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jiminniethemarshmallow · 1 year

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I Remember (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, a sprinkle of angst

Word count: 16k (this is probably going to end up being novel length lol)

Warnings: Memory loss, mentions of death and grief, reader is depressed in the beginning :(

(A/N): Been working on this since 2020 and now I’ve written enough that I can start posting parts! This is part 1 and I think it’ll have 3 or 4 parts depending on how long they are so please leave feedback and your ideas might be featured in coming parts!

“Remember how it was with you? Remember how you pulled me through?

I remember.” -Deadmau5

TAG: @13-manggaetteok (please let me know if anyone else would like to be added to the tag list)

Part 2

Sighing, you take another sip from your wine glass. Your date continues to speak as you sit in the dimly lit restaurant, your plates as empty as your mind as you listen to him with faux interest. He isn’t droning on about some self-absorbed, unprompted story like so many other guys you have dated, you actually asked him to tell you this one, and you are sure it would be completely riveting if you could focus on any of the words he’s saying. This is your fifth date with him and he checks all of your boxes: he’s handsome, funny, highly intelligent (including emotional intelligence), and he’s a good listener. On top of that, he seems to be really attracted to you— something he told you after the first date, but you ignored him because you were still virtual strangers at that point. But he’s stayed consistent these past few weeks and he is one of the best guys you’ve ever met. Which is why you hate your heart for not liking him the way you should.

You’re staring at his hands as they move around during his story, forcing out a chuckle here and there whenever he laughs, and it’s amazing to you how he hasn’t realized by now how one-sided this interaction has become. Your focus only snaps back when he says your name at some point, and it is then that you look him in the face for the first time in several minutes. Though, he still hasn’t noticed. You can’t help the sting in your heart when you think of the person who always noticed everything about you, sometimes even before you realized them yourself. His face creeps to the forefront of your mind and you immediately shove it away, blinking quickly and re-centering yourself in your seat.

“Are you okay?” Your date asks finally, concern stitched into his eyebrows when you meet his eyes.

You offer him a tired smile and answer blandly. “Today’s just been a bad day.” When he asks you to elaborate, there’s nothing much you can really say. Everyday has been a bad day for the past few years. You don’t remember what it feels like to have a good day. So you simply shrug, not even attempting to come up with an excuse. Thankfully, he doesn’t question you further, suggesting that you call it a night and driving you home after picking up the bill.

You’re glad he doesn’t pressure you for more than the dry hug and kiss on the cheek you give him once he drops you off at your door. You told him you wanted to take things slow when he first took interest in you, and so far he’s been true to his word. He really is a great guy.

Tonight was going to be like any other night, you could feel it. Your shoes kicked off at the door, dress thrown into the hamper on your way into the shower, your sheets still a mess on your bed from this morning when you slowly climb back into them. What the hell were you even doing? Staring up at your ceiling, you feel your face droop. It’s been so long, you should really try to move on. Well, you were trying, but you needed to try harder. Everything shouldn’t be moving this slowly, the world should not have stopped for one man; but your world has stopped spinning it feels, and no matter how hard you try to push ahead you just can’t get it back on its axis.

Sleep doesn’t find you tonight. You know from experience that your vibrator is a kind friend that helps you sleep on lonely nights, but you’re lonely by choice and you feel that you don’t deserve to find pleasure tonight. Your date would have been more than happy to help you, but you chose to end your night in solitude, so you decide that you should suffer. The darkness drags on as you watch your walls, but even worse than the darkness is the ever brightening pale light that starts to color your room all too soon.

——

Blazing white shines through your window and angles right into your already open eyes, your alarm clock serving no purpose whatsoever except to spike your heart rate and start your morning off with a headache. One cup of coffee, two sugars and lots of creamer is adequate enough to serve as your breakfast. And maybe an apple. You brush the flavors out of your mouth, wash the sleep from your face, and head to your closet to pick out your plain work attire, slipping on whatever was most comfortable to avoid any unnecessary irritation later in the day.

When it comes time for accessories, you fumble with the hook on your thin necklace, find the first pair of matching earrings and put them on, and slip on a sleek watch. Your eyes roll over your organized jewelry box until they land on the velvet box that sits neatly in its corner, untouched and getting dusty. You reach out your hand to grab it, but it stops on its own, your fingers twitching slightly before they ball into a fist and your arm retracts. Finishing your look with a simple coat of lipstick, you don’t bother with any other makeup and hurry out of the door even though you are 15 minutes ahead of schedule.

Work is uneventful as always, but the promise of your plans later in the day keep you going. Your friends had scheduled an evening at the spa together to unwind and catch up with each other. You much prefer this to the original plan of shopping in the strip mall at all of the stores you have been to a million times already. A spa day would be great for you physically, and catching up with your girls would do wonders for your mental health, you’ve felt awfully lonesome in the past few weeks and you needed people to talk to other than your narcissistic coworkers.

You think this as you drive through a town center straight after work, humming to your favorite songs and enjoying the weather with the windows down. Today the weather is perfect, sparse clouds and sunny skies make for warm temperatures and a nice breeze that comforts your soul. It’s a somewhat busy day, people walking in and out of stores and restaurants or sitting on benches, just enjoying life. You don’t often people watch, but out of curiosity you look into the crowd as you drive past, screeching to a sudden halt as your foot slams on the brakes. The horrendous noise draws the attention of several people, and the person behind you honks and curses as he swerves around your vehicle, yet you don’t hear any of it. You freeze at the familiar face you see standing on the sidewalk, your heart all but stopping in hope, fear, and worry.

Maybe you were hallucinating.

Maybe this was all some kind of messed up daydream you’re having because you didn’t get enough sleep last night and you fell asleep with your eyes open at the wheel.

Yeah, that has to be it. However, you still speed to reach the entrance of the parking lot and hop out of your car without even locking the doors. The jog over to that place is short and you pray that he’s still there when you get there. If he was even real in the first place. Those thoughts don’t last long, though, because once you turn the corner you spot him; that face that has been burned into your every thought— your every breath— for three whole years now. He looks confused, craning his neck backwards to see the names plastered on each store front, and you could almost think he’s lost.

Before you could stop yourself, your lips are moving, your voice coming out as a choked out gasp once your brain allows you to accept the reality. “Jimin!” That’s him. That is unmistakably him.

He turns to you and you lock eyes, jump starting your feet into action as you stride over to him. His eyes widen at your approach in what you assume to be recognition, and your eyes well up with tears. Once you are in front of him, you look at him up close, the crease in your forehead growing with the flood of emotions rushing through you. He continues to stare at you wide eyed, almost afraid, and you want to laugh and cry at the same time because you just can’t believe this is real.

“Jimin?” Reverently, you lift your hand to touch his cheek, the skin there immediately flushing with color, and once you confirm that this is not a visual hallucination, you crumble. Something in the back of your mind tells you not to hug him, but you loop your arms around him regardless and let the tears flow, his scent overtaking you. He can feel you shaking as he returns the hug, and you don’t notice how loose and hesitant his arms feel until you pull away to look at him again. His face does not mirror yours, however, and you frown.

“I-“ He swallows, a guilt written on his face that you cannot yet decipher. “I’m sorry, but who are you? Am I supposed to know you?”

The words come out slowly, but they shatter you all the same. At first, you’re baffled, wiping your eyes to get another clear view of him as you look him up and down meticulously. Aside from his usually dark hair, which is now dyed a dirty blonde, everything about him is exactly the same as you remember. It is impossible for you to have messed this one up. Maybe you were going crazy. The thought of him being a doppelgänger crosses your mind, but you dismiss that idea immediately because there is no way someone could coincidentally mimic Jimin this perfectly, even down to the moles on his neck.

“What- what do you mean?” You whisper, and for the first time, his face shares the same emotion as yours: mortification. You, because you’re now convinced that you have the wrong person despite every one of your senses telling you that he is exactly who you think he is. Him, because he’s drawing a blank on everything about you and it is clear to him that he 100% does not know who you are, even though it is apparent that he should know you and that you were most likely very close at one point. It’s silent for only a second.

“I don’t... know you.” This time he sounds unsure, cringing at himself as he hears just how bad that sounds. It’s almost as if he can see your heart breaking in your chest. “I, um, you’ll have to excuse me, I got into an accident and have severe amnesia. If it makes you feel any better, you probably aren’t the only person I forgot.” The smile he offers you is apologetic and you don’t have the strength to be angry. You’re just confused.

“No, it’s- it’s okay.” You stutter, shutting your eyes to try to process his words. He’s forgotten about you. You wonder what else he’s forgotten about.

“I just got here and I’m supposed to meet with my family, but I can’t find the building. Everything looks different from what I remember. Will you help me?” Jimin continues on as if your entire awkward exchange didn’t happen, as if he’s a tourist visiting a new city for the first time and is asking for directions. As if he hasn’t lived here his whole life. He shows you the name of the meeting place on his phone and you feel knives sink into your heart. It’s his favorite place in your town, a bar and grille with a lovely view of the outside scenery, and you haven’t been there in a few years but you can still picture it vividly. He took you there for your first date and it quickly became Your Spot. You spent every night there for more than a week when Jimin first disappeared, sitting and drinking, dazed and crying, spending hours there until it closed and they were forced to kick you out.

“Yeah,” You hear yourself say. “I’ll walk you there, it’s not far.” The two of you stand there for a second more, just looking at each other, until you realize that you are the one who is supposed to lead. He follows in silence, looking around at the buildings with curiosity and pouting his lips, which you guess is because he doesn’t recall any of this. But you remember. You remember how you would spend hours kissing those same lips and how beautiful they look whenever they’re stretched into a smile.

Stopping at the restaurant, you turn toward him again, nerves slicking your fingertips at the thought of him leaving you again. For a second you contemplate going in with him, seeing his family again and experiencing the reunion to the fullest because they, too, considered you as family. But you decide against it, giving him directions to his favorite table in case he gets lost inside. You expect him to thank you and walk away, but he just stands there blushing at you.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, biting his lip and pushing his hair back like he always used to do when he was frustrated. It’s nice to see that he still has the same habits. “I know this is probably really hard for you. I haven’t met with anyone else here, so I’m not sure how to respond to people from my past yet, but I appreciate this.”

“It’s no problem, really.” You can’t meet his eyes anymore, dropping them down to the pavement below you. You don’t know what else to say to him.

“We should meet up sometime to talk. I’m sure you have a lot of questions and-“ He’s back to biting his lip, the color on his cheeks darkening. “And I would really like to get to know you again, if you’ll let me.” This brings your gaze back to his face to see how red he’s gotten, one of his hands coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. You never thought you’d see Jimin get shy in front of you again, but here he is, just as modest as the first time you met. Well, for him this is the first time. It’s cute.

“Yeah, that would be really nice.” You smile. His eyes widen just slightly when your face brightens, and he hides his reaction by clumsily handing you his phone to enter your name and number. He forgot to unlock it for you and realizes this after it’s already out of his hands, but you enter his passcode without missing a beat, surprised when you find that it is the same as it was 3 years ago. It’s a new phone and none of his contacts are there, but he is still the same person he was before, which is a relief. “My name is (Y/n), by the way.” You say as you hand him back his device.

He reads your name on the screen then repeats it out loud, the sound of your name coming from his mouth doing something to your heart and body that you never thought you’d feel again. He can most likely see the shiver that runs through you, but he ignores it, sticking out his hand for you to shake instead.

“It was nice to meet you... again, (Yn).” You laugh lightheartedly and take his hand, the contact far too brief for your liking, but you don’t want to encroach upon his personal boundaries because he doesn’t know you anymore. Watching him walk in, you stand at the door and observe the explosion of emotions that cross his family’s face when they spot him, all of them jumping up to give him a giant group hug, which he accepts easily. It appears that he remembers all of them and you’re suddenly very glad that you didn’t intrude, letting them have their moments with him.

Once you’re back in your car, you pause to think about what just happened. Was that real? Jimin is back home, alive, but he has amnesia and doesn’t remember you at all. Amnesia. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was all some sort of cringy cliche written at 3am by some sleep deprived lunatic. But that’s a rollercoaster of emotions that you do not have the energy to work through at the moment, so you focus on being clearheaded enough to drive back to your home, playing the music a little louder than normal to drown out the swarming thoughts.

——

Steam rises from the heated rocks as you pour more water onto them. The room is hot and foggy, humid in a way that labors your lungs and frees your pores. You sit alongside your friends Mina and Joy in the sauna after your massages, your body successfully relaxed, but your mind is anything but. It’s been a few hours since your encounter at the town center, and the soothing atmosphere of this spa has given you enough time to let everything sink in. So as your friends talk amongst themselves cheerfully, you sit in silence and try to figure out exactly how you should be feeling right now.

“And what’s with (Y/n)?” Joy pouts, catching your attention as she looks over her nose at you.

“Yeah, you’ve been quiet this entire time, what’s on your mind?” Mina prompts, spreading her legs as she slumps against the wooden walls, her towel thankfully long enough to cover her. She’s always so brazen, never afraid to say what she thinks or drop her etiquette as soon as she gets comfortable. You didn’t know you needed a friend like that until you met her, and you’ve been pretty much attached at the hip ever since. She is also very perceptive when it comes to you, where others tend to find you hard to read.

You take a deep breath and shift your eyes back and forth between their faces, unsure if they would think you were crazy or not for what you were about to say. Pondering how you would phrase this, you take a moment to sort your thoughts before throwing caution to the wind and letting them into your head.

“I saw Jimin today...” Silence. “This is not a ‘I’m having a psychotic break and now I see ghosts’ thing— I actually saw him and spoke to him today. And I touched him and he seemed pretty damn real.” More silence.

