood of that happening is painfully low. Instead of dwelling on it, he directs his attention to the room before him.

The metal staircase that Yeontan had run down, a metre or two in front of the front door leads up to the bedroom—a mezzanine looking down on the living room over a black metal railing.

Sitting underneath the cover of the bedroom is the kitchen, worktops all black and sleek, modern in a way that moulds into the vintage setup of the living room, which sports a large brown button-tufted chesterfield leather sofa. The too large TV is propped up on a wooden shelving unit that matches the side-table pushed between the sofa and window.

Jimin snorts out a laugh at the figurine sat atop it, a light blue monster looking creature with too long arms and black beady eyes, a sprinkling of Taehyung’s character in his perfectly curated home.

The Persian rug covering the wooden floor in the living room is littered with tiny dog toys, the toy box next to the TV unit sits empty as Yeontan spreads his toys further around the room, running from one to the other before he settles on a tiny bone to gift to Jimin, dropping it on the floor in front of him with a clatter.

He stands in front of Jimin, his tiny body wiggling with excitement as he glances from the bone and up to Jimin.

“Is this for me?” Jimin asks, bending down to pick it up.

Yeontan answers with a bark, his paws tapping on the wood as he dances with impatience. With a chuckle, Jimin slides the bone across the ground, watching as Yeontan chases after it.

“Does this mean he likes me?” Jimin glances up to Taehyung when Yeontan returns the bone, placing it directly in Jimin’s hand.

Taehyung nods as they both watch Yeontan chase after the bone again, his tiny figure disappearing underneath the wooden dining table to the side of the kitchen, reappearing a moment later with tousled fur but the bone firmly clamped around his mouth.

It’s nothing really, the two of them laughing as they watch Yeontan chase after the bone, just an innocent moment that doesn’t mean much in the long run. And yet it squeezes something longing in Jimin’s chest, a nostalgia for the moment before it’s even finished.

When Jimin straightens to stand, it’s with a soft smile on his face, the same one mirrored on Taehyung’s. If Jimin had his way, this is how they’d always be, the two of them happily enjoying mundane moments like this at one another’s side.

There’s music filtering down from Taehyung’s bedroom, something old playing over the crackle of a loved vinyl, and for a moment Jimin feels as though this moment isn’t real at all, as though he’s slipped into a vivid dream where everything works out for them.

When Taehyung takes his hand and leads him up the stairs towards the music, the dream like fog follows them, only dissipating when Yeontan hurtles onto Taehyung’s bed, messing up the covers as he curls up into a ball in the centre.

The record player faces the bed where it sits on a white marble topped chest of drawers pushed against the railing, its horn large and golden as it fills the loft with old jazz music. Jimin busies himself watching the record spin on the needle, trying to ignore how his heart rates picked up now he’s stood within reaching distance of Taehyung’s bed.

“Are you positive this isn’t a booty call?” Jimin half jokes.

Taehyung laughs, “Fairly certain.”

He guides them past his bed and towards the window where a small walkway leads them to two doors at the end, one half open displaying a modern bathroom. The second closed one is the one Taehyung stops outside, his hand hesitating on the handle as he turns to Jimin.

“Living on the outskirts of the city is annoying most of the time, it means it takes me ages to get anywhere,” Taehyung says, opening the door and gesturing for Jimin to step through, “but it does mean I get a beautiful view of the night sky when it’s clear.”

Jimin steps out onto the rooftop terrace, the wind even more abrasive now they’re so high up, the concrete seeps cold through his socks, his shoes left forgotten downstairs. His eyes naturally flit to the sky once he’s a few steps out, his mouth dropping open with a gasp as he looks up.

The music muffles again as Taehyung closes the door and comes to stand next to Jimin.

“There’s a meteor shower tonight, I thought you might like to watch it with me?”

Jimin nods wordlessly, unable to tear his eyes away from the glistening stars, the sky so clear he can make out constellations with his naked eye. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the stars so vivid before, it’s almost as though if he were a little taller he could reach out and touch them. Maybe he could pocket one and keep it as a souvenir of a perfect dream he almost had.

Taehyung lets Jimin watch the sky for a few moments longer in silence before he gently guides Jimin forward again, forcing him to drag his eyes away from the sky and to the display in front of them.

On the floor, directly in the centre of the roof terrace a bundle of blankets and pillows have been laid out atop two futons pushed together to create a makeshift bed.

The terrace is bordered with glass fences on 3 sides, the brick wall of Taehyung’s loft on the 4th, each one has been decorated with twinkling fairy lights, bright enough that Jimin doesn’t trip over the futon as he makes his way over, but still dim enough that they don’t distract from the stars.

“This is so…” his sentence trails off as Jimin realises he doesn’t have the words to describe the beauty before him. He doesn’t think they’ve been created yet.

Taehyung settles on the futon next to him, “On our first date you mentioned you wanted to see the stars, so I thought I’d bring you to them.”

A ball quickly forms in Jimin’s throat, a cumulation of the overwhelming emotions that threaten to spill over as he looks at Taehyung and finds him already looking back at him, the stars seemingly frozen in his dark eyes.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Jimin finds himself asking, his voice thick.

Taehyung looks a little sad as he takes Jimin’s hand again and says, “I’m not doing anything spectacular, Jimin. I’m just trying to spend time with you.”

“You drove all the way into the city in the middle of the night because I made one off-handed comment about liking the stars. You picked me up a drink on the way in case I was cold, and arranged all of this so we would be comfy. Despite me treating you so terribly for the past few days, you’re still trying to cheer me up,” Jimin says, his throat restricting more as he talks. “How is that not spectacular?” he picks up the corner of one of the blankets and twists it around his thumb.

“I was worried about you,” Taehyung mumbles nonchalantly.

Jimin sighs, defeated. He could live a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve to call Taehyung his soulmate.

Taehyung lets go of Jimin’s hand for a moment as he lays down, rearranging the largest blanket so he can slip underneath it, holding it open for Jimin to climb under.

Jimin hesitates for a moment before he lays down, pulling the blanket tight under his chin as he lies on his back, eyes once again glued to the sky.

Taehyung arranges the rest of the blankets on top of them for extra warmth, plumping up the pillows at the head of the ‘bed’ before he settles too, linking his fingers with Jimin’s the moment he sinks down.

“No one has ever done those things for me before,” Jimin says after a moment.

Taehyung strokes the back of Jimin’s hand with his thumb, his voice gentle as he says, “I don’t think you’ve ever let anyone.”

“That’s not true—” Jimin cuts himself off, his mind wandering to his friends, to how he’s always managed to keep them at an arm's distance despite how much he cares for them, “My friendships are very important to me,” he says instead.

