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daechwitatamic · 2 years

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Trip || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Trip || a KTH one-shot by daechwitatamic (masterlist)

Pairing: KTH x female reader, JJK x OC, JHS x OC

Genre: f2l, fluff, camping!au

WC: 22k

Rating: M - minors DNI

Summary: Your gigantic crush on Kim Taehyung is so bad that you drop whatever you’re holding every time he speaks to you. Your dirty liar of a best friend SWORE to you he wouldn’t be on this camping trip, but he is. Luckily, the trip gives Taehyung the chance to see you in a new light, admittedly with some help from his best friend (and definitely hired spy) Park Jimin.

Warnings: socially awkward oc, introverted oc, a few injuries including a bad sprain and a deep cut that will require stitches – some scenes of basic first aid as these are handled and there is blood involved, cursing, drinking, kissing, groping, breast play, like two seconds of grinding, a disgusting amount of soft affectionate feelings

Notes: This is for @/thebtswritersclub Summer Project, for the “camping/hiking” prompt. I hope y’all enjoy! Thank you to the Mods who organized the event!

Huge thank you to @/kookstempo for beta-ing, for helping me choose snippets, and for dealing with my bible-book summary process. Another thank you to @/cherrysoulth for the beta job, much appreciated!

I did, in fact, steal the Douchebag Jar from The New Girl, so if you work for them, don’t sue me, just enjoy the kpop fanfiction that I make zero dollars from. I also stole “chaos gremlin” specifically as a direct description of Park Jimin from @/m-yg93, so, hey, thanks for the apt description.

“Hey, so… I know last week I said he wasn’t… but apparently, Taehyung is coming on this trip.”

You almost drive off the highway.

After you correct your car - the back seat of which is laden with backpacks, coolers, tents, camping chairs, and other gear – you shoot your best friend a look. She smiles at you sheepishly from the passenger seat. There are lakes as far as you can see on either side of the highway, water glinting silver under a mid-afternoon sun, the highway slicing between them like a snake through a puddle.

“How long have you known that?” you ask her suspiciously. You wouldn’t be surprised if she’d known the whole time and had just lied to you when she first asked you to attend a camping trip with her boyfriend and his friends. She knew you wouldn’t have agreed if you knew Taehyung would be there.

He makes you too nervous. You just can’t enjoy yourself when he’s at events. And honestly, you’d thought a camping trip would be safe. Taehyung’s charming and really fucking hot, but he seems a bit pampered to you. You can’t really imagine him roughing it.

Not that you’re all really roughing it – the campsite is the kind with bathrooms you can walk to that have showers and real toilets, even though you have to walk a bit to get to them.

“I just found out this morning,” she tells you earnestly. “I promise. I know that you’re doing me a favor by coming along – I promise I wouldn’t do anything to make this suck for you. Not on purpose.”

It’s true. Delia’s only been dating Jungkook for about four months. Lately, they’ve been getting a lot more serious, but there’s still a lot of firsts that they’re going through, and going away together (with his group of friends, no less) is definitely a first. She’d begged you to come for moral support, even though you – like Taehyung – are pampered. The flushing toilets had been one of your conditions. This is also why she’s in your car keeping you company instead of in the car with Jungkook, even though you know Hoseok is bringing his girlfriend and they are most definitely sharing a car.

You resist the urge to press your head to the top of the steering wheel in distress.

“Del,” you say, and stop. You don’t even know where the rest of the sentence wants to go. Your stomach is churning.

Delia presses her lips together, giving you a deeply sympathetic look. She knows well that you’ve been crushing on Taehyung since the first time you met him – the same night Delia and Jungkook hooked up for the first time.

She also knows it’s a crush that renders you stupid – suddenly clumsy, unable to form full thoughts or coherent sentences, all logic leaving your body with the air from your lungs every time he smiles anywhere near your vicinity.

(“Girl, stop tripping,” she’d tell you. “He’s a nice, normal guy! You need to get it together!”)

It’s bad.

She’s told you before she’s never seen you like this, and you always tell her it’s because you’ve never been like this. And you’ve never even been alone with him, never had a serious conversation. Your inability to be normal around him is literally just from what you’ve observed about him in group settings. Imagine if you actually had, like, depth in your conversations? You’d have to board the nearest rocket to the damn moon.