Mina looks pale and is in absolute shock, her mouth parted open and her eyes wide as saucers. You fully expected this reaction. Both of them had been there for you when you fell into a depression 3 years ago after Jimin disappeared. They saw all of the stages of your grief, helped to take care of you when you stopped taking care of yourself, and they contributed to most of your recovery in the aftermath. So to hear such startling news from you is probably something they would have never expected, especially since you said it so casually. Mina is rightfully speechless. Joy, on the other hand, looks as though she had just been reminded of something and taps her fingers on her seat excitedly as if she were trying to remember more details in order to recite it to you.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you!” She gasps, nearly jumping from her seat. “I heard a rumor from Taehyung late last night that Jimin was alive and well and had contacted his family. I guess he came back to visit them.”

“He came to visit? So he’s been alive this whole time and hasn’t reached out to anyone, but all of a sudden he wants to come to visit?” After fully accepting the situation, Mina appears to be angry, a stance you would have also taken if it had not been for your recent encounter. But you can only feel irritation as something else becomes apparent.

“Wait, Taehyung told you this last night and he didn’t think to tell me?” Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin’s best friend, who promised to keep in touch after his friend disappeared, then stopped returning your calls and messages about 6 months ago. But despite that, he should have at least thought to tell you such important information as soon as he found it out— and what’s more is that you still haven’t heard from him and it’s been almost 24 hours since Joy got the message. You understand if Jimin’s family didn’t think to tell you immediately, there must’ve been a million other things on their minds, but if Taehyung had the time to tell Joy, he certainly could have sent a message to you too.

“Actually, he announced it in a small group text he sent last night, but knowing you, you probably ignored it.” Joy explains, nervous for your reaction. It’s true, you don’t often look at messages and you’ve basically logged off from other forms of social media, so it’s pretty difficult to get in contact with you unless it’s a direct message. You’ve muted all of your chats, so it’s likely that you refused to look at the messages altogether.

“Yeah…” It’s silent for a few seconds as they watch you, but when it seems that you won’t say much else, Mina continues.

“So, what happened when you saw Jimin today? What did he say?”

“He didn’t know who I was, said he had amnesia from an accident. He asked me-“ You let out a half chuckle, thinking about how ridiculous and unfortunate the circumstances were. “He asked me how to get to Full Moon.”

“Full Moon? His favorite place in probably the entire world?” Joy gapes in disbelief.

“If he doesn’t know how to get there, then his amnesia must be really serious. It’s no wonder he didn’t know who you were.” Shaking her head, Mina makes a sound of sympathy that does nothing to console you. “How did you feel about it?”

“How else am I supposed to feel about it? I was hurt that he couldn’t even recognize my face. He looked me right in the eye and I could tell that there was nothing, not an ounce of familiarity when he saw me.” Your voice cracks, emotion choking up in your throat.

“But?”

“But I was so, so relieved. Like, I don’t know, a weight had been lifted from my chest or something. I can’t even begin to describe how it felt to see him— to know that he was okay— when I had resigned myself to the thought that I would never see him again.” Tears leak onto your cheeks as you finally allow yourself to feel the emotions you had been holding in since that moment, the boldest and deepest layer of yourself finally surfacing. You don’t know if they can see your tears through the rest of the moisture that drips down your face due to the heat, but they each lean forward and offer a comforting pat on the knee anyway.

“So, are you going to see him again? I’m sure you didn’t just let him walk away without arranging something.” Joy asks hopefully.

“I gave him my number and he said he wanted to meet up. I think… I think he likes me.” You giggle incredulously while wiping your face, earning a scoff from Mina.

“He better like you. True feelings don’t just disappear when you lose your memory, if he really loved you before then he’ll be back in your arms in no time.”

“She’s right.” Joy smiles. “The heart wants what the heart wants. And it doesn’t forget.” These words make your own heart race, recalling that suffocating feeling you ignored when you first saw him, the one that came with the overwhelming recognition of his ethereal beauty that your memory could not entirely replicate in his absence. It’s as if no time had passed at all for your heart, and all of those feelings came flooding back in almost instantly. All you can do is conceal a smile from them, bashfully shifting your eyes to the floor. “Which brings me to my next question; are you going to tell him about your relationship?”

This is something you’ve also been thinking about for the past couple of hours, yet you’re still in a stalemate with yourself. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, to me it’s obvious: of course you have to tell him. He has to know who you are to him— or who you were to him before this— if you’re going to make any progress at all. He’ll probably ask you about it anyway.” Mina presents this easily as if there was no real issue here. Objectively, it seems like telling him would be the next and only step forward if you were to rebuild anything with him or jog his memory. But you see several problems with this, which you try to explain.

“But telling him won’t be as easy as that. Jimin doesn’t remember anything about me, today was technically the first time we met, at least to him. He might feel uncomfortable or pressured when he hears that we were a couple since I’m literally a stranger now. Plus, I have all my memories of him, so it may be awkward for him to get to know me again when he realizes just how close we were. No, knowing him, he’ll probably be extremely embarrassed because I know everything about him and now it’s a one sided relationship because he knows nothing about me. He gets upset with himself when he sees an old friend after a long time and can’t remember their name after they called his, imagine how he’ll be when he learns about me.”

“Okay, so what’s your game plan? You have to meet with him eventually, you can’t keep it a secret forever.” Frowning, Mina tries not to say anything too crude because your voice is turning whiny and tears line your eyes again.

“That is, assuming no one tells him before then.” Joy adds.

“I,” It’s a tough situation that you think hard about, the steam clearing enough that you can clearly see how closely they inspect you, awaiting your answer. “I guess I’ll have to limit the information I give him. I’ll tell him we were dating, but I won’t tell him how long I’ve known him or many more details unless he asks.” That sounds somewhat doable. Though, you were never good at hiding things from him.

“You know he will.” Mina comments, knowing just how curious Jimin could be.

“Then, I’ll have the censor and deflect. It’s too soon for him to know.”

——

Hazy white shines through your window and bounces off the edges of your room, your alarm clock waking you with a start from your confusing dream, heart racing from the suddenness. One cup of coffee, two sugars and lots of cream sits on your counter as you munch on a lightly toasted waffle and a banana. You brush the flavors out of your mouth, rinse the sleep from your face, and head to your closet to pick out a sundress, slipping it on and checking yourself out in the mirror to make sure it wasn’t too dressy.

Eye makeup and lipstick complete, you move on to accessories. You reach for a pair of nice stud earrings, clasp a dangling necklace around your neck, and slip on a matching bracelet. Your eyes scan your organized jewelry box until they land on that familiar velvet box, its appearance seeming slightly more prominent among the other shimmering jewelry. It’s like Pandora’s box, calling for you to open it, but you know that if you do you’ll be flooded with memories and thoughts powerful enough to topple over your already unstable world. You walk away before you are tempted any further.

Joy was right, you have several messages from the group chat Taehyung created, and upon opening the messages, you see that he had indeed notified you of Jimin’s return. Aside from Joy, the other person in the group was Jungkook, who had been friends with Jimin since they were children and therefore has known him the longest. Most of the messages are from him, asking questions of his whereabouts and badgering Taehyung about the source of this information. Jungkook seemed pretty skeptical about the whole thing, rightfully so, and he was almost in denial— according to his frantic questioning. It’s true that Taehyung was Jimin’s current best friend, but Jungkook was his best friend first. And even after Jimin became impossibly close with Taehyung in his high school years, Jimin still remained shy Jungkook’s best and most reliable friend. In fact, they were practically like brothers. So his disappearance had affected the young man greatly. You’d reached out to Jungkook a few times and he was kinder to you than Taehyung had been, but you soon found that your presence did little to help either of you, so you both agreed that it would be okay to stop contacting each other. You do still check in with him occasionally, but it’s been pretty awkward as of late.

Recent messages in the chat reveal that both he and Taehyung met with Jimin this morning. Taehyung complains that Jimin hardly remembers anything, warning you to be prepared if you were going to meet with him, even though he probably isn’t sure you’ll look at the messages at all. Joy answers by informing him that you had run into Jimin 4 days ago, so you already know about his amnesia, but both of the men warn you anyway. You consider responding, but decide against it.

Instead, you open the unread messages from your love interest, Jaebeom, asking you to a sixth date sometime next week. He originally asked if you could meet today, but you told him that you already had plans, so he generously allowed you to pick a day anytime next week. When you saw him just 5 days ago, you told him that you’d love for him to take you out again soon, especially since you felt bad for ending your date early, but now you’re beginning to regret saying that. Of course, he hadn’t done anything wrong, but seeing Jimin changed things for you and you aren’t sure you could be with another man after finding out that your past lover had returned. You and Jimin never broke up, so was this technically cheating? Even though he doesn’t remember you? These are tough thoughts to grapple and you find yourself stuck between moving on and trying to rekindle a past flame, despite the risk that his flame no longer exists for you.

You ignore the messages for now, convinced that you’ll be able to come to a decision about your response to him after you see Jimin again. Hoping that speaking to him will sway you in a clear direction. You’ve been texting him all week, but your conversations haven’t been very deep so far. He still has no idea who you are to him, but at least now he knows your general information. You’ll save the rest for when you see him in person.

The restaurant is fairly empty this time of day, allowing you to spot Jimin as soon as you walk through the doors. He sits casually at your usual booth in his usual spot, facing the front doors and staring out of the window at the outside scenery. Just seeing him there brings you back to your first date, like you’ve just hopped in a time machine and are now reliving that unforgettable day. But despite the nostalgia you feel, you remind yourself that this is vastly different from your first date, and a new wave of nerves hits you. Your steps are slow as they walk through the restaurant, dragging out the seconds as your mind races. He hasn’t spotted you yet, it isn’t too late to turn around and walk back out to regroup.

Will you be able to withhold information from him like you planned? Does keeping that information from him— information about himself that he is entitled to know— make you a bad person? Will you even be able to hold your tongue once you start talking to him? You aren’t sure you’ll be able to tell your lies of omission straight to his face once he asks in his soft voice and looks at you with those beautiful, sincere eyes-

Oh shit, he’s looking at you!

You didn’t even realize you were this close to the table already, and in three more steps, you find yourself sliding into the booth across from him with a smile more timid than his. He stares at you unabashedly, looking you over thoroughly, emboldened by the assumption that you are already quite acquainted so this shouldn’t be awkward. But it is. For you, at least. You want to hide your face from his gaze, yet you can’t tear your eyes from him either. It’s like your brain didn’t believe your eyes the first time they saw him the other day, and now that he is right in front of you, it can take the time to fully process what is happening. Jimin is sitting across from you in his favorite booth, dressed handsomely and eyeing you with that adorable pink tint on his cheeks.

“Hi, (Y/n)!”

“Hi.”

“I’m glad you could make it!” Jimin greets, never looking away from your face. You are the one who breaks eye contact first, thinking quickly of something to say to him.

“Yeah, sorry I‘m a little late.” You answer sheepishly, not mentioning how you came twenty minutes early but sat in the car giving yourself a pep talk and working up the nerve to go inside for twenty-five. The last time you sat in this spot you got lost staring straight ahead of you for hours, trying to imagine how he would look if he were there with you. And now you have exactly what you wished for, his empty seat filled so you no longer have to stare at a wall. It’s hard to grasp completely. This whole thing feels surreal and you’re waiting for the moment that you wake up from this dream and go back to the miserable life you had before today. “But I’m glad you could make it, too. I imagine you’ve been pretty busy these past few days?”

“Not really, no.” He breathes a laugh, finally looking away from you. “I spent most of my time catching up with my family at home. I had to move back in with my parents since I don’t have anywhere else to stay.” A lump forms in your throat when you think of the cold side of your bed that he used to warm. “I met with Taehyung and Jungkook this morning, though. It’s the first time I’ve been outside since I got back.”

“How did it go?” You know very little of their encounter and you’re curious about how much he remembers about them, if anything at all. Surely he doesn’t know them either, right? It’s terrible, but you almost hope that’s the case. You don’t want to be the only person he’s forgotten about.

“I think it went well! I remembered them,” Damn. “But I guess I forgot a lot of important things about them.” Oh?

“Like what?”

“Well, for starters, I don’t remember being that close to Taehyung.”

“What?!” You almost laugh, not expecting him to say something like that. Hearing him say that is almost as ridiculous as if he said he owned a 6-legged pet dragon. “Taehyung? Your best friend in the whole entire world?”

He laughs at this, eyes scrunching in that cute way that you adore so much. Seeing it again is enough to make you temporarily forget what you were complaining about. “It’s funny, he said the exact same thing.”

“Of course he did, that’s the title you gave him in high school. ‘Kim Taehyung, My Best Friend in the Whole Entire World™’.” That’s how Jimin had introduced you to him all those years ago and you thought it was the cutest thing ever. “What do you mean you didn’t know you were that close? What do you remember?” Jimin had previously told you that asking about what he remembers isn’t at all offensive and that he welcomes hearing stories of his past, so you don’t hold back.

“I remember being really shy in high school my first year, and he was one of the first people to talk to me. And I remember that he was my friend, but they told me that we were practically attached at the hip and that I was better friends with him than I was with Jungkook.” He seems perplexed at this, working it out in his head, and you feel like they didn’t explain this well enough to him.

“It’s true.” You nod.

“But, Jungkook is like my little brother, I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Yes, Jungkook is like family to you, but Taehyung is your soulmate. He helped you through some really tough times in high school and you guys bonded like glue after that. Plus, it’s been over 10 years, so you’ve only gotten closer over time.” You smile, thinking back to how fondly Jimin first spoke of Taehyung after you first met him. You’re simply repeating his own words back to him, but he hangs onto everything you say.

He sighs. “He seemed pretty hurt when he realized I didn’t remember any of that. I felt terrible. They said it’s been almost 14 years since the last thing I remember. I’m missing so many important memories, it’s like I lost most of my life.” The sag of his shoulders falls deeper, darkness casting over his soft features. You’re both 28 now, so if he’s forgotten 14 years then he literally has missed half of his life. You can’t even begin to comprehend what it would be like to have your memories of your entire teenage and young adult life up until this point vanish. It must be scary for him.