He has always treated his friendship with Yoongi with the same care one would exert to a soulmate. And once Hoseok had come into the picture, he welcomed him with the same energy, too. And yeah, maybe he kept them far enough away that his broken pieces couldn’t scratch at them, maybe he’d share his troubles on occasion, but always at a distance where they couldn’t make out the details, where things looked more polished and round.

But he cares for them with his whole heart nonetheless.

“I know,” Taehyung smiles, “but I'm not talking about Yoongi hyung.”

Jimin frowns, “What do you mean then?”

“I mean the people you dated before. I’m sure they would have jumped at the chance to treat you with the same care as I am.”

Jimin’s stomach droops so low he worries it might have landed in the foyer 10 stories down. Of course Taehyung was talking about romantic partners.

Jimin’s mouth feels full of cotton balls as he begins to talk, “Well I didn’t— I haven’t really… There’s not been any—”

Taehyung’s proximity becomes too much as Jimin stammers through his words. He snatches his hand out of Taehyung’s grasp to link it with his own, safely locked on his chest. He can feel Taehyung’s eyes on his as Jimin refuses to look away from where he’s not focusing on the stars anymore, his vision filled with panic.

“You haven’t dated anyone before?” Taehyung asks.

Jimin nods slightly, cringing at how embarrassing it is to admit that in all of his 27 years on earth Jimin has never dated anyone before he got his mark.

“I-i mean there’s been people, I just haven’t— nothing long term… I didn’t see the point.” Jimin clarifies, not wanting Taehyung to think Jimin’s a complete loser.

Taehyung hums for a second, before turning his attention back to the sky, “That surprises me.”

“It does?”

“Sure,” Taehyung snorts, “I mean look at you, I’m sure you were having to fight bachelors off on the daily.”

Jimin can’t help the laugh that he lets out at Taehyung’s odd phrasing, “It wasn’t quite like that. I’ve never really been interested in anyone before.”

Once the words are out Jimin regrets them instantly, knowing he’s given too much away. But Taehyung must not fully understand their meaning, because he doesn’t so much as flinch at them before carrying on the conversation.

“I didn’t see much point in dating either,” Taehyung says.

This catches Jimin’s attention, his gaze shoots down to Taehyung as surprise lilts his voice, “You didn’t?”

The pesky tiny spark of hope reignites in Jimin’s stomach, reminding him that maybe there is a chance that Taehyung’s like him after all.

“I decided to wait for my soulmate instead. I didn’t want to give away any of my love on someone else when I could save it all up for you instead.”

And just like that the flame is smothered.

“Right,” Jimin mutters as he slowly turns his gaze back to the stars.

A silence settles over them, the muffled music trying its best to filter through the cracks in the door but only the slight cadence of the saxophones break through, the vocals nothing more than a mumble.

“Do you know any of the constellations?” Taehyung asks after a while.

“No. I always wanted to, but it’s one of those things I’ve never gotten around to learning.”

“I don’t know much but I can teach you a few,” Taehyung offers, shuffling closer so their heads are pressed together as he points aimlessly up to the sky. “Do you see those stars over there, the ones making a zigzag shape?”

Jimin squints his eyes as he tries to follow Taehyung’s finger, but among the mass of stars, if he follows the line of any of them he could pattern them into some form of a zigzag. He tells Taehyung as much.

“They’re all making a zigzag.”

It makes Taehyung huff out a laugh, “It’s really obvious when you see it. Give me your hand.”

Reluctantly, Jimin braves the cold as he removes his arm from under the protection of the blankets, holding it out to Taehyung who curls his fingers into a fist, stretching out his pointer finger to use it to locate the constellation. He stretches both their arms up, wrapping his hand around Jimin’s wrist as he directs his hand to make a zigzag in the sky.

“Do you see it now?” He asks as he repeats the pattern, moving Jimin’s finger up and down in the same motion until it becomes clear as day in the stars, each point of the shape glittering with a bright star.

“I see it!” Jimin almost yells, his face breaking into a wide smile as the constellation comes to life behind his fingers, as though Taehyung was using his finger to draw it in the sky,

“It looks sort of like a sideways ‘W’?” He asks, tilting his head to the side to see it clearer.

“Exactly,” Taehyung lets their arms fall back on the bed but he doesn’t release Jimin’s wrist, “That’s Cassiopeia. It’s one of the easiest to find because the brightest stars in it make that distinct ‘W’ shape.”

Now Jimin’s found it, he can’t take his eyes off it, smiling wide with triumph.

“Show me another,” he demands.

“Hmm…” Taehyung ponders for a moment, his eyes travelling the expanse of the sky as he tries to find another he recognises. “Okay, you see just below Cassiopeia, there’s 4 stars making a square shape?”

Jimin lets his eyes travel down, closer towards the horizon.

“No the other way,” Taehyung laughs, reaching for his hand again to point out the 4 stars he’s talking about, stopping Jimin’s hand on each corner first, once each star is located, he makes a fluid box shape, “Right there.”

Jimin nods, his cheeks beginning to ache with his wide smile, “Got it.”

“That’s pegasus. It’s the 7th largest constellation in the sky.”

“It doesn’t look that big,” Jimin muses as his hand traces it.

“The square is only part of it. It’s all of this too,” Taehyung moves Jimin’s finger to trace the lines of stars trailing from 3 of the 4 points of the square. “There are a couple of other galaxies within it. I’m not sure where, though. And this star,” Taehyung guides Jimin’s finger to the top corner of the square, “is technically not a part of pegasus, it’s from a different constellation, but Pegasus borrows it to make The Great Square.”

“Woah,” Jimin breathes, his hand going lax in Taehyung’s grip as he takes in the wonder of their universe, “How did you learn all of this?”

“My dad taught me when I was young,” Taehyung smiles as he talks about his family, “We used to go on walks late at night, just the two of us, and he’d point them all out to me.”

Taehyung drops their hands back on the bed, lifting the blanket so they can both snuggle fully under the covers again. This time, when their arms press against one another, Jimin is the one to link their hands together.

“That sounds nice.”

“It was,” he turns his smile towards Jimin, “and now I get to pass it on to you.”

When Jimin turns to look at Taehyung then, their noses almost brushing, he feels the dreamy fog start to fall again, as though he’s floating off towards where the stars twinkle

As he floats, he takes with him the worries that have been plaguing him, he watches them as they drift into the night, until they coast so far into the distance Jimin can’t make them out anymore.