It's so embarrassing.

But as beautiful as Taehyung is – as effortlessly charming, and secretly clever, and slyly funny – he’s also unattainable. Or, at least, it feels that way when you join Delia to hang out with Jungkook’s crew. Taehyung’s never been unkind to you – in fact, he never acts aloof. He’s friendly and welcoming – they all have been, every time. But there’s something about him that makes you think he’s hard to really know, like there are parts of himself that he keeps close. You also can’t help but feel like he must be out of your league with a face like that; not that you’re insecure – you’re not – it’s just that he’s hotter than almost everybody on the planet.

You also know – from Delia, who heard from Jungkook, who heard from Jimin – that he went through a pretty rough breakup about three months ago.

Anyway. It doesn’t matter. He’s cool, and beautiful, and you… can barely even function as yourself when he’s around. It just doesn’t make sense to pursue it. You’ve tried to avoid joining Delia to hang out with the guys if you know he’ll be there, preferring to hang out with Delia and Jungkook when they’re with Jimin, or Seokjin.

It just feels simpler that way.

“It’ll be okay,” Delia tells you, tapping her phone against the top of her leg. “It’s a big group going, he’ll be easy to avoid.”

You do your best to level a stare at her without taking your eyes completely off the road.

“Del,” you say flatly. “We’re spending three nights in the woods together. There is nothing to do but sit around and talk to each other. You know what’s going to happen. I’m going to look fucking stupid the whole time.”

“You won’t,” she says, flapping a hand, like she herself hasn’t witnessed you absolutely malfunction in Taehyung’s presence several times.

“Don’t lie to me,” you grumble, looking back at the road ahead of you.

She pats your leg amicably, and you spend some time in companionable quiet as the dark forests rush by outside the car’s windows.

It’s late afternoon when you arrive, pulling up to the little wooden booth where you check in. The girl inside, in a khaki uniform, goes over the campground’s rules and directs you to the two adjoined campsites that the boys had booked online.

It’s clear that you’re the last to arrive. Three cars are parked at the sites, and there’s already two tents erected.

As you park, Jungkook makes his way over, waiting to greet Delia with an arm around her shoulders and a press of lips to the top of her head. She beams, glows, all that shit. You busy yourself by starting to unpack the trunk and the backseat, starting with the cooler.

“Let me help with that,” says a deep voice behind you, and you drop the end of the cooler you had been pulling out of the car. It starts to slip to the ground, and you scramble to catch it. A second pair of hands steadies it with you, veins prominent.

“Thanks you. I mean, thank you. Thanks. Sorry,” you mutter, your words tripping over one another, your eyes on the ground. On the other side of the car, Delia is literally covering her face with her hand, shaking her head. You feel like your face is on fire.

Jungkook comes around the car to rescue you from yourself, taking one handle of the cooler and helping Taehyung carry it over to the picnic table where the food will be stored.

“Jesus,” Delia says, materializing next to you.

“I’m going home,” you deadpan. You feel shell-shocked, you can’t even process what a disaster you are. You didn’t even make it twenty seconds without embarrassing yourself.

She rubs the top of your back bracingly, as if you tell you to buck up. Face still flaming, you work on untangling the tent from the camping chairs, carrying it over to the empty spot.

“We have one more tent to go up there,” Jungkook calls to you. “We’re putting two tents on each campsite.”

“Okay,” you tell him. “I wasn’t going to set it up yet, so we can figure it out.”

The boys start working on the last two tents while you and Delia finish emptying out your car. The third girl in attendance, Hoseok’s girlfriend, wanders over and introduces herself as Suz, and offers to help organize everything as you unload chairs and food, beer and bug spray.

Between the seven guys, it doesn’t take long to set up the two remaining tents, spacing them evenly across the campsite so that all four tents make a horseshoe around the fire and the picnic tables. You and Delia start setting up the camping chairs around the fire. At the picnic table, Yoongi’s opened the first case of beer. His can opens with a hiss, and you watch several heads turn in that direction.

“Yes,” Jungkook says, already moving to grab two.

“Great decision making,” Jimin praises, hopping over a cooler as he makes his way over.

“As expected of our appointed Campsite Leader,” Taehyung says, but you notice that he doesn’t go for a beer. He already has a plastic cup in his hand; you wonder if he’s not a beer guy.