“Can you-“ You start gently, reading his expression. He looks up at you innocently. “Could you maybe tell me about how you lost your memory?” Afraid that your question might be too invasive too soon, you quickly reassure him. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable, we could talk about it another day if you need time to-“

“No, it’s okay,” Now he’s the one reassuring you, and your cheeks flame at your awkwardness. You’ve never really been this nervous around him, this is new for you. “I’ll tell you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not too upsetting for me or anything. Honestly, not remembering things is worse to think about than the accident.” He laughs as a coping mechanism, but you can sense the underlying pain in him. You want to take his hands, but you hold yourself back. “Three years ago, I was in a plane crash while traveling overseas for work. They think a bird or something flew into one of the engines, and we made a crash landing somewhere off course. Apparently, I was one of the few people still alive when they found us, and I was in pretty bad shape. The nearest hospital was almost 80 miles away from the crash site and I flatlined 2 times on the helicopter ride there— or so I’ve been told— and once we reached the hospital, I had to go in immediately for surgery. The trauma to my head was so bad that my brain started to swell, and the doctors think that’s what caused the memory lost. But, they got it under control and I went through 3 more surgeries before I was completely stable. Afterwards, I was in a coma for a year.”

You gasp, images flashing through your mind of him laying in a hospital bed in a foreign country, all alone. And while he was suffering through this, you were at home completely unaware of his suffering as you wallowed in your own. You remember the night before he left, that odd feeling in your gut when you asked him if he could skip this trip and stay home with you instead. He’d laughed at your cuteness, kissing you until your nerves were eased, reassuring you that the worst wouldn’t happen. And even when your fears had become a reality, you did nothing to look for him, never thinking of the “what if’s” that might have lead you to be reunited with him sooner. The way he simply rattles all of this information off so quickly only adds to your shock, he must’ve had to explain this many times already.

“Don’t give me that look, the coma wasn’t too bad. It went by in a flash.” He jokes to lighten the mood, but you can’t even force a fake smile to offer him. “Since everything was destroyed in the crash, they had no way of identifying me; plus, my face was horribly bruised and disfigured, so they couldn’t use photo recognition. I know you’re probably thinking that you wish you could have been there for me, but trust me, I saw the pictures and I did not look pretty.”

You want to tell him that you wouldn’t have cared what he looked like if it mean you got to see him alive, but your mouth won’t move. You wish you could tell him the guilt you feel, but you can’t. Because that would raise too many questions from him that you swore you wouldn’t answer just yet.

“Anyway, when I woke up, I couldn’t really remember much of anything. Aside from being generally disoriented, they were speaking a language I couldn’t understand, so I didn’t know the true extent of my injuries or how long I’d been out. By the time they finally got someone who could translate, I was hysterical, trying to get out of bed and yelling about going home to see someone who was waiting for me.” At this your heart leaps. Could he have been talking about you? Were you the first person he thought about after waking up? You hope so, but since you’ll never know for sure, you just imagine that you were. “I had my memories for about two days while I threw tantrums— this I remember clearly. Not my memories, obviously, but the fits I threw. I refused to rest and fought the nurses who tried to help me with what little strength I had. I think I was mostly angry that I couldn’t do anything on my own. Maybe my tantrums are what caused this... I don’t know.” He looks down at the table for a moment, regathering his thoughts. “After those two days, I settled down considerably and forgot most of my identity. It took another week before I could remember myself again, and that’s when the doctors did tests. They diagnosed me with retrograde amnesia and determined that I lost about 10 years of my memory, but since some of my memories came back during that week, they were hopeful that everything would be back in a few months. But, after 2 years of mental training and physical therapy, I’m still stuck like this.”

It’s here that you lose your cool, tears falling from your burning eyes as you stare woefully at him. You wipe them away but they keep coming, so you apologize and turn your face from him to control the leakage. He questions this, tilting his head in confusion because of your reaction.

“It’s just,” You choke out, taking a shaky breath before meeting his eyes again. “I thought you were dead for 3 years. I went through all 5 stages of grief. We had a memorial service for you last year after everyone finally came to terms with your “death”, but no one knew what you had to go through all by yourself. You were alive the whole time and went through so many struggles, and we were over here forcing ourselves to move on with our lives.” The quiver of your lips after your tears slow gives away your guilt, and you are surprised by how easily he can still read you.

“Don’t feel guilty, there’s no way you could have known.” His hand lifts off the table slightly, as though to reach for yours, but it pauses and instead moves to grab a napkin to hand to you.

“How did you manage to get back home?” You finally ask once you wipe your eyes.

“I still remember where I live and some of my parents’ contact information, so as soon as I was well enough, I contacted them. They didn’t believe it was me at first, I guess because everyone thought I was dead, so I had to send them some pictures to fully convince them. It took them 2 days to respond, but when they did, they had booked me a flight home and sent my ticket. That’s how I ended up here.”

“And you remember all of them?” The answer is obviously yes, but you think it’s still an appropriate question.

“Yeah, mostly.” He grins. “My younger brother is an adult now and it felt a little weird talking to him, admittedly.” You chuckle with him. “Overall, my “death” seemed to bring everyone together, I was surprised to find everyone getting along so well.”

“Or, that could have been an act so they don’t stress you out on your first days back home.” You suggest playfully, sharing your first full laugh with him in what feels like forever. He seems comfortable talking to you, and you wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place.

“That’s also a possibility.” He smiles. “But enough about me, we came here so I can get to know more about you. And no more surface level stuff, I want to know who you really are.” Oh, that’s why.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” You try to keep your voice steady so your sudden uneasiness remains undetectable. The last thing you needed was for him to think you were hiding something.

“Firstly, what was our relationship?” He says the words cautiously, as if testing them out, imploring gaze piercing your heart. Omit. Omit. Omit.

“We... we dated.” You leave it at that for now.

“Oh.” He seems… surprised? Bordering relieved. “I figured. How long were we together?”

Nonono, he’s going in the wrong direction. How can you avoid telling him the truth when he asks such a direct question? You don’t want him to know too much just yet, but you can’t keep being so vague. “We dated for a few years.”

“How many years?”

“Four.” That is the truth. He doesn’t need to know any more than that. Yet.

“That’s-“ His face falls slightly and you watch him closely. “That’s a long time.” Just as you had predicted, Jimin feels guilty and embarrassed. He looks sadder about this than he did about the Taehyung ordeal, probably because he could at least remember Tae a little, but he has no idea who you are. And you probably know everything about him. Well, this is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. “I’m sorry, now I feel like an asshole.”

“No, it’s not your fault!” You say maybe a little too excitedly. “None of this is your fault.”

“I know, but I still feel bad.” He frowns. “...At least I feel a little better about how I felt when I first saw you, though.” His face colors and yours lifts with interest. “When I first met you the other day,” You frown internally. “I couldn’t believe you were talking to me. I’m sorry if I looked frozen, but you have to understand, it’s a little intimidating to have someone as beautiful as you randomly walk up to me on the street— and then touch my face and hug me.”

“Oh my gosh,” You hide your face in your hands, embarrassed by your impulsive decision the other day and because your insides are melting from his simple confession. Hearing Jimin call you beautiful is something you hadn’t expected to hear today and you were completely unprepared to be this flustered. He giggles at your reaction, not even trying to hide his own blush. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Neither was I. I didn’t mean to come off so rude when I said I didn’t know who you were, I just didn’t know how else to break the news.”

“Stop apologizing to me, bab-“ You barely catch yourself before you let the word slip, replacing it with a sharp inhale. He doesn’t catch it. “Nothing you’ve done is wrong, I’m just glad you’re back, memory or not.”

They say the eyes are the windows to a person’s soul. Well, you hope he can see yours. You stare into each other’s eyes for a long time in silence, connecting wordlessly without realizing it. You don’t know what swims in your eyes, but you see comfort swimming in his.

“It’s really hard to explain, but you’re so easy to talk to. You’re... comfortable. Not you, but you make me comfortable.” He’s said this before, these exact words, and it stops you in your tracks. Like déjà vu, you relive this moment from your first date, and it almost makes you miss the rest of what he’s saying. “I’m nervous to talk to you because my heart keeps doing flips, yet at the same time, I’m the most relaxed I’ve been in days. You’re so familiar to me but I can’t remember. It’s so frustrating, like having a word on the tip of your tongue but you just can’t get to it.” His hand threads through his hair in that habit of his, and you let the action bring you to the present.

You want to tell him that he doesn’t need to remember you, that it’s okay if he doesn’t and that you won’t be hurt by it— and this is true— but you really hope that he does remember something. Feeling familiar is a good sign, right? Although you hate getting your hopes up, you allow it just this once.

“Maybe your memories are still there? They might just be hiding somewhere deep in your brain and you have to work to find them?” Jimin finds the look in your eyes cute when you say this, bright and positive, something else that feels oh-so-familiar.

“Maybe...” He chews on his lip as if he were in deep thought, the action concealing how he takes the time to once again look you over. You are quite beautiful, he wonders how he got you originally, and if you were still dating when he had his accident. But those are questions he hasn’t worked up the nerve to ask yet, so he saves them for later.

“Do you think you’ll remember something if we spend more time together? I could show you around town if that will help?”

“Is that your way of asking me on a date?” He asks smugly, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth teasingly. It gets a reaction out of you and you smile brighter than he’s seen, rolling your eyes because that wasn’t your original intention but you guess he’s right.

“Depends. Is your answer ‘yes’?”

“I guess...” He tries to play it cool, but his heart is doing somersaults in his chest, so much so that he has to look away from you for a bit to calm himself. He hasn’t felt this much excitement since he was finally able to walk on his own in physical therapy.

“Something you might learn about me is that I can be quite flirty.” You wink, earning a giggle from him. You aren’t nearly as flirty as he is, however, and you’re almost eager to find out if that part of him is still the same.

“That’s great and all, but it’s still surface level. I want to know more than just one sentence summaries of you.” His head tilts to the side and you flounder a bit, trying to think of something to say.

“I don’t know what to say about myself.” You finally relent, scratching the back of your head.

“Hm. How about you tell me some stories? They don’t have to be about anything exciting, I just want to know what kind of person you are and what experiences you’ve had.” Of all the stories you have readily available in the forefront of your mind, Jimin is in 90% of them. Picking through the assortment, you choose one that involves the two of you, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Mina.

And that’s how the second part of your date(?) goes. The stories flow from you like a free tap at a bar, and Jimin enjoys every second of it. You order some food when your stomachs start growling, and you’re pleased to know that he has the same taste as before, showing interest in his usual order as he looks over the menu for the “first time”, and you snicker when he takes his first bite and you see his mind get blown all over again. This feeling, the comfort he was talking about earlier, it takes over the atmosphere and it almost feels normal again. For at least a few hours, you get to be the person you once were a long time ago: cheerful, bubbly, and full of enthusiasm. The residual gloom you’ve felt for the past 3 years seems to dissipate into thin air.

——

You have a headache. It pounds at your temples like a bass drum in a marching band, throbbing in time with your heart. Popping two aspirin, you drag your feet through your home with a yawn and click on the stove to start breakfast.

Saturday was amazing. It far exceeded your expectations in every aspect, mainly because you didn’t expect for it to be so easy to talk to Jimin. For some reason, you thought he would be different, that it would be awkward to talk about yourself because you felt that he already knew all of it. But no. He’s exactly the same, and it was almost refreshing to start over like that. You’d never forget anything about him, but getting to ease back into things was definitely helpful.

But that’s precisely the problem. What does “things” entail? Did you expect to get back together with him? Was that your intention? As you had predicted, your feelings have not changed for him, but it most likely will not be the same for him. Plus, you have another person to worry about, the man that you promised to go on a date with today, Jaebeom. He had been so sweet when you apologized for not messaging him all weekend, having almost completely forgotten about him after spending time with Jimin. You were texting Jimin practically nonstop to continue whatever you didn’t get to finish saying in person, and the other man never crossed your mind during that time. When you finally got back to him on Sunday night, you agreed to go out with him on Wednesday, thinking you would have at least some of your feelings figured out by then.

You were wrong.

It’s Wednesday and nothing has been figured out or resolved, and it’s giving you a headache from how much you’ve been thinking about it. Jaebeom doesn’t even know you’re having second thoughts about him yet and it only makes you feel worse. As far as he knows, he is the only person you’ve shown interest in in several years, and as far as he can tell, you’re pretty into him. Taking it slow doesn’t seem to bother him one bit, and you’re beginning to wonder just how much he actually likes you. Dragging this out wouldn’t be fair to him, but you aren’t really in the position to cut him off just yet because you have no idea what you want to do. He is an option— a very good option— but could you keep seeing him while you’re still figuring out what’s going to happen with you and Jimin? That might be awkward for both parties. Knowing you, you won’t be able to keep them from knowing about each other for long, but neither of them are your boyfriend at the moment, so it’s okay, right? You need time to decide what will happen between you and Jimin, but the question is, will Jaebeom be willing to wait for you? Another hard pound in your skull has you wincing. Maybe things will be a little easier to work through once you see him.

Jaebeom decided on an outdoor date this time, choosing a park to walk around with you. Exercise always clears your head, so you were excited, but that excitement wanes when you are hit with a flashback. It must be the smell of the trees that has you leaping back in time to when Jimin took you on a walk through a trail nearby one sunny afternoon, and you shared your first kiss by the creek under the cover of the leaves. You shake away the flash of heat that washes over you, stretching your calf muscles against the curb as Jaebeom locks the car.

“Are you going to wear that jacket? You might get pretty warm once we start walking.” You look down at yourself at his question, thinking about it for a moment. “We’re here for exercise, this won’t be a walk in the park.” He grins at his own joke and you click your tongue, unable to help the chuckle that leaves your lips.

“This is, in fact, a walk in the park but I guess you’re right.” You throw the jacket into his back seat before he locks the door again and you head out on your path.