When Jimin floats back down, he brings with him a safety he hasn’t felt for years. The comfort of it presses against his chest and swaddles him tight like a baby in a comfort blanket. He fills his chest with a bravery he thinks he’s borrowed from Taehyung, passed between the slither of distance between them as they watch one another.

It’s temporary, as all dreams are, and Jimin knows this. If he moves too fast, or speaks too loud, he might wake himself and be jolted back to the harsh reality outside of this moment. So, he keeps his voice barely above a whisper, not daring to speak louder into the night.

“I’m sorry I ruined our date,” he says, finally feeling brave enough to breach the subject, “I got a little overwhelmed but I shouldn’t have run away like that.”

When Taehyung responds, Jimin’s face warms with the hot air from his whisper, “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

“I owe you an explanation at least. Leaving you like that wasn’t very kind.”

The last thing Jimin wants right now is to have to explain himself to Taehyung, to explain the reasoning behind why he suddenly became so overwhelmed. There wouldn’t be any way around it, no way for him to avoid the real reason he ran.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

A sadness sweeps over Jimin then, because Taehyung sounds as though he means the words, but Jimin knows them to be untrue. They’re soulmates; they owe each other far more than what Jimin’s offered so far.

“You planned a lovely day for us and I destroyed it, but you don’t think I owe you an explanation?” Taehyung just shakes his head wordlessly, “We were having such a nice time until I ruined it.”

“The time was still nice, you running off didn’t change that.”

“Yes but it meant we couldn’t continue having a nice time,” he sighs. “Why are you not mad at me? We didn’t even get to do the lanterns. That was the whole reason you wanted to go.”

Taehyung lets out a small chuckle, “I wanted to go so I could spend time with you. The lanterns just happened to be there too.”

Taehyung’s staring at him, the picture of a patience and gentleness that Jimin doesn’t deserve, his words so sweet that Jimin feels a little sick on them.

“It's all been for you.”

At Taehyung’s nonchalant confession Jimin emotions fizz inside him, growing into something uncontrollable, like a champagne bottle ready to blow its cork, almost violent in its intensity.

He can’t act on it, can’t let it overflow even as the glass feels ready to smash, shattering from all directions as it bursts. He tries to keep it inside, keep the bubbles in check, scared if he opens his mouth they might float out into the night, littering them with his untrained emotions in small droplets when they pop.

As they lay there, the moment stretching on, Jimin waits for the intensity to die down, to flatten like a half filled champagne flute left out overnight, forgotten after the party-goers swapped their drinks for their beds, eventually to be poured down the sink. To dissipate into nothing like a steaming pan being taken off the heat.

Except, they don’t. The bubbles continue swirling and growing, building inside him, demanding his attention. For all his fighting and denying, he can't escape it.

“Maybe we can go next year instead,” Taehyung offers a slight, sleepy smile at the idea.

Jimin knows he needs to tell Taehyung, and he needs to do it now, before the facade can play on any longer. Under the safety of the stars, the two of them tucked under the blanket of night, there’s a small part of him that wants to tell Taehyung.

Their dream is so perfectly designed, so undisturbed by reality that Jimin fools himself into thinking maybe things will be okay if he opens up, lays his heart bare for Taehyung to see the faults in it.

“Taehyung,” Jimin whispers, “I have something I need to tell you.”

The second the words are out Taehyung turns away, his eyes glued to the stars as he breathes. Jimin’s heart stutters as the silence stretches on, unsure as to whether he should just blurt it out now that he’s finally feeling brave enough.

But then Taehyung lets out a deep breath, and speaks into the night.

“Can you tell me tomorrow?” His throat bobs as he swallows and when he turns to meet Jimin’s eyes his own are lined with tears, “Whatever it is, can we pretend it doesn’t exist for tonight?”

“Tae…”

“Please—” his voice breaks, “Just for tonight.”

It’s ironic, Jimin thinks, how all he’s been doing for the past week is biding his time, hoping that if he evades the truth for long enough he could steal a few more moments with Taehyung.

And now he’s finally ready to speak his truth, and Taehyung is the one bargaining with the clock.

Jimin knows he shouldn’t agree to it, he knows the more merciful choice would be to put Taehyung out of his misery. The unshed tears in his eyes are more than enough for Jimin to realise Taehyung’s not as clueless as Jimin had thought; Taehyung knows things aren’t as perfect as they should be.

But Taehyung isn’t asking for much. What difference will one more night make in the face of years of Jimin’s pretending? Finally, Taehyung is asking for something Jimin can give him; a dream.

“Just tonight,” he breathes, the words so quiet that if they weren’t laying a hair breadth away Taehyung probably wouldn’t have heard him. “We can pretend just for tonight.”

Something flickers in Taehyung's eyes, something reflecting sorrow, but he nods all the same, “Just tonight.”

And then Taehyung’s kissing him, surging forward to close the gap between them, and Jimin lets him, doesn’t fight it, not when it feels so right.

It’s soft and gentle in all the ways Jimin’s learnt Taehyung to be, cautious but filled with so much longing. It’s nothing more than a peck, a delicate press of their lips, as though Taehyung’s testing the waters before diving in head first.

Their hands stay clasped between them as Taehyung pulls back, barely an inch between them as he scans his eyes over Jimin’s face, searching for a hesitation that Jimin should probably be feeling but isn’t.

“Is this okay?”

Jimin nods, ignoring the lump that rises in his throat, the emotions that threaten to overwhelm him as he holds Taehyung close for the first and last time.

His hand shakes as he lifts it out of the blanket, rolling slightly onto his side to tuck a wayward strand of dark hair behind Taehyung’s ear, his fingers lightly graze over Taehyung’s cold cheekbone as he does.

He doesn’t return his hand to the warmth of the blanket, instead, he traces the line of Taehyung’s jaw, feels the shiver that his gentle touch sends through Taehyung.

“It’s okay,” Jimin breathes.

When Taehyung kisses him this time, it isn’t soft or gentle, it’s filled with the hunger that he’s been holding back whilst he waited for Jimin to catch up. Jimin kisses him back with just as much fervour , letting himself relax into it as Taehyung deepens the kiss.

With each slide of their tongues Jimin’s stomach swoops, his whole body alight, as though the stars had fallen to Earth and made a home under his skin.

With a hand on Jimin’s hip, Taehyung rolls him onto his back, caging him in, their lips still locked. Jimin lets out a small sigh at the way they fit together so perfectly as he twists his hand into Taehyung's hair — not a single doubt in his mind that they're made for one another.l

Their mouths move together so deliciously, without hesitation, that he resides himself to believe it’s the fault of a higher power, something incomprehensible to Jimin’s mortal mind. Because there’s no way two earthly beings can just happen to bloom together so divinely.