“I deeply do not want to be Campsite Leader,” Yoongi protests after taking a swig of his beer. “Make Joon do it.”

“Joon?” The three youngest guys speak almost in unison. The tall man in question flushes, laughing a little with self-deprecation.

“I think you misunderstand,” Jimin says, pulling the tab on his own can. “We’re trying not to die this weekend.”

Hoseok’s girlfriend, Suz, looks up in alarm from the camping chair she’s claimed.

“Nobody’s going to die,” Hoseok assures her, smiling lightly.

Delia groans loudly. “Now you’ve jinxed it,” she tells Hoseok, tone scolding.

For a while everyone just chills. Jimin hooks up a Bluetooth speaker and music plays beneath the steady flow of conversation. Hoseok, Suz, Taehyung, and Namjoon walk down to the lake “just to check it out”. With Taehyung gone from the campsite, you relax, settling into your folding camping chair and releasing a deep breath.

You’re startled when something cold touches your hand; looking around, you see that Delia is trying to pass you a beer.

“Bless you,” you tell her.

“You need it,” she says, giving you a look that would piss you off if it came from literally anyone else on the planet. “You’ve got to relax. He’s just a normal person. You have to act like it.”

“Shut up, please,” you tell her through a fake smile hiding gritted teeth. You’re very aware of how close to earshot Jimin is.

“I’m just saying,” she says, wandering back to Jungkook’s waiting lap.

“Well stop,” you grumble, open the beer she’d handed you.

Yoongi and Seokjin seem to be heading up grilling for dinner, huddled around the fire with tongs. Jungkook watches them even as he talks quietly with Delia, who perches on his lap happily. This leaves you with no one to talk to except Jimin, so you do, hoping he didn’t hear Delia’s big mouth.

“Have you guys done this before?” you ask him.

He turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in question as he processes what you asked.

“Oh,” he says. “No, not really. I think a few of these guys have – definitely Jungkook – but not as a group like this.”

“Should be fun,” you muse. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Morning hike, I think?” Seokjin answers you from across the fire, where he’s opening a package of meat to grill. Beside him, Yoongi clicks the tongs absentmindedly, his eyes far away. “They were going to do the Red trail.”

“Isn’t that the hard one?” Delia asks, stopping rubbing noses with Jungkook long enough to re-enter the conversation.

Yoongi comes back to planet earth and tells her, “It’s the more challenging of the two we picked, yeah. But it’s not hard.”

“We thought we should save the easier one for the last day,” Jungkook explains, leaning around Delia to look at you. “We’ll be tired by then.”

“Define ‘not hard,’” you request dryly. “Some of us aren’t gym rats.” You cast an accusatory look at Jungkook.

“I’m opting out,” Seokjin tells you as an answer. “I’ll do the Blue trail with everyone the day after, but no thanks to the Red trail.”

“It’s really not hard, he’s being a baby,” Yoongi assures you. “It’s actually a shorter distance than the Blue trail, it’s just that it’s steeper.”

“There are some sections that are kind of rocky,” Jungkook tells you. “Make sure you wear shoes with good tread.”

“Got it,” you say, nodding. You have decent hiking boots; you’ll be fine.

By the time the crew that went to the lake wander back into sight, you’ve absently finished your first beer. You toss the can to Jimin, who’s closest to the bag you’ve all designated for empties. He also takes the liberty of fishing a fresh one out of the cooler and tossing it back to you – right as Taehyung gets close enough to call, “Is dinner ready?”

You drop the beer in the dirt.

Jimin grimaces and you close your eyes with a sigh, and then lean down to retrieve the can, wiping dirt off the top with the hem of your shirt.

“The meat’s done,” Jin answers Taehyung’s question as the group file back into camp. “What do we want to do for sides?”

You go quiet as the group discusses. You’re the least picky eater you know, so you can’t really add to the conversation. You’ll be happy with whatever they come up with. You sit quietly, sipping your beer, looking around at the group and listening.

Taehyung slips into the chair next to Jimin and starts talking to him quietly about the lake – you gather from the conversation that they want to take the canoes (which are still atop two of the parked cars at the campsite) out tomorrow or the next day. Suz snuggles on the chair with Hoseok, mirroring Delia and Jungkook on the opposite side. Namjoon plops into an empty chair and asks you, “Do you hike much?”