The material of your leggings shields you from the small bugs that jump up from the grass with each of your steps. The morning dew has not yet evaporated, wetting the toes of your tennis shoes on your short walk to the start of the path. For the first few minutes the only sound is the crunch of dry dirt beneath your feet and the birds chirping in the trees around you. You tell yourself that it isn’t uncomfortable, but your mind is racing in an attempt to produce something interesting to talk about. Jaebeom doesn’t seem bothered by the quiet, taking a deep breath of the fresh air with a smile on his face as he sets a fast walking pace. It’s almost 10 minutes in before your first words are exchanged. It starts as small talk, comments about the surrounding nature shifting into deeper conversations about anything that comes to mind after the ice is broken.

Unlike with Jimin, Jaebeom keeps you on your toes. Yes, he is easy to talk to and knows how to hold your interest, but you never get the chance to get completely relaxed around him. He throws in curveballs that make you flush and stutter around your responses, changes topics quickly and asks questions you’ve never even thought of before. He doesn’t take himself too seriously and has the humor of a 45 year old dad, throwing in jokes when you least expect it. He’s also very intelligent (not that Jimin isn’t just as smart), rattling off facts about the animals or plants you spot as you trek deeper into the trail. It’s hard to keep up— both conversationally and physically as he maintains his pace with his long legs— but you are thoroughly enjoying yourself. Until you pass this one spot.

“Looks like you can get to the bank of the creek from there.” He points to a narrow clearing through the trees and grass that leads straight to the water that runs beside your walking path. The bank is muddy but the water is somewhat clear, rushing over smooth rocks and stones.

Just seeing the area reignites something within you. That date with Jimin where he pulled you off the path and through the narrow clearing to the water. He taught you how to skip rocks and laughed when you threw the first stone straight down and it splashed back up into your face. You sat on the dry part of the bank where the grass grew and looked up at the clouds together, somehow ending up with your faces just a centimeter apart, and it was there that you kissed for the first time. You don’t even remember who leaned in first, just that you never wanted it to end, and when it did you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The feeling lingers on your lips even still.

Attempting to avert your attention from the place that now gets further behind you as you stride on, you stare at Jaebeom. He’s speaking and even though you are literally watching his mouth form the words, you don’t catch a single thing he’s saying. It’s your unfocused staring that causes you to trip, your foot skidding and rolling over a loose rock, the side of your foot making contact with the ground instead of your sole. Your left leg catches your weight, but the moment you place your right foot down again, pain shoots up your leg. You must have made a noise because your date snaps his head toward you and in an instant he’s reaching out to balance you as you hop on your good foot.

“Did you roll your ankle?” He asks as he helps you over to a nearby bench. Concern laces his voice and covers his face, and you suddenly feel bad. You nod quietly. “Let me look at it.” Kneeling in front of you, Jaebeom gingerly takes your foot in his hand, inspecting it and pushing lightly around your ankle. When you wince he apologizes, moving on to pushing at the bottom of your foot with the palm of his hand to check it’s motion.

“You seem to know a little bit of everything, don’t tell me you’re a doctor too?” You grin, your face twitching when he turns your ankle to the side. He nods thoughtfully at your reaction before answering.

“I used to coach on some recreational sports teams for kids, I’ve seen my fair share of injuries.” He places your foot back on the ground softly and sighs. “I don’t think it’s sprained. Though, I’m not at all qualified to make that diagnosis, so you should probably get it checked out by someone when we get back.”

“Eh, I don’t think I need to, it isn’t that bad.” You shrug, testing out its mobility from your seat. He looks unsure.

“Can you walk back, or do you need me to carry you?”

“We’re pretty far out, do you think you’d be able to carry me that far?” It isn’t an insult, this he knows, but he still chooses to tease you about it.

“You don’t think I can?” He challenges, albeit playfully, standing boldly in front of you. A laugh bubbles from your throat as you stand as well.

“I never said that. I was asking a question.”

“We won’t know unless we find out. Hop on.” Jaebeom doesn’t give you time to reject his offer before he’s crouching down and grabbing you behind the knees, making you fall onto his back with a surprised yelp and instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. Once he stands, he adjusts you with a hop.

“Good?” He smiles at your pout.

“Good.” You respond, rolling your eyes when he starts to walk.

Seeing from this perspective up high, you get the chance to look back down at the bank when you pass it again, biting the inside of your cheek in thought. Those times you had with Jimin feel like a lifetime ago, yet you can envision them so clearly. You feel horrible for thinking about this while on the back of another man. Jaebeom is so caring and sweet, checking in with you to make sure you are comfortable and keeping your spirits up with corny jokes that make you laugh out loud. You’re embarrassed by the looks people give the two of you when you pass them, but he seems proud. He’s a perfect match for you, someone you could move forward with and welcome into your future, but you keep finding yourself stuck in the past. Unable to let go of the memories. You can’t ignore the butterflies you feel, however, whenever Jaebeom slips sly compliments into his commentary or whenever you feel his muscles flex when he readjusts you. Your heart is as fickle as a seesaw.

You’re sure he’s dead set on proving to you that he can walk the whole way, but you can tell he’s fatigued by his heavy panting and increased sweating. “You can put me down now, I think I can walk the rest of the way.”

“No, we’re not that far, I can make it.” He huffs, eyes trained straight ahead.

“Jaebeom, really, I can walk. My ankle doesn’t even hurt that bad anymore, see.” To show him, you stick your leg out and move your ankle around in all directions, the pain now dull enough to ignore. He stops, sighs, and places you down begrudgingly.

“Okay, but at least let me help you.” As soon as he offers his arm to you, you take it, leaning some of your weight on him since he’s too tall for you to sling your arm across his shoulders. You hobble awkwardly for a few steps before evening out, trying not to limp as much as possible so you don’t accidentally hurt the other leg. Jaebeom talks the rest of the way back to the car and it’s an amazing distraction, and before you know it he’s unlocking the door and helping you inside before sliding into the driver’s seat next to you.

He pauses once the key is in the ignition, hesitating. There’s an apologetic look on his face when he turns to you, as if he had done something wrong. You question it.

“What’s with the sad look?”

“I just feel bad that you got hurt on our date. I wanted to do something different this time, but it backfired.” He sighs, glancing down at your leg.

“Don’t feel bad, it’s my fault for being clumsy.” And for thinking about someone else while on a date with you, You think. “Since we had to cut our walk short, do you want to hang at my place for a while?” For some reason, you’re blushing. The heat on your cheeks rises as you bite your lip, hoping your offer didn’t come off the wrong way. He seems surprised, searching your eyes to confirm that you are serious, before a wide smile finds its way to his lips.

“I would love to.” His guilt is resolved quickly as he turns the key to start up his car.

A gust of cool air blows in your face when you open the front door of your house, the air conditioning on blast to dispel the rising temperatures outside. You hold the door for Jaebeom and shut it behind him, watching as he takes in your decor. This is the first time he’s actually been inside your home. It feels odd to let a man into your living space, but at the same time, it’s nice to have the space filled by someone other than yourself. Both of your shoes are left at the door as you walk deeper into the cool building, the removal of your shoe making the heat of your swollen foot more noticeable.

“This place is pretty big for just you.” He comments, following you into the kitchen. You spare him a glance as your hand reaches for the cold metal of your refrigerator door, pulling the handle and retrieving two water bottles.

“That’s because it wasn’t always just me.” You toss a bottle in his direction before opening the freezer for an ice pack.

“Uh-oh. Do I sense a tragic backstory coming?” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows. But when he sees the semi-serious look on your face, the humor drops from his. “Wait, really?”

You didn’t expect to tell him about this just yet, especially because you haven’t fully figured out what Jimin’s role in your life would be moving forward. There’s no reason to lie to him about it, the past is in the past and the facts are what they are, you just hope it doesn’t make things uncomfortable between you. Jaebeom is curious now, waiting for you to explain and giving you all the time you need to prepare yourself. You decide to take this time to situate yourself on the couch in your living room. Sitting sideways on the cushions, you lay your injured leg in front of you and place the ice pack onto the throbbing side of your foot.

“You shouldn’t apply cold to your bare skin,” He advises, returning to your kitchen briefly and bringing back a paper towel to wrap the pack in. “Also, it would help to elevate it to reduce the swelling.” In an instant, he is maneuvering your legs to sit under them, placing a pillow on his lap before gently resting your foot atop it. The ice sits on the swollen part of your ankle, and you sigh at the much more bearable cold.

“Thank you.” A shy smile isn’t enough to show how grateful you are for his help. He doesn’t ask you again, but you know his earlier inquiry still lingers in the air around you, so you decide to face it head on. “I bought this house with someone else about 4 years ago.”

“An ex?”

You look down, unsure of how to answer that. Was Jimin your ex? You choose to avoid his question. “We lived together for about a year before he was in a plane crash and disappeared. I decided to keep living here because I didn’t feel like moving again, so that’s why I’m still here.”

“He was in a plane crash? That’s horrible! Did they ever find his body?” You almost laugh at this, cracking a smirk that you couldn’t hide fast enough. It’s funny in an ironic way, because who the hell would have expected him to return from the dead after 3 years? That’s a plot twist you’ve only seen in movies, and it’s still hard to wrap your mind around.

“Actually, he isn’t dead. He just returned to our town last week.” The look on Jaebeom’s face is priceless, and you would laugh at that too if it wasn’t for the slight disappointment in his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t ever wish for anyone to be dead, but there’s an underlying worry that you won’t be able to reassure out of him. “He has amnesia, so he doesn’t remember me at all, so I met with him on Saturday to reintroduce myself. Though, it was mostly just to convince myself that he was really alive.” You confess.

“Is that where you were this weekend?” Not an ounce of jealousy or bitterness is in his voice. For that, you are thankful.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t respond to you earlier, I was going through some things.” You look away from him again in embarrassment, but from what, you don’t know. This shouldn’t be embarrassing. He is one of the most understanding and forgiving people you have ever met, and this is a primary example of that.

“I told you, it’s fine. We’re both adults, it’s okay if you can’t respond to a text for a few days because something important came up. If I was in your place, I would do the same thing.” He smiles. “How did it go?”

The question catches you off guard. You didn’t think he would want to hear about it, but you’re glad he’s extended an invitation for you to talk about it because you haven’t gotten the chance to yet. Well, Joy and Mina have been badgering you for details over text all week, but you weren’t able to communicate your true feelings in writing. And although he might not be the best person to talk to about this topic, you’re dying to get some things off your chest.

“It went well, I think. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it turned out okay. Have you ever met someone who has amnesia?” He shakes his head. “It’s the weirdest feeling ever. It’s like when you accidentally mistake someone for someone else, so you go up to them and start a conversation like you’re close friends, and then that person looks at you funny and breaks the news that they aren’t who you think they are and that they, in fact, have never even met you before. But the weird part is that you do know them, they just don’t know you.”

“I couldn’t imagine what that must be like.” It looks like he’s actually trying to envision himself in that situation, and you feel your chest warm up. When you open your mouth to speak again, he glances at the clock and removes the ice pack from your leg, replacing it with his hand, rubbing over the frigid flesh lightly. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but is it okay if I massage this a bit? It’ll help it heal.” Your mouth parts dumbly at the way his fingers dance over you, but you pull yourself together enough to nod. “Please, continue.”

“A-Anyway, he could barely remember his own best friend, so I spent most of the time telling him stories about them and things we all experienced together with our other friends.” Your voice starts again softly, still watching his hands. “It was an odd mix of emotions. I could finally reminisce old times with someone, but I hated that he didn’t share the same nostalgic feeling that I had when I thought back to those days.”

“Did you talk to him about your relationship?” Is his next inquiry, causing your nose to wrinkle.

“Not completely...” You scratch at the back of your neck when he looks at you. “I didn’t want to overload him with information on the first day, I figured I should take it slow.” Take it slow. That’s the exact same thing you had told Jaebeom when you first started seeing each other. It’s what you keep reminding him of whenever he gets too close or comfortable. You can tell the words strike something within him by the way his mouth sets in a frown for a split second before bouncing back to its neutral line. Did he think you meant romantically? That’s not at all what you intended, but it could be interpreted that way. He doesn’t comment on it, so you quickly try to explain. “I mean, eventually I will tell him, but we’re both on different paths now so I don’t feel the need to rush into telling him the details.”

You swallow as his fingers feel at the muscles running along the side of your leg, the light pressure and warmth of his hand sending a tingle through you that you haven’t felt in a while. It’s quiet for a beat, both your eyes trained on your leg as he works.

“Do you think he’ll ever get his memories back?” He looks at you deeply, the question genuine, and you can’t determine a motive for it except that he’s trying to determine if he should consider Jimin competition or not.

“I’m not sure.”

“Do you want him to get his memories back?” This one’s a bit trickier, and you force out an answer before you give yourself time to think about it.

“Yes and no. I want him to remember out of sympathy because he’s missing memories from half of his life, and that must be terrible— especially since the past decade of our lives were where we defined our identities and personalities. But at the same time, I don’t want him to remember because it might complicate things. I want closure so I can move on, possibly with you.” It’s a lot easier to say this when Jimin isn’t here, sitting in front of you. It’s easier to spew this nonsense to appease the man in front of you for now while you try to determine whether or not what you’ve just said is true. Honestly, you have no idea if you’ll be able to move on once you get used to having Jimin around again. You don’t know if you’ll even want to move on if he somehow gets his memories back or falls in love with you again. Because the truth is that you’re still in love with him and you never stopped loving him, that’s the reason your life has been a living Hell up until last week, and it will most likely take an incredible amount of willpower and strength to ignore those feelings the closer you get to Jimin. But in this moment, moving on seems like a very possible goal.

Jaebeom is pleased with your response, breaking into a smile at the implication of you having a relationship with him in the future. “Closure.” He repeats, tasting the word. “Is that why you told me you were emotionally unavailable when I first asked you out? Because of him?”

“Yes.” Not that it was his fault. You find yourself defending Jimin in your head, rolling your eyes at yourself mentally.