Jimin’s kissed many people before, has never really found the appeal in it. He gets it now, as Taehyung slips his hand under his hoodie, goosebumps chasing after his fingers as they skim up Jimin’s side exploring, as Jimin’s lips cool as Taehyung moves to pepper open mouthed kisses down his neck, his eyes roll back and a small moan escapes at the intensity of it — of feeling Taehyung everywhere; the pressure of their bodies flush against one another, their hands still clasped together, now resting at the side of Jimin’s head, his lips still tingling from the loss of contact. Every hair on Jimin’s body stands to attention, as though beckoning Taehyung over to touch, to kiss, to hold.

When Taehyung kisses back up Jimin’s throat, he pauses for a moment, long enough that Jimin’s eyes flutter open. Taehyung’s hovering over him, his hair falling forward to curtain his face, just watching Jimin.

His eyes are filled with a deep intensity that flows from his skin in waves, a tide so strong it would pull Jimin under if he wasn’t already voluntarily wading through the water.

The dim glow from the fairy lights is barely enough to make out the wetness that lines his eyelashes, but still, Jimin sees it. When he brings his hand from the back of Taehyung’s head to cup his check, Taehyung leans into it, not breathing a word as Jimin thumbs the tears away, following the movement with a light press of his lips against Taehyung’s cheekbone. He ignores the saltiness that stains his tongue and mirrors the movement on the other side.

“Are you okay?”

Taehyung tucks his head into Jimin’s neck as though embarrassed, but he nods and places a small peck against Jimin’s skin.

“Just feeling a lot,” his voice comes out mumbled. “A little overwhelmed.”

Jimin hums in agreement, running his fingers through Taehyung’s hair.

“Do you want to stop?”

Taehyung springs up from Jimin’s shoulder, resuming his position over him, “Hell no.”

It rips a giggle from Jimin’s chest, the magnitude of the moment halted while his laughter fills the terrace. Taehyung’s watching him again, his eyes lifted with a smile.

Once Jimin’s laughter subsides, he unlinks their hands, threading both through Taehyung’s hair instead.

“What are you waiting for then?”

Taehyung laughs, uses his now free hand to tilt Jimin’s chin just right so when he slots their lips together again, it’s with the same intensity he’s wearing in his eyes. The kiss is slow and deep, languid in its overflowing passion. Jimin feels as though he might die if he fills his lungs with anything other than Taehyung’s breath.

A shiver rolls over his body as Taehyung’s hand skims his bare waist, following the contours of his body until he hooks his fingers behind Jimin’s knee and lifts it, Jimin easily moves to hook his leg around Taehyung’s waist.

They’re impossible close like this. With Taehyung pressing down against him, Jimin feels himself start to float away again, his body melting into the futon as an intense pleasure thrums through him, deep enough it touches his soul, the white mark on his arm tickling with it.

When Taehyung squeezes the meat of Jimin’s ass, the moan he lets out is involuntary, but it’s enough to bring him back down to earth for a moment, separating their lips as they both catch their breath.

The space between them isn’t much, their foreheads still pressed together, Taehyung’s pants warm Jimin’s face.

It strains his eyes but still Jimin focuses them on Taehyung, tracing them from his hair, now a mess from Jimin’s hands, to his eyes, wide and looking just as dazed as Jimin feels, and finally to his lips, which even in the dim lighting Jimin can tell are red and swollen.

The stars look so beautiful tonight, but Taehyung is all that Jimin sees, unable to draw his eyes away from the man who’s beauty rivals the meteor shower.

Taehyung’s attractiveness has never been up for debate. It’s a wonder that Jimin bonded with someone who’s so ethereal, who has the kind of face artists would be scrambling to carve into stone if this were a few millennium earlier.

Jimin wants to say something, to fill the silence with more than his pants, but the longer he looks at Taehyung the less able he is to make a coherent sentence.

Eventually, it’s Taehyung who breaks the silence, stroking Jimin's cheek with the back of his fingers as he whispers, “You’re so beautiful.”

And then Jimin’s kissing him, closing the distance between them before he can register he’s moved.

In this moment, he can’t think of a single reason why his lips shouldn’t be locking with Taehyung’s, why their tongues shouldn’t be intertwined and hands exploring every expanse of each other's bodies.

This time when Taehyung’s hand ventures further down Jimin’s body, skimming his waist before returning to cup his ass, Jimin doesn’t pull away.

Instead, he gasps into Taehyung’s mouth and tightens his grip in his hair, the strands tangling tighter around Jimin’s fingers as their kiss deepens impossibly further.

They stay like that for a while, touching and kissing until their movements turn lazy, the kiss moving from something hungry to something more tender as their sleepiness overtakes their desire.

At some point, maybe hours, maybe days — more likely minutes later, Taehyung pulls away and rests his head on Jimin’s chest.

“You’re cold. We should go inside,” he mumbles, voice tired.

Jimin hadn’t realised he was shivering, but now Taehyung’s mentioned it Jimin’s teeth chatter slightly.

It’s hard to tell which goosebumps are due to the chill, and which are the cause of Taehyung’s touch.

They both stumble up, clinging to each other as they shiver across the terrace and into the welcoming warm glow of Taehyung’s apartment.

Jimin doesn’t put up a fight when Taehyung offers him a pair of pyjamas to sleep in, not caring that staying the night with Taehyung is most definitely not what he should be doing.

Taehyung’s bed bounces as Jimin falls back onto it, hugging him like Jimin always wishes his own bed would but never has.

“Your beds so comfy,” Jimin’s eyes threaten to close the moment his head hits the pillow.

The record player fills the room with a static crackle, the record still spinning even though the music has long since come to an end. Taehyung lifts the needle, a stillness settles at the quiet, but it’s not unwanted. The silence doesn’t fill Jimin with dread, his heart isn’t beating rapidly with the pressure to break it.

“Sorry you didn’t get to see much of the stars,” Taehyung says, switching off the lights and climbing into bed next to Jimin.

Even with the lights off the loft isn’t in complete darkness, the windows too large and uncovered to reduce the apartment to black.

In the dead of night, with the slightest glow of street lamps stretching all the way to the top floor of Taehyung’s complex, his home manages to feel cosy and safe in a way Jimin’s own never has.

“It’s okay,” he snuggles down under the quilt, rests his head on Taehyung’s shoulder and stifles a yawn. “The stars aren’t going anywhere.”

“Maybe we can watch them tomorrow,” Taehyung’s voice is slurred with sleep.

“Maybe.”