“I think closure will be good for you. Not everyone gets to see their lost loved ones again and heal their trauma, you should take advantage of this. Plus, this is the happiest I’ve seen you since we first met,” Soft eyes land on you as he looks you over and chills travel your body with his gaze.

“Really?” You hadn’t noticed your change in mood over the past few days because of the tornado of emotions inside your head, but he’s right. You can safely say that since seeing Jimin this weekend, you’ve had more than a few good days, something you haven’t experienced since before he went missing.

“Yeah, and I must say, happy looks good on you. I thought you were beautiful before, but now you’re absolutely stunning with the extra brightness in your attitude. You look... alive.” It might be a weird compliment for some, but hearing him say that you look livelier than before is touching. Most of the time, you have to force yourself to look that way, remind yourself to smile at people that you actually want to see, force energy into your deadpanned words when speaking. You’ve tried makeup and brighter clothes to offset the gloominess in your eyes and heart, but clearly that hasn’t worked. To hear him say that you look happy again— like your old self that he never knew— without trying, is beyond uplifting. His more obvious compliment is not lost on you either. “I know you haven’t been happy lately and that you need time to work out everything with him, but I would like to try and fill that hole that he left in you and make you happy in my own way. I really like you, (Y/n), and I want to be here for you.”

You blush, feeling heat rise up your chest and face at the attention he’s giving you now. His hands continue to rub at your leg, moving higher until he reaches your knee, and goosebumps break out on your skin from the contact. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched by someone, even in a non-sexual context, and just the feeling of his hand creeping up your leg is enough to wind you up. He notices instantly and hides his smirk. His eyes stare into yours in an attempt to read you, frozen until you make the first move or push his hand away. When it becomes clear that you are also waiting for him to do something, he slides his hand back down to your foot again, pressing his fingers into your muscle gently on the way down, and you take in a sharp inhale.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt?” He says quickly, removing his hand from you in fear that his actions have hurt you, but instead of replying you move your body until you are kneeling right next to him on the couch. Your faces are a breath away as you look at each other. What were you about to do?

For some reason, you felt the urge to kiss him. After just talking about Jimin and your unresolved trauma, your brain felt that the next logical step was to kiss Jaebeom. Maybe it’s because you have opened up to him in a way that hasn’t happened between you before. Or maybe it’s because he confessed his feelings in words to you. He is the first man who has shown genuine care for you in years and you don’t know what to do with that. You’ve just told him the cause of your brokenness and he didn’t run away, so maybe that’s why your heart is pounding so hard as you blink back at him. Whatever it is, this probably isn’t the best idea. You do it anyway.

Just before he can open his mouth to say something, you close the space between you, connecting your lips in one swift move. He responds gracefully, however, his hands ghosting your back with uncertainty until you shift to straddle his lap. You hate how you fumble at first like it’s your first time, nearly falling over in your eagerness to sit atop him. His lips feel so good on you that you almost moan once you fall into rhythm, your disposition no longer shy as you place your hands on his shoulders and deepen the kiss. Now, his hands find their way to your waist, squeezing with affection and reverence, surely feeling lucky that you have finally let down a wall and allowed him to hold you like this. He uses this as an opportunity to explore your midsection, mindful of your chest because that’s a boundary you haven’t given him consent to cross yet, but his touch still ignites a burning in your lower stomach. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, asking for entrance before snaking it’s way in, and your fingers tighten on the fabric of his shirt as you give in to the sensations of him.

At some point, his hands reach your ass, and once you arch into him, he pulls you closer. Just a little higher on his lap, but you take it upon yourself to scoot the rest of the way up until you sit directly above his bulge. You feel the way he gasps into your mouth, and just when your hips begin to roll he pulls away. He pushes your hips back just far enough so you can’t feel how he’s starting to harden, and your mind starts to clear instantly.

“We should... take it slow.” He pants, blinking a few times to clear his own head.

The reminder of your own words is what makes you stop and think. What the hell were you doing? This is by far the most impulsive thing you have done in a long while, yet you can’t say that it didn’t feel good not to overthink. You’ll leave that for later, but for now, you won’t let him see how badly you’ve just messed up. It’ll only make him feel bad.

“Y-Yeah, I should slow down.” You slouch a little, still on his lap with your hands on his broad shoulders. He’s an amazing kisser, you almost lose your train of thought just looking at his lips again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He reassures, pushing a flyaway strand of hair back up to your ponytail. “Let’s take baby steps. We just had an emotionally vulnerable conversation, I don’t think now is the time to take leaps and bounds into anything. I wouldn’t want you doing something you aren’t ready for. Or something you’ll regret.”

But it’s too late for that. You don’t know if you regret kissing him, but that definitely wasn’t the right move. All it’s really done is confuse you further about your feelings because you really like him, but until you decide what you want to happen in regards to your relationship with Jimin, it wouldn’t be smart to lead him on into anything that you aren’t willing to finish. The last thing you want is to give Jaebeom a false sense of the situation, to think that he has your heart exclusively when you are actually torn between two men. What you’ve actually done is reassure him of that false hope by kissing him and losing your self control, which is the opposite of what you should have done.

“Thank you,” You sigh, finally moving off of him. “For not taking advantage of me. You really are a great guy.”

You aren’t doing anything, but Jaebeom soon finds that he continues to harden in his pants the longer he stares at you, so, reluctantly, he stands. You try to ignore the way he adjusts himself in his pants, a blush cloaking both of your faces. “I’m just trying to be a decent person,” He scratches his head bashfully. “I think I should go.”

You nod as you walk him to the door, the soreness of your ankle just a little bit less than it was before. Slipping on his shoes, he stands with his hand on the doorknob.

“Sorry about our date.” He motions to your foot and you shake your head.

“No, I had fun, don’t apologize.”

“Really?” You hum an assurance. Hope returns to his eyes and you feel your heart flutter. When you think about it later, you know you’ll hate yourself for complicating things by kissing him, but right now you want nothing more than to do it again. This could be a blossoming new romance for you, and it’s frightening. As he stands here, you try to convince yourself that you’re ready for it. “I had a good time, too. But I still want to do better for our next date, so I have some planning to do. I’ll text you!”

Turning the knob, he opens the front door, but pauses before stepping out. You realize after a second that he’s waiting for a goodbye from you. Should you kiss him on the cheek like usual? Or should you give him a real kiss this time? You don’t know if you’ll be able to stop yourself again if you kiss him fully again, so you settle for a small peck to his lips, pulling away far too quickly and sending him on his way. You barely wait for his car to pull out of your driveway before you slam the door shut, letting your forehead rest on the wood before walking back into your living room.

——

Foggy blue streaks through your curtains in typical sleepy morning fashion. But you’re wide awake, jittery muscles causing you to toss and turn in bed until you sit up and decide to start your day. You pour one cup of coffee, black to shock your system enough to wake you fully, taking the extra time to cook an actual breakfast. It’s bright outside by the time you finish eating, flying through your bathroom routine in record time. The extra time is wasted on picking an outfit, checking the weather multiple times to determine whether or not you should wear the new flowy top you bought last week. You eventually do choose the top but decide to go with a pair of worn jean shorts to look as casual as possible.

No accessories today— well, maybe a bracelet and some earrings. This isn’t a date by any means, but you figure you should still try to look nice today. That velvet box is still tucked in its corner, never going unnoticed but purposely ignored as you check the time on your phone and walk towards the front door.

Jimin insisted that you and Taehyung both show him around your town, stating that he wanted it to feel like the old times you told him about where the three of you would get into all sorts of trouble together. You insisted that he didn’t have to force anything if it made him uncomfortable, but he simply laughed and told you not to worry. And Taehyung insisted on driving. Truth be told, you were nervous to see Taehyung again after the radio silence between the two of you for the past 6 months. Of course there wasn’t any hostility or anything between you, but you weren’t sure how you would feel when you got to see him in person. Trying not to think too hard about it, you’re just about to text said man when the doorbell rings.

With a deep breath you open the door, only to be faced with a broad chest, defined collarbones, and a chiseled jawline. Taehyung always stands too close to people, which is something you’ve complained to him about many times over, and it seems he still hasn’t changed. But it’s… refreshing.

“Hey.” He greets in his deep voice, the familiarity soothing your nerves.

Yeah. That’s right. This is Kim Taehyung, a man you’ve known since senior year of high school, someone you’ve grown close to over the years and have shared many laughs with. The man who treated you like his sister when you finally went official with Jimin and took your side in arguments when his best friend was being unreasonable. The first person you invited to all your gatherings. The person you clung to at the memorial service when you were too weak to stand on your own and crying your heart out. How could you forget? How could you ever be anxious about this reunion?

“Hi, Tae.” You choke out, getting a good look at him once he finally takes a step back. He’s aged a bit since you last saw him, stress having painted lines on his forehead and dimmed the brightness in his eyes just slightly. But he looks healthy, something you’re glad to see. “You ghosted me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t-“ He sighs and you know exactly what he means.

“You promised to keep in touch with me.” Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you try to keep your face as unreadable as his.

“I know.”

“…I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He reaches for a hug that you openly accept and it feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. You’ve always communicated with him like this, blunt and straightforward, completely honest with each other. He’s the type of person that brings that out of people, which is one of the reasons Jimin chose him as his best friend, but sometimes you find yourself saying to him things you didn’t even know you were thinking. And it isn’t until you say it out loud that you realize how you actually feel— that you did miss him. Neither of you had expected to lose another friend on top of losing Jimin, and you guess you ignored that pain until now.

“You and I are friends too, so don’t go disappearing on me again, okay?” You muffle into his chest, and Taehyung nods as he pulls back from the hug, smiling that boxy grin of his.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do better.” He gives a noncommittal shrug and you can only shake your head at his antics.

“Where’s Jimin?”

“In the car. I told him to give me a minute with you. Thought you’d be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you.” You roll your eyes.

“Well you better get over it because we have a full day ahead of us and no time for pouting.” Intrigued, you tilt your head in curiosity.

“Oh yeah? What do you have planned?”

“Jimin doesn’t remember anything that’s happened in the last 10 years and this place has changed a lot since then. I figured we could give him the tour of everything instead of trying to look for the places he doesn’t remember.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Sheesh, that’s gonna take forever.”

“I know, that’s why I said we have a long day ahead of us! I really want him to get a feel for this place since it must be weird for him to be back and not recognize much of anything. If we can knock this tour out in one day then hopefully he’ll feel a bit more comfortable moving forward and won’t be as confused all the time. Also, he’s really been looking forward to this day with us, so I want to make the most of it.” Taehyung rubs his arm almost bashfully, pulling a smile from you. Despite not being the most outwardly affectionate person, Tae always worries about Jimin and looks out for him; and if seeing Jimin uncomfortable and disoriented in his hometown is hard for you to watch, you can’t imagine how it’s affecting Taehyung.

As soon as you enter the car, you’re met with the beam of sunshine named Park Jimin. He’s almost bouncing with excitement, asking if the two of you made up and gushing about getting to spend time as a trio once again. You guess Tae was right, he really was looking forward to this.

The day goes by in a flash, the three of you starting off at the very edge of town and working your way to the center, and you’re almost surprised by how thought out Tae’s plans for the day are. You feel like a tourist in your own town, like seeing it for the first time in years as he takes you on the scenic route down memory lane. Flashes of your old (well, younger) selves appear throughout the town and neighborhoods that you grew up in, running around, goofing off and enjoying the youth you once basked in together. You see in Taehyung’s eyes that he’s seeing the same thing, but Jimin’s eyes are fresh and new, only vague remembrance in them. Jimin is having so much fun, but the original trio doesn’t feel the same. It’s almost like having 2 and a half people instead of 3, Jimin being physically the same for the most part, but not mentally on the same page as you two.

“What’s that look for?” Taehyung approaches as you both wait for Jimin to buy a snack at a small food stall, the two of you looking on as if watching over your child.

“I don’t know, things just feel different.” You mumble, not really wanting to say it out loud. “It’s hard to reminisce when he doesn’t remember what we’re talking about, and every time I think back, all I feel is sadness. Like that Jimin is gone forever.” You can remember snippets of days you spent exploring the area with you lover, growing deeper bonds with him outside of when Taehyung was there with you, and to think all of that is gone, that you have to start over, is hurting you more than you thought.

“Well, just because he’s starting over doesn’t mean he’s not the same person. He’s still Jimin, not some alien that l took over his body. He’s got the same sense of humor and makes the same jokes he used to, and he’s just as happy to spend time with us as he used to be. So what if he can’t remember, we can start fresh and make new memories instead of trying to relive the old ones.” Pushing off the wall that he was leaning on, Tae turns to face you. The brick still digs into your exposed shoulder as you continue to lean on the worn wall. “Look, even if we can remember those times, they’re never coming back. The past is the past and all we can do is keep living in the present— which means we have to be present for the Jimin that’s here now. We already mourned the old Jimin, the one we made all those memories with, the one that knew us, but this is a chance for us to let him get to know who we are now and to rebuild his image of us and our friendship. The best thing we can do for him is to start over and regain his trust and friendship instead of dwelling on the past. So wipe that look off your face and have fun, dammit!” He doesn’t say the last sentence with any anger and even chuckles afterwards, but you still feel a small ache in your heart. You haven’t been having fun this entire time, you’ve been too busy worrying and being stuck in your head, stuck in the past. Man, Taehyung really knows how to talk some sense into you when he needs to, despite saying nonsense most of the time. “And don’t forget to smile. He went on and on earlier about how nice your smile is, yet you haven’t shown it off once today.”

Jimin returns with his snack just as he says this, the slightly older of the men looking confused by how flustered you now look. The day continues and you take on a new perspective for the second half of the tour.

You watch Jimin the entire time, looking on fondly at his awe and excitement, and you realize that you haven’t truly been able to appreciate where you live in a long time. Everything has been covered in a thick fog since you lost Jimin and you haven’t been truly seeing anything around you. The way he and Taehyung point out the things you haven’t noticed makes you see that there is beauty all around you. There was a time that you hated the monotony of your town, hated how ugly the mix of old and new seemed as everyone moved on around you, forgetting about the one person they had lost. It felt as if they had all wanted to change, renovate, as soon as Jimin disappeared, but now you realize that you were the only one standing still. Even Tae had adopted a new outlook on life, and that is why he is so prepared to handle Jimin as he is now. That speech he gave you resonated, and it’s as if the world has gained its color back, a smile stretching over your lips.

“You have a really pretty smile.” Jimin says to you, smiling sheepishly himself. Tae gives you a look as if to say “told ya so”.

By the end of the day, you feel like you can breathe again. And this feeling carries on into the night, leading to the most restful sleep you’ve had in 3 years.

#Jimin #jimin fluff #I remember

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kingofbodyrolls · 6 months

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nine

🐴Chapter summary: You haven’t talked to Jimin in months— he has been successful in avoiding you since he saw Yoongi kiss you. But when a charity gala forces you together, will you erupt like an active volcano? 🐴Chapter title: Take the Rain Away 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: yelling and curse words 🤭 Jin’s pink slipper is finally here (though it’s not him wielding it lol) 🩴 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 8.2k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

🛑 psa to all you lovely people on the taglist, I’ve seen that some of you aren’t interacting… I’m wondering if you’re still reading or not— do you wish to be removed from the taglist? It’s okay if you don’t like it anymore, I can remove you if you want to 🛑

🐴Now playing 💿 “Take the Rain Away” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: can you tell I wrote this chapter while severely depressed (as I did the previous)? 🥲 But, it was very easy to channel all my feelings into it, so I wrote it in like a day while crying most of the time. But here it is! Also, again I’m sorry. I’m really going through it and dealing with my depression, so I’m sorry if I take longer to reply… I do look at your messages though! I don’t know, life is hard and I’m waiting to get a referral from my doctor… all that shit takes such a freaking long time! But yeah, I’m still struggling, but I’m doing my best to hang in there; bad days and a few good days finally. Thank you all so much for reading and for sticking with the story, tbh there were a few times in the latest chapters where I just wanted to delete it all and stop posting.. But yeah, thank fuck🫂 Also… I really hope you’ll love the next chapter and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in either a comment or a reblog ☀️💦 🐴Author’s note #2: I'm sorry… today I'm feeling extremely emotional and anxious. It’s making me cry and my head is so heavy with a lot of thoughts… I hope you still like the chapter, right now I’m afraid it’s crap, so I’ll go hide (don't mind me, this is 50% my anxiety speaking). See ya on Thursday lovelies!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Take the rain away Take the rain away Give me hope Give me love Make it sweet from above Take the rain away Oh take the rain away Give me praise Give me heart Take the rain away”- ‘Take the Rain Away’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The rain pelts on your windows, a rhythmic symphony against the glass that serves as the melodic backdrop to your dance with the paintbrush. Each stroke elicits a clench in your heart, a poignant harmony with the emotions that escape onto the canvas. Despite a tear finding its way down your cheek, you persist. The canvas becomes a vibrant tapestry, weaving through an array of red hues, from the delicate blush of pink to the profound richness of vermillion. In this intimate dance, you surrender to the guidance of the brush, allowing the strokes to tell a story only your heart understands.

The paintbrush becomes the voice of your unspoken thoughts, an ethereal extension of your mind that guides you through an escape. It whisks you away to an alternate reality, a place where joy and serenity prevail. Yet, as you gaze upon your canvas, the illusion shatters – a mosaic of red tones, a stark reflection of your inner turmoil. You’re aware of the truth it conceals, reluctant to acknowledge the lingering ache for a man who remains silent, a man whose choices have been clear and that choice wasn’t you. But why the heck would he decide to date someone that looks like you?

The baffling revelation still eludes you, a persistent enigma that has gnawed at your thoughts for days since the girls disclosed it. The meaning behind it remains a puzzle, and you find yourself grappling with the uncertainty. There’s an urge to confront Jimin, to seek answers, but the apprehension holds you back.

Instead, you retreat to the solace of your bedroom, losing yourself in the strokes of your paintbrush. Each canvas becomes a testament to your emotional turmoil, saturated in shades of red that echo anger and sadness. The thought of whether anyone would buy these artworks fades into insignificance; the therapeutic process takes precedence, offering a semblance of peace in the midst of your inner storm.

For a solid week, the relentless rain has played its melancholic symphony, a constant companion to your shifting moods. While you don’t inherently despise the rain, its prolonged presence begins to cast a subtle veil of gloom. The weather, once a neutral backdrop, now becomes a weight on your shoulders, a persistent force tugging at the edges of your mind, leaving a trace of subtle melancholy in its wake.

Perhaps a twinge of bitterness creeps in, accompanied by an admission of jealousy as you observe Jungkook becoming a frequent overnight guest. Their shared moments are anything but discreet, the resonance of their love making echoing through the walls. You’ve mastered the art of drowning out those sounds, resorting to nocturnal strolls when needed. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for the same intimacy, but with Jimin.

You sigh, feeling utterly deflated. Life never goes the way to want it to. Why can’t you just have something good happening for once?

In the dead of night, raindrops patter on your skin as you venture out once more for a solitary walk. The rhythmic percussion of raindrops becomes a welcome reprieve, drowning out the less-than-subtle sounds emanating from your sister’s room. Ugh. it’s just great— now you can’t stand people in love anymore! Despite your genuine happiness for your sister and Jungkook, witnessing their affectionate gestures becomes a bitter pill to swallow. The kisses, the embraces, the whispered words—all of it, a poignant reminder of what you yearn for with Jimin.

If only you could have that.

You know that jealousy is a nasty feeling and it leaves you feeling bitter inside.

The rain penetrates your jacket, seeping through to your skin—a subtle reminder of your lack of preparation. Cursing under your breath, you navigate through the yard, each step burdened with the weight of your drenched attire. As you reach one of the paddocks, darkness envelops you, the atmosphere dense and humid, mirroring the warmth and heaviness echoing in your chest. Yet, you yearn for this feeling to dissipate, much like the wishful thought that the rain will cease, allowing the sun to once again cast its hopeful rays upon you.

Lifting your gaze to the sky, the night sky unfolds above you, a vast canvas adorned with innumerable stars shimmering in their cosmic dance. A sigh escapes your lips, a blend of appreciation and melancholy. The celestial display, though undeniably beautiful, carries a bittersweet weight tonight, stirring emotions that twirl like distant constellations in the vast expanse above.

With the rain as your shield, you ponder whether it’s safe to return inside again or not. Opting to let the rhythmic dance of raindrops cloak you further, you choose the soothing drumbeat of rain over the potential moans echoing through the walls. It’s better to give them more time to finish whatever they are doing, instead of going back and having to listen to it.

As the rain clings to your clothes and skin, an uncomfortable yet strangely welcomed sensation, you yearn for more than just the soothing touch of the downpour. Hoping against hope, you wish the rain could wash away the turmoil in your chest, or perhaps, deliver to you the one thing you crave and need the most—love.

Jimin.

In the recesses of your heart, the truth echoes loudly— he is the one meant for you, and the regret gnaws at your soul for not confessing your feelings earlier. The fear of disrupting and jeopardizing his current relationship hangs heavy, a bitter pill you swallow. His decision is made, and you must bear the weight of it.

Frustration clenches your hands as you yearn for a conversation, a connection—anything to breach the walls he’s created, leaving you to wonder why he’s avoiding you or won’t acknowledge you at all.

As your breath quickens, tears intertwine with the raindrops on your cheeks, a blurred fusion where your own sorrows become indistinguishable from the weeping sky.

Your clothes cling to you, saturated by the persistent rain, and you decide it’s time to retreat from the star-studded night. With a silent farewell to the celestial display, you make your way back into the house, yearning for the solace of a quiet room, and silently hoping your sister and Jungkook have concluded their love making.

As you open the door and traverse the hallway, the muffled exchange of hushed voices reaches your ears, causing your heart to sink. Determined, you press on and step into your bedroom, conveniently situated next to your sister’s. Lately, you’ve cursed this proximity, contemplating the idea of seeking refuge downstairs in the guestroom.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed and muted moans persist, making you release a weary sigh, hastily snatching your pillow to shield your ears from the intimate sounds infiltrating the air.

Morning arrives, and you’re weary, having fallen asleep with the pillow cocooned around your head. Your once-neat hair now resembles a bird’s nest, and your body, feeling rigid and sore, yearns for the elusive embrace of a restful night’s sleep.

Fatigue clinging to every step, you drag your weary body to the bathroom, performing the mundane rituals of brushing teeth and washing your face. The mirror mercilessly reflects the under-eye bags, taunting reminders of restless nights. A scoff escapes your lips as you splash water on your face, a futile attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion and rouse yourself from the morning haze.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook steps out of your sister’s room, wearing a sheepish yet gentle smile. Weariness etched on your features, you respond with a weary nod, acknowledging his presence.

Apology etched in his expression, he inquires, “Did we disturb your sleep?”

Concern lines his face, yet beneath the surface, a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes sweep over your tired form.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice, though deep down, you acknowledge that ’fine’ is a distant echo from the truth.

“We’ll keep it down,” he assures, a warm smile gracing his features as he absentmindedly scratches his head. A soft chuckle escapes you, an acknowledgment of the genuine sweetness and kindness that radiate from him.

“Jungkook, really, you don’t have to worry. I’ll grab some earplugs or whatever,” you laugh, the sound devoid of true joy. Despite your attempts at humor, each forced smile or chuckle only serves as a reminder of the hollowness and sorrow settling in your chest.

Jungkook gives you a reluctant nod, a silent acknowledgment of your weariness and the deflated emotions you carry. With a heavy heart, you retreat into your room to get dressed, the weight of the morning and the unresolved thoughts lingering in the air.

As you descend and enter the kitchen, the comforting aroma of Ha-rin’s nearly finished breakfast fills the air. Offering a hand, you assist her in setting up the table in the cozy dining room. The rarity of having everyone gather for a meal is not lost on you; usually, you’re consumed by solitary, hurried bites as the demands of the ranch beckon. However, today unfolds differently, marked by an unusual slowness in the rhythm of ranch life.

“You look tired,” she observes with a gentle concern in her voice as the two of you collaborate in setting the table. A soft chuckle escapes you, a mixture of acknowledgment and self-deprecating humor. It’s as if they’ve pointed out the obvious—yes, you’re aware you don’t look your best, but must they bring attention to it?

“Thanks. Jungkook and Jessi kept me up again,” you respond with a weariness that seeps into both your voice and posture, a tiredness underscored by a stifled yawn.

As you turn your head, Jungkook and Jessi stand in the doorframe, wearing apologetic expressions that mirror the remorse evident in their eyes.

“We’re sorry,” your sister offers a sincere smile as she pulls out a chair, settling down. Jungkook follows suit, immediately diving into the meal with an eagerness that hints at his hunger.

“It’s fine,” you brush off their apologies with weary eyes and a nonchalant wave. “At least you’re getting some,” you jest, but an awkward hush descends upon the room. The atmosphere turns dense, and their uncertain expressions reveal they’re unsure how to react. “Don’t mind me; I’m just... frustrated. Not at you, though!” you quickly reassure them, taking a seat and joining in the meal.

For a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence descends, wrapping around the room like an unwelcome guest. It’s the kind of awkward stillness that feels stifling and peculiar, and you find yourself yearning for someone to break it, to utter anything to shatter the tension lingering in the air.

“We actually have something to tell you,” your sister begins, and as you meet her eyes, you notice a sparkle of excitement, maybe even love, dancing in them. Her happiness is contagious; a radiant smile graces her lips, and a delicate pink hue adorns her cheeks, complementing her beautifully. It’s a sight that warms your heart, pulling a genuine smile from you in return.

Jungkook gently moves his hand over Jessi’s, giving it a tender squeeze, and his eyes gleam with a radiant light, an unmistakable shimmer of affection, you presume. Their laughter dances in the air, and their shared smiles are like a silent declaration of the love that binds them.

“We’ve been meaning to share something with you,” your sister begins, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Jungkook and I are dating,” she announces, and you can’t help but feel your smile broaden. You observe the subtle exchange of glances between them, a blend of happiness and nervousness, as if unsure of how you’ll react to this newfound chapter in their relationship.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, and you can’t help but beam, your emotions laid bare. “That makes me so happy to hear!” A single tear escapes, and you playfully scold yourself, but deep down, you’re overwhelmed with joy for your sister and Jungkook.

Your sister’s concern deepens as she leans in, her eyes reflecting worry. “Are you okay with this? You seem a bit sad…”

With tear-streaked cheeks, you point to your clearly emotional face, chuckling through the joyful tears. “This? I’m just thrilled for you. I just... wish I had that too. But I’m genuinely happy for you.” Sniffling, you manage a smile, though your plate is nearly obscured by your overwhelming emotions.

Jungkook, your sister, and Ha-rin exchange concerned glances, but wisely refrain from prying further. You believe they’ve caught on; your weeks of moping and the emotional rollercoaster have left little room for secrets. It’s ridiculous, you scold yourself internally, navigating the intricate maze of your own emotions. The irony of grieving a relationship that never truly existed weighs heavy on your chest, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for what could have been.

Genuine happiness radiates within you for their newfound relationship, and you don’t perceive it as strange. Sure, there was a fleeting encounter with Jungkook, as Jessi pointed out, but it was just that—a passing moment. You never harbored romantic feelings for him; your joy stems from seeing them genuinely happy together. Yet, an undeniable pang echoes in your heart, a yearning for that elusive connection you witness in them, to have that special someone— and that someone is Jimin.

Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you grapple with the uncertainty of your feelings for Jimin. Every attempt to navigate this emotional maze has hit a dead end – avoiding him, attempting conversations that fall on deaf ears, and even embracing silence only to be met with his intense gaze.