Jimin pulls Taehyung closer, loops his hand around his waist and snuggles further against his chest, legs tangled together.

As his eyes drift closed, Jimin’s mind reminds him he needs to let go, that he can’t keep holding on to something that’s already dead.

“Goodnight, my love,” Jimin hears Taehyung whisper, his mind barely conscious enough to distinguish the words before he slips under.

It’s hard to let go of something when holding it feels so right.

————༺♡༻————

It’s early afternoon when Jimin’s woken by Taehyung running a hand through his hair. They’re still a mess of tangled limbs under the cover, Jimin’s head propped up on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Taehyung mumbles, voice still deep with sleep.

“Mhm,” is all Jimin manages before his eyes are falling shut again, Taehyung’s hand repeatedly brushing through his hair lulling him back to sleep.

Jimin lets himself doze, drifting in and out of sleep. He feels more than registers the light kisses Taehyung litters over his face, pressing his lips against his cheek, nose, closed eyelids, jaw—wherever he can reach without untangling himself from underneath Jimin.

The hand that Taehyung runs up and down his back in slow gentle strokes pushes him further from consciousness each time, his body relaxing deeper into the mattress.

When Jimin's eyes flutter open, fully conscious this time, the first thing he notices is Taehyung already watching him, a dopey smile on his face.

“‘S weird to watch people sleep, y’know,” Jimin slurs.

Taehyung responds by shuffling further under the duvet, hiding his growing smile behind the cover, “Sorry. You just look so cute when you’re asleep.”

“Look cute when I’m awake too.”

“The cutest.”

Taehyung pats around under the duvet until he finds what he’s searching for and links their hands together, placing an exaggerated kiss on the back of Jimin’s hand with an over the top ‘mwah’.

The second thing Jimin notices is the uneasiness lying in his stomach, reminding him of what he needs to do. For most of the night it had subsided, realising Jimin’s deal with Taehyung was foolproof—no way a little anxiety could force him to go against his word.

This morning, though, it rears its head with a vengeance, screaming at Jimin that his time is up. Their perfect night together is over, the afternoon sun beaming through Taehyung’s windows is evidence of that.

Even so, Jimin can’t shift that dream like fog that’s been clouding his mind since he stepped into Taehyung’s home, blocking out every ounce of common sense he had beforehand.

Which is why when Taehyung leans over to kiss Jimin good morning, he kisses him back without any hesitation, fully conscious and without the guise of a promise justifying his actions.

It’s just a peck, short and sweet, but Jimin lingers, leaning his forehead against Taehyung’s for a moment before pulling back.

“Do you have work today?” Taehyung asks, settling back onto his pillow.

“Nope. I’m opening tomorrow,” Jimin scrunches his nose up in distaste.

He’s been working at the coffee shop for 5 years now, and opening shifts have always been his least favourite—no matter how hard he tries, Jimin can’t adjust to being a morning person.

“Good,” Taehyung smirks, “I was going to persuade you to call in sick if you were.”

Jimin laughs, knowing too well that he wouldn’t be able to say no to Taehyung.

“Now we can stay in bed all day,” Taehyung wraps an arm around Jimin’s waist and pulls him closer, nuzzling his face into Jimin’s neck.

It surprises Jimin—how much happiness is radiating off Taehyung today. He had expected the two of them to wake up with a rain cloud darkening the brightness of yesterday, the prospect of what Jimin has to tell Taehyung weighing them down.

But Jimin can feel the smile on Taehyung’s face as he presses closer into the juncture of Jimin’s shoulder. The hairs on his neck tickle slightly as Taehyung lets out a contented sigh when Jimin wraps his arms around his back, pulling him closer against him.

Jimin wonders if Taehyung’s bidding for time just as he is, not wanting to be the first one to burst the blissful bubble they’ve created.

At some point today, everything will come crashing down. Jimin knows that this is their last day together, that when he comes to leave Taehyung’s home later this evening, it will be with a black mark and a broken heart.

So for now, he holds Taehyung a little tighter, lingers a little longer.

They stay like that for a while, under the safety of Taehyung’s blankets, until Tannie hurtles onto the bed, yapping insistently at Taehyung, only stopping once he untangles his limbs from Jimin’s and bundles Tannie under the quilt with them.

“I think someone wants breakfast,” Taehyung says, scratching Tannie behind his ear in a way that makes him tilt his head closer, “Or, lunch, really.”

The second Taehyung moves to stand, Tannie bolts off the bed, his whole body swaying with the force of his wag whilst he stands at the top of the stairs, eyes boring into Taehyung.

“I’m coming,” Taehyung laughs, following after him, slippers scuffing against the wood as he goes.

The sound of Taehyung pottering around in the kitchen filters up to the mezzanine, no sound kept secret in a space as open plan as Taehyung’s loft.

Jimin lays there, stares at the high ceiling and listens to Taehyung whistling a tune as he clatters some pans around, accidentally dropping one and making Jimin jump in surprise, a loud ‘CLANG’ bouncing off the walls.

Once the echoing has stopped, Jimin can’t help the smile lifting his cheeks as he listens to Taehyung cooing to Yeontan, his voice high and cute.

“Oh I’m sorry Tannie baby, that was really scary, huh?” he says, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jimin can imagine Taehyung crouching down to bring Tannie to his chest, hugging him tight as he apologises for frightening him.

It’s at this moment that Jimin makes a decision.

He bargains with the pit of dread in his stomach, asking it to hold off for a few more hours. Taehyung had asked them to pretend for the night, and while Jimin's promise wasn’t strong enough to hold off the morning, he's no stranger to this fantasy.

There’s no harm in playing this charade for a little longer, not when he already agreed to his part.

Besides, when Jimin was on the precipice of sharing his secret, Taehyung had asked him to wait until tomorrow, which, technically, hasn't arrived yet. With their stargazing date being the early hours of this morning, tomorrow would be—well, tomorrow.

Jimin can allow himself this day; it’s what Taehyung asked for, after all.

When Taehyung comes back upstairs it's with two plates balanced on a tray, two steaming mugs of coffee precariously placed next to them.

“I figured we should have breakfast too.”

He settles back on the bed, pulling the quilt over his knees and placing the tray in between the two of them.

“I’m not a chef, so don’t expect too much, but I had some leftover rice so I made us some nurungji,” Taehyung explains. “My Mum used to make it for me when I was younger”

“Mhm,” Jimin hums as he shuffles closer to the tray, eyeing up their breakfast in bed, “I haven’t had nurungji in years.”

One bite of the sweet, scorched rice has Jimin snapping back to his childhood, to his own mother making the crispy snack for him.

“Is it okay?”