The enigma that is Jimin remains beyond your comprehension. Your desire for him lingers, leaving you in a perplexing predicament with no clear path forward.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of hooves against the earth, offering guidance as a fiery-red mare gracefully circles you in the pen. Perched atop the fence, Yoongi, accompanied by Hoseok, shares his insights. Lately, with the challenging task of taming wild horses, Hoseok has become an invaluable ally, contributing his skill and energy to the shared pursuit.

His involvement extends beyond mere assistance; he actively contributes to the preparations, occasionally joining your rides and, on other occasions, simply sharing moments as you engage in the day’s tasks. Today, he observes with keen interest, his presence an unspoken support in the rhythm of your work.

You attempt to find your focus, and you let your shoulders sag, reminding yourself of the importance of a calm and clear mind in handling the unpredictable nature of the horses. Despite your efforts, stress and frustration linger, making the task more challenging. Today seems particularly difficult. Your gaze repeatedly drifts toward Yoongi and Hoseok, seated closely. The air between them carries a subtle tension, Yoongi fidgeting with his shirt, an uncharacteristic unease marking his demeanor. It’s funny how being around someone you like can change the way you behave.

You let out a soft chuckle, finding Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok endearing. The uncertainty of whether Hoseok reciprocates, or even what his preferences are— if he’s into men, women or both. You have no clue, but you genuinely hope that Hoseok shares Yoongi’s feelings; knowing that Yoongi could use a guy like Hoseok in his life.

The red mare’s whinny echoes through the air as it breaks into a wild gallop, gracefully navigating the pen with powerful bucks. This one, a recent addition, demands more patience than its counterparts. However, you embrace the challenge, recognizing that each horse is unique, and you’re willing to invest the time needed to build trust and understanding.

You let the spirited mare run around the pen, attempting to divert your attention from its antics. Instead, your gaze returns to the two men on the fence. They’re engaged in casual conversation, possibly about work, but the genuine smile on Yoongi’s face has an inexplicable effect on your heart. Hoseok’s eyes light up at every word from Yoongi, and it feels as if your heart could burst into a garden of blossoming flowers. In that moment, you yearn for a connection as beautiful and captivating as the one unfolding before you.

As your gaze drifts, it travels up to the yard, settling on the house that holds the thoughts of the man who occupies your every waking moment—Jimin. The silence between you two persists, leaving you in a state of anticipation. Every now and then, you catch glimpses of him with Deiji, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite the small flower in your chest withering at the sight, you remind yourself it’s okay, even though anger still lingers.

“Watch out!” Hoseok shouts, leaping down from the fence with Yoongi in tow. Before you can react, you find yourself sprawled on the ground with a thud. A frustrated groan escapes your lips as you rub your back, rolling over to your side.

You spot Yoongi approaching the red mare, hands raised in the air, skillfully redirecting its attention away from you. Meanwhile, Hoseok is already down on his knees beside you. As your eyes flutter open, a wave of confusion washes over you.

Concern fills Hoseok’s voice as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Your gaze meets his, lingering confusion evident. Meanwhile, Yoongi persists in his attempt to soothe the red mare, now employing a gentler approach, his words whispered in a hushed tone.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok’s as you ask, “What happened?”

His outstretched hand becomes your anchor, pulling you up into a sitting position, your fingers instinctively rubbing your sore back again.

His words hit you, “The horse ran you over,” accompanied by a subtle chuckle. Yet, his eyes reveal a deeper concern as he carefully scans you, ensuring that you’re genuinely okay.

You glance around in confusion at the sandy expanse of the pen.

“It did?” you inquire, perplexed, your gaze shifting down to the ground where you find yourself. You must have blacked out or something. You assess your body, feeling a general lack of pain, at least not as much as you expected.

“I think I’m fine,” you assure Hoseok, allowing him to help you up as you stand. You dust off the sand from your pants and shirt, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Yoongi, having calmed the mare, walks over to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks you up and down. You chuckle, dismissing any concern with a wave of your hand. There’s no need for a fuss over a simple fall.

“I’m fine. I was just pushed. No biggie!” you declare, gesturing with your hands to reassure them that everything is under control.

“Maybe we should take a look at you at the house?” Hoseok suggests, and you instantly flinch, a wave of apprehension washing over you.

“Oh god no. I’m fine, and I really don’t want to go in there,” you state firmly, a pressed smile on your face. The last thing you need is to see Jimin with Deiji again; better to stay clear of them, as you’ve been doing recently. Both Yoongi and Hoseok laugh, and you notice the way they look at each other, as if there’s something you’ve missed. For a split second, you feel left out before joining in the laughter yourself.

You ask Yoongi to finish working on the red mare while you and Hoseok take a seat on top of the fence. From there, you observe him letting the horse run about, much like you did earlier. Yoongi always appears so relaxed when he’s working. His ability to keep his mind sealed off and clear during tasks is incredible. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for you or Hoseok. The dynamic between the three of you is unique, each with your own way of approaching the work at hand.

The happy-go-lucky man next to you appears captivated by watching Yoongi work; his eyes shine as bright as the sun. The way he holds his breath, as if the air is too thick with something, sparks a glimmer of hope within you. Perhaps it’s because he might harbor feelings for Yoongi.

You meticulously apply eyeliner and mascara, ensuring you look flawless. Returning to your room, your eyes fall upon the elegant purple satin gown laid out on your bed. The floor-length attire boasts a sweetheart neckline, perfectly complemented by a pair of carefully chosen low heels that you gracefully slip into.

Before stepping out, you steal a moment to gaze at your reflection in the mirror, and what stares back at you is nothing short of captivating.

As you step outside your door, you encounter your sister, adorned in a floor-length gown of deep blue that borders on the verge of velvety blackness.

“Wow, you look stunning,” you compliment your sister, and she responds with a soft smile, her fingers nervously dancing with the edges of her purse.

“Thanks, you look incredible too,” she smiles warmly, and together you descend the stairs to join the other girls.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin await you downstairs, adorned in stunning gowns for the night’s gala in town. The charity event, featuring an auction, aims to raise funds for the local hospital’s children’s ward. Ara stuns in a radiant red dress, Soo-ah elegantly dons baby blue, prompting you to ponder if it’s her favorite color, and Ha-rin exudes sophistication in a black gown. The quartet, a vision of beauty, gathers in the kitchen, the air buzzing with excitement for the glamorous night ahead.

“Ready for an enchanting evening, everyone?” you inquire, casting a smile across the group, your eyes dancing with anticipation.

“Yeah!” Soo-ah cheers with infectious joy, and without a second thought, you all rush to the door, hitch up your dresses, and dash into the yard, the relentless rain already kissing your gowns with its playful touch.

You hastily hop into the car, and Jessi swiftly ignites the engine, reversing out of the yard. The rain’s symphony dances on the windshield, while the sun gracefully sets, painting the sky in captivating shades of gold and pink.

Jessi navigates the road with precision, and the group settles into a comfortable ease. Casual conversations and light-hearted jokes fill the air, yet your mind strays elsewhere, tethered to thoughts of Jimin. Anticipating his presence at the gala, you resolve to keep a careful distance, aware that the crowd might offer a shield for the avoidance you seek.

Navigating the rain-drenched roads adds extra time to your journey into town, but finally, you pull up in front of City Hall. The building itself seems to have donned its best attire for the occasion, adorned with banners and a vibrant red carpet that unfurls invitingly through the grand entrance.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car, you hastily step out, seeking refuge under the overhang of the building to escape the relentless rain. A quick scan of the parking lot reveals the presence of Jimin and Jungkook’s trucks, instantly causing a pang in your chest. The prospect of encountering Jimin tonight tightens your heart, and you brace yourself for the emotional storm that might follow.

“Ugh I fucking hate the rain,” Soo-ah groans beside you, her disdain for the downpour resonating with your own sentiments. Your chuckle, a small escape from the damp reality, lingers in the misty air.

Ensuring everyone is prepared, you lead the way into the grand hall. The opulence hits you instantly – a symphony of golds and reds creating a lavish spectacle. The vast space is adorned with small, round tables draped in rich red cloth, each topped with flickering candles. Towards the front, a podium commands attention, surrounded by carefully curated art pieces. Among them, proudly displayed, are a couple of your own paintings, awaiting their moment in tonight’s charitable auction.

Approaching the guys, you’re met with a sight to behold—Jungkook impeccably clad in a black tux adorned with subtle stripes, while Yoongi and Hoseok exude charm in their tuxedos, each strand of hair meticulously styled. Embracing them warmly, your attention shifts to Jimin, not far off, accompanied by his stunning girlfriend. The duo radiates elegance, and you can’t help but curse Jimin silently for his undeniable allure— his ass looks so good in those pants. His tux drapes his frame flawlessly, accentuating every curve, and you catch yourself practically drooling before quickly averting your eyes.

Spotting his gaze directed your way, you respond with a silent nod. Despite your desire to keep your distance, you choose the path of politeness, offering this small acknowledgment in the crowded elegance of the gala.

The room swells with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Across the expanse, you catch sight of Namjoon and Seokjin at a neighboring table. With a warm smile, you extend a friendly wave in their direction.

As the auction commences, you navigate through the crowd toward a table, silently grateful for opting for low heels to spare your feet. A glass of champagne in hand, you join Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, and Ara at a table. Meanwhile, Ha-rin has engaged in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Seokjin across the room, their friendship evident even from a distance.

Jessi and Jungkook are stationed at a table alongside Jimin and Deiji, and a scoff escapes you when your gaze lands on Jimin. The silence between you two remains, a lack of surprise settling in as a familiar companion at this point.

He appears incredibly alluring, like a full-course meal, and something stirs within your veins—a concoction of anger and jealousy, perhaps. The desire to speak to him, to feel his touch, clashes with the urge to tear him apart. Later, the thought of dancing with him lingers, but the awkwardness stemming from his radio silence and the undeniable truth that he isn’t yours keeps you at a wary distance.

The auctioneer’s voice becomes a distant murmur, his words lost in the whirl of paintings and various items on the stand. Your attention, however, is not tethered to the auction; instead, it’s ensnared by the intensity in Jimin’s gaze. The way his eyes lock onto yours mirrors a familiarity, reminiscent of the look he gave you weeks ago during Jessi’s cast celebration dinner. The unspoken depth in his eyes unsettles you, inducing a subtle sweat, nervous energy, and an involuntary gulp.

With no refuge in sight, you attempt to anchor yourself in the rhythm of your heartbeat, a desperate bid to quell the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Indeed— sin personified gazes your way, but what does it matter? His silence, his refusal to engage, grates on your last nerves. You know you’re at an auction right now, and it would be weird to talk at this event, but dammit, he could just come over and ask you for a talk, pull you off to another room. Anything, really.

A sly smile graces your lips as Yoongi playfully nudges your shoulder, and you, in turn, lean into the comfort of his presence. A subtle shift in Jimin’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the intensity of his eyes deepening as the unspoken tension weaves through the air.

Hoseok playfully nudges you as your vibrant red painting graces the auction stage. Surprisingly, an elegant elderly lady becomes enamored with it, bidding generously and claiming it as her own. Gratitude swells within you, knowing that the proceeds will contribute to a worthy cause.

Jimin’s unwavering gaze continues to linger on you, an irritation bubbling within. You question why he can’t redirect his attention to his girlfriend or, at the very least, the ongoing auction.

The auction unfolds in the background, but your focus remains unyielding to the bidding, stolen by the persistent gaze of the blonde man. His intense gaze feels like he’s stripping you down with his eyes. Yet you remain nonchalant, indifferent to his silent advances.

During a brief respite, as delectable appetizers circulate the room, you discreetly savor the miniature delights, determinedly diverting your attention from Jimin as per your original strategy.

Abruptly, you interject into the group’s conversation, “Is there something on my face?” Their perplexed gazes pivot towards you, uncertain of the sudden inquiry.

As you munch on a bite of food, you nonchalantly toss in, “Jimin keeps giving me these intense stares, and I just don’t get it.”

Yoongi and Hoseok share a knowing chuckle, their eyes reflecting a camaraderie that Soo-ah and Ara immediately catch onto, shooting you looks of playful understanding.

“No, there’s nothing on your face,” Soo-ah says with a teasing smile, her words dripping with a playful undertone.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Ara suggests, her voice carrying a gentle note of encouragement, like a flicker of a candle in the dim room of uncertainty.

“He doesn’t want to talk, and I hardly think this is the place for it…” you say, the words hanging in the air like a fleeting sigh, drowned out by the buzz of conversations around you as you take a thoughtful sip of your champagne.

You redirect your attention to the auctioneer, a black vase taking center stage this time. As the bidding unfolds, you indulge in another sip of champagne, feeling the effervescent bubbles dance teasingly across your tongue, a subtle distraction from the tension in the room.

As the final gavel falls, signaling the end of the auction, a wave of relief washes over you. The speakers come alive with soulful melodies, casting a warm ambiance over the room. To your surprise, the atmosphere becomes infectious, and you observe couples from other tables swaying to the rhythmic tunes. A chuckle escapes you, realizing you’ve never been one to dance at such formal events. Nevertheless, the music’s allure beckons, and you find yourself succumbing to the rhythm, ready to embrace the unexpected joy of the night.

Yoongi seizes your hands, whisking you onto the dance floor in a whirl of laughter and joy. The dance is a delightful blend of fun and friendship, his every move resonating with an infectious rhythm. As you twirl under the dazzling lights, you catch Hoseok’s gaze fixed on Yoongi. Leaning in, you share a whispered observation, “Hoseok’s eyes are practically glued to you, you know?”

His laughter reverberates through the air, a melody that resonates with a warmth you find comforting. “I know,” he chuckles, the sound a harmonious note in the symphony of the evening.

As he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes, you can’t help but reciprocate with a grateful smile. He twirls you around, a dance of understanding, letting you sway out of his embrace only to draw you back in. Oh, the dance you share with him is a temporary refuge, a wishful escape from the reality you yearn to change. However, your joy falters as you catch Jimin’s gaze; his eyes, far from angelic, hold a mysterious intensity that pierces through the rhythm of the music.

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans in, “Jimin’s got his eyes on you too.”

“I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked through that door,” you admit with a sigh, your gaze wandering over the dance floor where your sister twirls with Jungkook, and Ha-rin gracefully dances with Seokjin.

“You should consider talking to him,” he suggests again, but you dismiss the idea with a subtle shake of your head.

“I doubt it would make any difference, honestly,” you laugh, pressing your body into Yoongi’s. His warmth envelops you, and for a brief moment, in his embrace, everything feels like it might just be okay.

Taking a step back from Yoongi, you express the need for a break. As you make your way back to the table to sip on more champagne, you observe Yoongi inviting Hoseok to dance, a proposal met with a willing agreement. Soo-ah joins you at the table, casting a gentle gaze in your direction.

“You danced with Hoseok?” You inquire, your gaze softened with curiosity.

“I did,” she admits with a smile. “He’s a really nice guy.” You nod, acknowledging her words. However, you can’t shake the understanding that someone in your circle might end up with a bruised heart, considering both Yoongi and Soo-ah have affections for Hoseok.

As you watch Hoseok and Yoongi gracefully moving on the dance floor, impressed by Hoseok’s skilled control over his body, a genuine smile plays on your lips. However, that fleeting moment of joy is interrupted as you sense the weight of brown eyes piercing into your back. Turning around, you find Jimin dancing intimately with Deiji, the intensity of his gaze making your smile fade.

You observe Jimin and Deiji dancing cheek to cheek, their bodies pressed tightly together, making you scoff and redirect your attention to Soo-ah. Just as you try to shake off the unsettling sight, a tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts. You turn around to find Hoseok, his bright smile inviting, “Do you want to dance?”

You seize his hand, allowing him to whisk you onto the dance floor, reminiscent of how Yoongi did earlier. Hoseok effortlessly twirls you around, evoking laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Knowing you’re not the most adept dancer, you surrender to his guidance, and he proves to be exceptionally skilled at leading you through the dance.

Amid the enjoyment, a surge of audacity overcomes you, prompting an uncharacteristic move. “What do you think about Yoongi?” The words spill out unexpectedly, catching Hoseok off guard, a reaction vividly displayed on his face. A chuckle escapes you as you revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

“What do you mean?” he asks, catching off guard.

Unable to contain your mischievous grin, you lean in and tease, “You know he likes you, right?” As the words escape your lips, you’re conscious of the trust you might be breaking but convinced that mingling is the key to any potential connection. Hoseok, though initially shocked, isn’t repulsed as you feared. Instead, his eyes widen, and a subtle pink tint adorns his cheeks, leaving you wondering how he’ll respond.

“He does?” Hoseok stammers, caught off guard and missing a beat. Your chuckle only intensifies as you nod in confirmation. The revelation lingers in the air, and you sense that you might not have to do much more to set things in motion.

As you continue to dance, a comfortable silence envelops you both before Hoseok breaks it, his words hanging in the air, “You know Jimin likes you too.”

You roll your eyes, well aware of the situation. “Yeah, not much to do about it when he has a girlfriend,” you admit with a wry smile. Despite Hoseok’s good intentions, you’ve firmly decided not to act on your feelings while Jimin is still in a relationship. It’s a line you won’t cross.

You dance a little longer until Yoongi is at your side again, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wears a curious smile as he asks, “What were you talking about with Hoseok?”

You chuckle softly, “I told him.”

He glances at you, a puzzled expression on his face, “Told him what?”

“That you’ve got a crush on him,” you declare, matter-of-factly, in a hushed tone meant just for the two of you. However, with the rain tapping on the roof and the music playing, it’s a challenge to catch every word.

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t exactly radiate joy, but there’s a subtle softness to his features, an almost-relaxed demeanor. He releases a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t my place to say anything. But he actually seemed intrigued!” You share, your words riding the rhythm of the music as you sway with Yoongi. His tension eases, and he responds with a soft expression, a subtle acknowledgment of the revelation.

“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “it wasn’t your place, but it’s fine.”

You lean into him, embracing him gently and offering a reassuring pat on the back. In that moment, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you once again. The repetitive stares leave you puzzled. Why is he focused on you instead of his girlfriend?

You feel your heart quicken, your nostrils flare, and your hands clench around Yoongi’s back. He pulls you away, confusion etched on his face, questioning what’s wrong. But you see red. It’s reached a boiling point. The anger simmers inside you, consuming every inch of your being, and with determination, you let go of Yoongi and stride purposefully over to Jimin and Deiji.

Standing before them, you take a deep inhale, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing beneath your skin. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” Your voice slices through the ambient sounds, a piercing question that fractures the comfortable cocoon around Jimin and Deiji. Jimin slowly turns to face you, his expression shifting from surprise to a somber acknowledgment, as if he’s been caught in the act of something he’d rather keep hidden.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” you hiss, your hands tightly clenched at your sides, radiating with anger.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” you raise your voice, the anger boiling so fiercely within you that you feel breathless as you unleash your words.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab your finger accusingly at her, and she flinches, uncertain about how to react. Jimin simply gazes at you, as though you’ve lost your marbles—and maybe you have, because the words keep pouring out.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You huff, the waves of anger radiating from your body. The sudden realization hits you that the entire room is now fixated on the spectacle, and an eerie silence envelops the space, punctuated only by the intensity of your heated words.

Yoongi steps up beside you, a silent force attempting to ground you, but you refuse to yield. The torrent of anger surges within you, and with an accusatory finger, you unleash your fury on Jimin.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your words, laden with venom, spill from your lips in a torrent of conflicting emotions. You seethe, feeling strangely lighter, though the room spins around you. Yoongi releases your arm, his face a mix of shock, and confusion mirrors the peculiar glances from those around you, leaving you wondering why everyone is now looking at you even more strangely than before.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you hiss at Jimin, catching him off guard. Deiji wears a displeased expression, and Jimin’s features soften in a way that leaves you utterly bewildered.

Deiji appears visibly irritated, and you’re left wondering if her frustration is directed at you or if she shares your exasperation for Jimin. As the tension simmers, Jimin unexpectedly breaks into laughter, his audacity fueling the fire of your anger. The laughter grates on your nerves, aggravating you further. Why on earth is he finding amusement in this situation? There’s nothing remotely funny about it, intensifying the blaze of your already fiery emotions.

You jab your accusatory finger at him once more, your voice cutting through the tension, “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Your voice may carry the tone of an angered child denied its desires, but you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you’re finally confronting Jimin, even if the conversation seems to be one-sided.

You observe as he parts his lips, ready to utter words that you don’t wish to hear.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” You hiss in frustration, ready to pivot away from the awkward situation, aware of the collective gaze of all the guests upon you. As you start to turn, Jimin’s firm grip on your wrist stops you, compelling you to face him again.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” You shriek, wrenching your arm free, and storming out of the building. The erratic thumping of your heart resonates like a dissonant ringing in your ears, mirroring the chaos within.

Gasping frantically for air, your breath catching in turbulent spasms, you step outside, feeling as if your body is unraveling at the seams. Collapsing on the stairs, you surrender to the tremors of anger pulsating through you. Attempting to regain composure, you strive to slow your breath, but the task proves as challenging as holding back a tempest.

Regret floods your senses, a torrent of remorse for every word unleashed in the heat of anger, half of them lost to the haze of fury. The weight of all eyes fixed upon you, their gaze searing into your soul, amplifies the desire for the ground to open up and engulf you whole.

What transpired in that room, and how did it all spiral into such chaos?

A symphony of hooves shatters the tranquility of your peaceful slumber, jerking you awake. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hurry to the window to witness the commotion outside. In the distance, a captivating spectacle unfolds — a wild herd of horses, led by the majestic brown stallion, thundering across the landscape. These creatures have become frequent visitors, drawing nearer to the ranch with each passing day. Curiosity grips you; what secrets do these untamed spirits carry, and why do they venture closer to your haven?

With a contented sigh, you wearily make your way back to your bed, sinking into its welcoming embrace. A spontaneous yawn escapes, accompanied by a luxurious stretch that sends waves of relaxation through your well-rested body. The simple joy of a peaceful night’s sleep settles over you, like a comforting blanket enveloping your weary soul.

Entering the bathroom, you brace yourself for the day ahead. Under the rejuvenating spray of a quick shower, you allow the cascading water to serve as a cleansing force, washing away not only yesterday’s mistakes but also the lingering regret that clings to your every thought. The steam clouds your reflection, a metaphorical veil between the past and the potential for a better today.

The bracing cold water jolts you into wakefulness, a refreshing prelude to the day ahead. As rivulets of water cascade down, you ensure every trace of sleep is banished, emerging invigorated and ready for the rigors of another day on the ranch. Donning a weathered shirt, worn-in pants, and your trusty boots, you complete the ensemble with the signature hat that shields your face from the sun’s relentless gaze. Descending the stairs, you find Ara in the kitchen, skillfully crafting a sandwich for her morning appetite.

“Hey there!” you chirp, a grin lighting up your face, buoyed by the rare joy of a restful night’s sleep. A subtle acknowledgment forms in your mind—thankful for your sister and Jungkook opting for a night at his place, granting you the serenity that fueled the upbeat mood.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ara inquires, her attention focused on putting away the butter, as if carefully choosing the moment to meet your eyes.

“Actually, leave it out. I could use one too,” you interject, and Ara obligingly retrieves the butter, finally meeting your gaze. “As for how I’m doing—just fine.”

She hands you the butter and a knife, a wry smile playing on her lips, “Some party, huh?”

She chuckles, and you roll your eyes. The weight of her laughter only intensifies your embarrassment, a vivid reminder of the scene you created at the gala. You find yourself wishing for the ground to open up and spare you from the aftermath of your emotional outburst. Why did you have to make such a spectacle?

Damn you and your relentless emotions. Now the whole world, or at least everyone at the gala, knows the depth of your disdain for Jimin, you assume. You bury your face in your hands, releasing a frustrated grunt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to create such a spectacle.”

Ara’s laughter rings out, much to your dismay, intensifying the furrow in your brow. You don’t see the humor; you’ve practically made a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“Well, we all had a blast,” she laughs, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, “I’m sure Jimin is having a good laugh about it too.”

You roll your eyes once more, highly skeptical. After all, you called him so many terrible names, didn’t allow him a word in, and basically told him to stick it in his ass.

Wonderful. Great. Peachy. Words that utterly fail to capture the chaotic storm of emotions swirling within you at this very moment. The vivid memories of your passionate outburst yesterday haunt you, casting a shadow over any semblance of composure. There’s a lingering wish to escape the possibility of encountering Jimin and his girlfriend again, but deep down, you acknowledge that luck doesn’t favor you so generously.

You hastily slather butter onto your bread, devouring it in its pure simplicity. The imminent need to depart gnaws at you; the day awaits, beckoning you to gallop over to the Bell ranch, where the untamed spirits of the wild horses entwine with the shared endeavors of you and Yoongi.

“I have to go,” you declare, snatching the bread in your mouth, and dash outdoors toward the barn. The sun, now radiantly shining, bestows a sense of hope upon your day, propelling you forward with anticipation.

As you saddle up Marshmallow and guide him outdoors, a faint sound begins to patter on the roof—a soft, rhythmic reminder of the rain.

Out in the open, the rain embraces you in seconds, a relentless downpour that draws a scoff. Undeterred, you plant your foot in the stirrup and swing the other leg over, urging Marshmallow into a full gallop. The rain pelts your face, but you ride on, indifferent to the weather’s challenge.

As you ride, thoughts of Jimin’s expression at the gala linger in your mind. Despite his initial composure, his face betrayed offense and anger, as if restraining the urge to shout back. He stood there, his girlfriend by his side, absorbing every word you hurled at him. Regret tugs at you, but the words are irreversible, a turbulent exchange you can’t undo, even if you wished otherwise.

A yearning lingers within you, hoping that Jimin would have retorted, engaged in a verbal sparring, or at least defended himself. However, his silence echoes louder than any words, leaving you to ponder the significance of his unspoken response.

You sense that words were poised on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, ready to spill out, but a conscious decision to shield yourself from his potential revelations compelled you to shut down any communication before it began.

The peculiar weather paints a contradictory scene: raindrops cascade, yet the sun defiantly radiates its warmth, creating a surreal ambiance. In the midst of this meteorological paradox, a double rainbow graces the distant horizon. The sight, both enchanting and whimsical, elicits a genuine smile, urging you to spur Marshmallow into an even faster gallop. Each rhythmic beat of his hooves seems to synchronize with the cadence of your heart, a determined attempt to outride the persistent thoughts of Jimin that linger in your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, a welcoming sight after the turbulent events, you guide Marshmallow down to the pen where Yoongi and Hoseok eagerly await your arrival. Skillfully securing Marshmallow to the fence, you exchange greetings with the two men, the atmosphere pregnant with anticipation for the day’s tasks on the ranch.

Hoseok’s laughter greets you even before you utter a single word, prompting an eye roll from you in response.

As Yoongi dedicates himself to the fiery-red mare once more, you find your way to the fence, settling in next to Hoseok with a sense of camaraderie.

“Nice gala, huh?” Hoseok teases, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggests he’s well aware of the evening’s drama. You respond with a loud groan, wondering why people find the need to rub your failures in your face.

“Shit. I regret how I behaved. It’s so embarrassing,” you confess, closing your eyes as if wishing to erase yesterday from existence.

“I understand. But it was fun to watch,” he laughs heartily, his entire being pulsating with mirth.

You shift your gaze downward to Yoongi in the pen, “Have you noticed the herd of wild horses getting closer?”

Yoongi nods knowingly, “Yeah.”

You observe the mare’s lively movements before turning your attention back to Yoongi, “What do you think it means?”

Yoongi looks up from the mare, his expression serious, “Nothing good.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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