Until Jimin looked up from his plate he hadn’t realised Taehyung was watching him, eyes wide and plate still completely untouched. His eyebrows are drawn down slightly as he observes Jimin, watching for any sign of distaste.

“Delicious,” he says, taking another big mouthful, savouring the crunch as he bites down and fills his mouth with the sugary goodness. “Tastes like home.”

The moment the words are out Jimin realises how Taehyung will interpret them. But as he averts his eyes to his own plate, ears slightly red, he can’t find it in himself to care. Not today.

(Not when Taehyung’s interpretation is true too).

They sit in comfortable silence for the rest of their meal, basking in the domesticity of it. Once Jimin’s finished eating, he lays back down, plumping the cushion under his head as he watches Taehyung finish off his breakfast.

It should be alarming, really, how easily they’ve both fallen into this, how Jimin feels as though he’s had breakfast in bed with Taehyung hundreds of times before, has spent countless lazy mornings snuggling in bed together. It’s a distant thought, something faded and quiet that Jimin can barely make out, that reminds him that this is the first time they’ve done this together.

Before yesterday Jimin had never stepped foot in Taehyung’s home; so why does he feel more comfortable here than he ever did in his own?

“I thought,” Taehyung starts, “as you’re not having to leave for work. And it’s a Thursday, I have the day off too. Maybe—if you want to—we could spend the rest of the day together? Maybe watch a movie, or two…?”

The hesitation that Jimin had expected to see earlier litters Taehyung’s words now. It’s a similar insecurity to the one he wore last night when he was asking Jimin to come with him—the kind that makes him look boyish and young—the kind that every cell in Jimin’s body is screaming at him to get rid of.

Jimin’s mind travels back to their first date, strolling on the beach, trying to fight the urge to hold Taehyung’s hand as they had walked together. It was only a week ago now, but it feels like a lifetime has passed. Taehyung had told Jimin about his daydreams of the two of them; of how he dreamt of them filling their days with mundane things like watching movies with one another until they both fall asleep or staying in bed all day.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

Jimin smiles, and as he climbs out of bed to take Taehyung’s hand and lead them down to the living room he realises he hasn’t felt this light in years. The burden of pretence has lifted, and now the lead isn’t weighing him down, he feels light enough that he might drift away, fly up to sit on the exposed beams decorating Taehyung’s high ceiling.

He holds Taehyung’s hand tighter, keeping himself grounded as he practically hops down the stairs.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Taehyung’s words are filled with the smile he wears.

“Of course I am, I get to spend the whole day with you.”

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Jimin tugs lightly on Taehyung’s hand, pulling him into a brief kiss.

“It’s nice—” Taehyung steals another chaste kiss from Jimin, “—seeing you like this. Smiling.”

The subtle unspoken taboo of his words lingers for a moment, threatening to sour the mood while they’re momentarily reminded of the reality that exists on the other side of Taehyung’s too large windows.

Jimin brushes it away, sweeps the moment under the rug as he drops Taehyung’s hand and settles onto the sofa.

“What should we watch?”

Tannie climbs on his lap the moment Jimin stops shuffling to get comfy, curling up in a tiny ball between his crossed legs.

When Taehyung settles next to Jimin, TV remote in hand, he loops his arm around Jimin’s shoulders so naturally Jimin doesn’t even realise his hand is resting against his bicep until he taps his fingers in time with the startup tune the TV makes as it switches on.

They scroll through Netflix for a while, searching for something that catches both of their eyes. They settle on Spirited Away—a classic that they’ve both seen countless times before, and don’t have to focus on too much.

(Taehyung claims that this is so they can talk as much as they want without having to worry about missing important parts. But really it’s because they spend an obscene amount of time with their tongues down one another's throats instead of watching the screen).

At some point, Tannie gets fed up with them and decides to curl up on the bean bag chair beside the sofa instead of on Jimin’s lap.

Which Taehyung figures is the perfect opportunity to crowd even closer into Jimin’s space, until they’re both lying down, Jimin’s back flat against the sofa, Taehyung’s head resting comfortably on his chest as he cards his hand through Taehyung’s curls.

Once the credits start to roll neither of them make a move to get up or reach for the remote, both too content with how they are to be bothered by the film ending. The vocals flood from the TV, the song sweet and calm—only made sweeter by Taehyung humming along under his breath. Jimin had begun to wonder if Taehyung had fallen asleep, his breathing so slow as he lay across Jimin’s chest, as though the calm that settled over the room had lulled him to sleep.

The screen turns to black then, the credits ending and leaving the room in darkness.

Night has fallen outside, but still neither of them moves to switch the light on.

Along with the night comes the end of their stolen day, Jimin realises, knows that his time is almost up. But still he stays, one hand stroking Taehyung’s hair, the other wrapped tightly around his waist, keeping him there.

He lets his eyes fall shut, the silence making it too easy for Jimin to pretend, to imagine how this could be their always. How they would spend countless nights cuddled into one another on the sofa, watching films they’ve already seen so they can talk through them.

With him holding Taehyung so close, it almost seems within reach.

If he stood on his tiptoes and stretched his arms out as far as they go, maybe his fingertips could brush it. And maybe with practice, with enough time, Jimin might be able to stretch enough to grab it, to wrap his fingers around it and pull it to his chest, holding it close as he is Taehyung now.

And then his eyes flicker open and it disappears from his view, replaced by the stark darkness of the ceiling, stretching high above where they lay.

The dim lights from the buildings around them filter through the window, offering a glow just bright enough that Jimin can make out the unfamiliar shapes of the furniture that make up Taehyung’s living room. He can see the chair Tannie’s asleep on, but the dog's silhouette is a dark mass from this distance, indiscernible enough that if Jimin didn’t know it was a dog, he wouldn’t be able to tell at all.

He wonders, briefly, what it would be like to stay long enough for those strange shadows to become familiar to him. If Taehyung had thought much about Jimin when he bought his loft. If he ever imagined them here, together.

Jimin wants to ask, to know all of the intimate details of the future they could have had whilst he still can, but he knows better.

He wants to tell Taehyung just how badly he wishes they could stay in this moment forever, but he knows the words are laced with their parting, and he can’t bring himself to consider that just yet.

Before he can open his mouth and say something regretful, Taehyung’s stomach lets out a rumble so loud Jimin jumps at the break in the silence.

After that, the moments shattered and Taehyung’s whole body starts convulsing with laughter, vibrating against Jimin as the silence is replaced by his deep chortle.

“Maybe we should order some food?” Taehyung asks, turning his head so his chin rests on Jimin’s chest, their faces barely an inch apart.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

20 minutes later Taehyung is running back through the front door with too many bags of takeout and a tiny dog circling his feet like a shark.

Jimin had set the dining table, nosing through Taehyung’s kitchen cabinets as he searched for the cutlery, taking advantage of being in Taehyung’s apartment alone whilst Taehyung was collecting the food from the foyer.

Yeontan had side eyed him from the dining chair he perched on, but didn’t make a move to stop him. Jimin had taken that as permission and swung open Taehyung’s fridge, just to see what kind of food he had in there.

Turns out it wasn’t a hyperbole when Taehyung said he didn’t cook, almost all of the shelves in his fridge lay bare, mostly filled with drinks and condiments.

Music filters from the TV, a relaxed pop playlist, filled with songs Jimin knows. As much as he enjoys the atmosphere that Taehyung’s old jazz records create, he’s enjoying singing along as he saunters around Taehyung’s kitchen, bobbing to the beat as he sits at the table with his back to the kitchen facing the window.

“The delivery guy said that because we ordered so much they gave us a free portion of fried chicken,” Taehyung laughs, dumping the bags next to Jimin.

Jimin stares as he begins emptying the never ending containers onto the table.

“We already ordered too much, and they gave us more?” He snorts.

Neither of them could decide on what to order, both of them at the stage of hungry where everything sounded too tempting; so they ordered everything that looked delicious.

But now, as the boxes fill the dining table large enough to seat 4 people, it’s clear that their eyes were much bigger than their stomachs.

Silence rings out for a moment whilst the two of them take in the feast in front of them.

“How are we going to eat all of this?” The slight stress straining Taehyung’s voice tickles Jimin so much he can’t keep the laughter at bay, keeling over onto the table and laughing so loud it echoes around the room.

“Why are you laughing? This is serious,” Taehyung says, but he’s barely managing to keep a straight face himself.

“Have you always been an over feeded?” Jimin asks, wiping the tears in the corner of his eye. When Taehyung looks over the mountain of food with a confused expression, Jimin clarifies, “When we went on our first date, you brought enough picnic food to feed an army.”

“Oh,” Taehyung chuckles, “I was worried I wouldn’t get enough food that you liked, so I went overboard. To be honest, I was so nervous I didn’t notice how much there was until you pointed it out.”

The confession catches Jimin off guard, his mouth stretching into a satisfied grin, “You were nervous?”

On each of their dates thus far, Taehyung has seemed perfectly poised, not an ounce of nerves to be found. It almost seemed funny in comparison to Jimin.

“I thought it was obvious.”

Jimin shakes his head, brows lifted in surprise, “You always seem so composed.”

Taehyung throws his head back and laughs, the deep ‘HA’ bouncing from the walls.

“I don’t think I've felt composed since our first meeting."

Jimin’s hand freezes halfway through stirring a container of noodles, “But you’re so calm and happy all the time…”

“Yeah, and riddled with nerves. You really couldn’t tell?”

“Not even for a second.”

There had been a hint of nerves before his performance on Saturday, which is to be expected, but other than when Taehyung picked Jimin up yesterday, he hasn’t seemed uneasy about any of this. It seemed as though it all came so naturally to him.

“Hm, interesting,” Taehyung ponders. “I could tell you were nervous, still are a bit, I think.”

It occurs to Jimin that he’s really been terrible at hiding his nerves, that he hasn’t really tried all that hard. Taehyung doesn’t know the real reason behind them, and Jimin would like to keep it that way at least until the end of their meal.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’ve realised but you’re incredibly handsome. It’s a bit intimidating sometimes.”

“Sorry. I’ll try to be less handsome in the future,” he says, smothering his smug smile around a mouthful of bulgogi.

By the time they’ve finished eating, their stomachs are full—as are most of the containers on the table.

“How have we not even made a dent?” Taehyung mumbles, slowly chewing his last mouthful.

“I think there’s more food here than when we started eating," Jimin slumps back in his chair with a sigh, stomach fuller than he ever remembers it being. "What do we do with the leftovers?”

“I’ll invite my friends over tomorrow, they’ll clear me out in no time.”

He mirrors Jimin’s pose, leaning back in his chair, stomach rubbing his stomach.

“I can’t imagine Seokjin hyung being a big eater,” Jimin says, remembering how lithe Seokjin had looked in his waistcoat.

“He isn’t. But Namjoon hyung’s soulmate is. He’ll have this cleaned up within an hour.”

“He couldn’t make it on Saturday night?” Jimin asks, vaguely remembering Namjoon mentioning something about him.

“Yeah, he was at work. But he’ll be there this weekend. I’m excited for the two of you to meet, I think you’ll get along really well.”

Jimin nods, the pit returning to his stomach when he realises that won’t happen.

“He’s a dancer too, you’ll have that in common.”

“I don’t dance anymore.”

“Why not?” Taehyung leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table, “That's why you moved to Seoul, right?”

Jimin shrugs, “Too hard.”

He’s explained this to Taehyung before, mentioned it briefly whilst they were sitting on the beach, told him that it seemed unachievable after graduating university.

Jimin had found odd jobs here and there, dancing in the background of a music video or as an understudy for a big ballet, but never enough to pay the bills. In the end, he’d had no choice but to take on extra shifts at the coffee shop, any spare time he could have put on rehearsing or auditioning was spent pouring coffee and serving cake.

Which Jimin loves too, of course. But the buzz of making the perfect latte is incomparable to standing on the stage.

What Jimin purposefully omits is that the last day he stepped into a dance studio was also the same day Yoongi got his soulmate mark. Nothing felt worth it after that.

“Have you considered starting again?” Taehyung phrases the question carefully, his soulmate bond most likely telling him that Jimin’s uncomfortable talking about this.

“There’s no point. The industry is too saturated, and everyone’s so talented, it’s hard to stand out.”

“But you love it.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You would give up on something you love that much so easily?”

Jimin averts his eyes, stares pointedly at his lap where he’s twisting the drawstring of his borrowed pyjamas around his index finger, pulling it tight until the skin turns red.

“It’s just… it’s not practical.”

“Neither is being a jazz singer in an underground club, and yet I’m doing it.”

He can’t help the scoff he lets out, the comparison ridiculous now he’s witnessed Taehyung in his element.

“That’s different. I’ve seen you on stage, you were born for it. No one can perform like that; it makes you irreplaceable. What I do?” he shrugs nonchalantly, as though it isn’t a big deal, as though deciding to quit wasn’t one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make. “I’m good at it, but so are the 30 other people in the audition room with me. I can’t do anything they can’t, we just follow the steps.”

“I don’t believe you. I saw the way you watched those dancers in the park. There’s no way that someone who thinks dancing is just following steps would have watched them with such longing in his eyes.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“Seriously. I thought you were going to cry.”

Jimin laughs, “They were very good.”

Taehyung picks up his phone then, switches the playlist on the TV over to something more moody, a dramatic piano piece swims into the kitchen.

“Is this any good?” He asks, one eyebrow raised.

Jimin’s confused, it’s as though he’s accidentally disconnected from the conversation for a few minutes and zoned back in after the subject changed.

“For what?”

“For a dance,” he gestures to the open space between the kitchen and dining table.

“I’m not dancing right now!” Jimin baulks.

“Why not?”

“That’s so embarrassing.”

Taehyung pouts slightly, “But I want to see.”

“I-i haven’t danced in months. And I don’t know this song.”

“What song do you want?” He picks his phone up again, quickly swiping through the songs, filling the loft with disjointed snippets as he skips them, “I have all the songs.”

“I don’t dance anymore," he repeats, words less confident this time.

“Not even for your soulmate?”

“Definitely not,” he reconsiders, “At least not while I'm this sober.”

Taehyung shoots to his feet so fast the table jolts with the movement.

“What do you want to drink? I have all of the drinks too,” Jimin’s laughter follows him over to the kitchen cabinet where he squats down to peer inside, reading out the labels to Jimin, “Wine, whisky, vodka, gin? I have this fancy peppermint one that you might like?”

“I’m not getting drunk right now,” he laughs. “Come and sit back down.”

Taehyung closes the cupboard door slowly, still pouting as he stands, his arms hanging at his sides in defeat.

“What if we dance together?” he tries, “I know some moves too!”

He starts body rolling and thrusting his hips in a way that doesn’t match the dramatic piano ballad at all and Jimin nearly falls off his chair with how hard he’s laughing.

Yeontan jumps off the chair he’d been snoozing on, running over to join in the ruckus as Taehyung’s performance is cut short as he bursts into laughter too.

“Maybe I’ll see you dance one day,” he says, running a hand through Jimin’s hair as he sits back at the table.

Yeontan sprints into the living room, fully awake now the mood in the loft is filled with laughter. When he runs back around the sofa, he’s carrying a rope toy that’s too long to dangle from his mouth, his paws tripping over it every other step.

Jimin coos at how cute he is, not hesitating to climb onto the floor and play with him. He grabs the other end of the toy and jiggles it, laughing as Yeontan lets out an unthreatening growl, his whole body wiggling as Jimin shakes the toy.

“How is he so cute even when he growls?” Jimin asks, turning back to Taehyung.

Taehyung’s watching them, his head resting in his palm, a soft smile on his face. He looks serene in a way that Jimin isn’t sure he’s seen him look before. It takes his breath away for a moment.

Something shifts in the room, something that Jimin can’t put a name to but his skin litters with goosebumps all the same. Taehyung must feel it too — his eyes gleam with something indescribable, lighting up as though he’s just figured something out.

Jimin’s about to open his mouth and ask Taehyung what’s going on when a sharp jolt shoots down his arm. He drops the rope on instinct, turns to check if Yeontan accidentally scratched him, but the dog sits there perfectly still, toy on the floor as though he dropped it in shock—as though he felt the change in the atmosphere too.

It happens again, and this time Jimin lets out an audible ‘ah’ as his arm tingles with the strange sensation. It’s only when he reaches down and pulls his sleeve up that he realises what’s happening.

Time stands still as Jimin watches his arm, with each jolt that runs down his skin, his white mark slowly turns to red, the colour growing deeper each time.

“No,” he whispers, voice constricted with panic as his arm tingles again, “No. No, no, no. Stop it. Taehyung stop it!”

He shoots to his feet, his right arm cupping his left elbow as he watches, completely uselessly as his deepest fear materialises in front of his eyes.

“Stop what?” Taehyung’s voice matches Jimin’s panic. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it!” Jimin’s voice wobbles, his vision blurring with tears he can’t control.

“I’m not thinking anything!” Taehyung almost yells, alarmed at the sudden change in Jimin’s mood. “What’s happening?”

With the next tingle across his forearm, nausea follows it, rolling thickly in Jimin's stomach so intensely that he almost bolts for the toilet. The anxiety that he had compartmentalised all day rematerialises, sending trembles down his arm and squeezing his chest tight with panic.

“No no no no,” he sobs out, tears free falling down his face now, dripping off his chin.

“Jimin, what–” Taehyung hovers behind him, peering over his shoulder, his sentence cut off as he watches the final part of Jimin’s mark, the circle around his finger turn red with a prickle, “Oh.”

Jimin can’t bring himself to look at Taehyung, can’t witness the happiness in his eyes dim to confusion and then heartbreak when he realises the reason Jimin’s crying is because Taehyung is in love with him.

He can’t bring himself to face the destruction he created. Not when he knows he could have avoided it. He knew all the right steps to take, and still he willingly led them here. At every fork in the road he turned towards Taehyung instead of away, he let himself be swept up in this, knowing the consequences, knowing the price was too steep for him to pay.

And now his mark is red.

And now, Taehyung has given him the one thing that Jimin can’t return.

Taehyung brings Jimin back to the room with a gentle hand on his shoulder, only the tips of his fingers as though he’s scared to spook Jimin, but the light touch is all Jimin needs to recoil, to run to the other end of the room, his back pressed against the cold brick as he struggles to draw a breath.

“I don’t understand,” Taehyung says, his voice small and confused.

Taehyung doesn’t move from where he’s stood next to the dining table and Jimin makes the foolish mistake to glance over to him, to see the way his chin wobbles slightly as tears begin to spring free from his eyes–eyes that were shining with laughter only moments ago.

He looks small again, and Jimin hates that this is the last memory he will have of Taehyung.

“I’m s-so sorry,” Jimin barely manages to get out as he slowly backs away towards the door.

“I don’t understand,” Taehyung repeats, his voice stronger this time, verging on a plea. He takes a step forward, but doesn’t move further to close the gap between them.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Jimin cries, his chest heaving.

He has enough wits about himself to grab his phone from the sofa before he slips his shoes on, his vision so blurry he has to grab for the door twice before it slides open.

“I’m sorry.” he says again, as though it’ll make a difference.

And then he runs, sliding the door shut behind him to a confused shout of his name.

He doesn’t remember his journey down to the foyer, or leaving Taehyung’s complex through the gate, he only comes back to himself when he collapses against the cold concrete, lungs out of air as he cries, not holding back on his sobs now he’s sitting at the side of the road alone.