“Much, no,” you admit. “Maybe once or twice a year. And I’ve never been here before. It’s really pretty.”

“The views from the top are wild,” he tells you. “That’s why we picked the Red trail – it’s tougher, but it’s worth it from the top.”

“I can’t wait,” you tell him. You’re very aware of Taehyung’s eyes on you from somewhere in your periphery.

When the food is agreed upon and fixed up, everyone takes turns rising to get what they want. As you all settle back into your chairs to eat, conversation dies down to nothing. You can hear the scrapes of forks against the paper plates, birds calling down by the water, the shouts of some kids staying at a campsite that must be just out of sight.

After eating and cleaning up, you decide to walk down to the lake since you haven’t seen it yet.

“If you go straight that way,” Taehyung tells you, using his whole arm to point, “you’ll meet up with a dirt path that leads right down to the beach. You literally can’t miss it.”

“You’d be surprised,” you tell him with a small smile. “But thanks.”

“I can go and make sure you don’t get lost,” he offers, voice light.

“No,” you shake your head. “You already went, that’d be silly. I’ll be fine by myself.”

Delia kicks you as you walk by, and you refuse to look. You can translate the kick perfectly – it means “oh my god he offered to go with you.”

To which you’d reply, if you were speaking, “It doesn’t mean anything, he’s just being nice.”

You head in the direction that Taehyung had pointed out, passing several other campsites on your way, including the one with the yelling kids. There are about six of them, various ages, playing some very brutal form of freeze tag. There is tackling involved. With a small smile, you carry on.

Past two more campsites, both with older couples tending to their campfires, you find the dirt path as promised. It leads you past a Rangers’ station, as well as the shower and bathroom buildings, which you mentally file away for later. They’ll be harder to find in the dark, you figure.

It’s not much longer before the path slopes dramatically, leading down to the beach, grass gradually giving way to sand. There are a few people walking along the beach, but no one in the water. You find a spot that seems out of the way and sit, sand soft between your toes.

Out across the water, the sun is dipping low, almost completely out of view. Its reflection dances and shimmers and you let yourself sit there feeling still and peaceful. Delia’s one of your favorite people, and you like Jungkook a lot for her, and his friends have always been so nice, but sometimes it’s hard for you to be “on” with a group of people for a long time. You take this time, watching the sun disappear inch by golden inch, to recharge in the silence.

Eventually the golden hour fades to blue. You watch the sky grow darker and darker, stars coming out one by one, each time you blink another four appearing. You’re about to rise and head back before it gets dark dark when you hear familiar voices behind you. It’s Del and Jungkook, coming down the path hand-in-hand.

“We were sent to rescue you,” Delia informs you with a grin.

“I need to be rescued?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you brush sand off of your butt and thighs.

“Taehyung certainly thought so,” she says suggestively.

“What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. You don’t love that these conversations happen in front of Jungkook, but you’ve accepted that what Delia knows, he knows too.

As far as you know, he’s kept his mouth shut.

She shrugs innocently. “He was very concerned about you down here by yourself, that’s all.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “He was not very concerned,” he counters. “He just mentioned that it’s dark now and it might be tricky finding the way back alone.”

You say nothing, leading the way back up the path. It is different in the dark, but you would have been fine.

You can hear your campsite before you can see it – Hoseok’s laughter carries across the night, harmonizing with Suz’s sharp giggle. You can hear Jimin’s voice, but you can’t make out what he’s saying, only that he sounds defensive. Below that, you can hear the quiet chords of a guitar.

It’s clear as you approach that the mood has shifted at camp. Liquor bottles, juice, and soda have been placed on the picnic table next to plastic cups. Yoongi, looking a little red in the face, leans over his guitar with a look of avid concentration. Seokjin is laying on his back across one of the picnic benches, looking sideways to argue heatedly with Taehyung about god-knows-what as Jimin laughs heartily, one hand on his aching stomach muscles.

“You found her!” Namjoon says, smiling.

“I wasn’t lost,” you assert. “I knew exactly where I was.”

“We thought you’d come back when it got dark,” Suz says, her dark eyes wide. “I wouldn’t want to be down there alone.”

“I kind of liked it,” you admit. “I like the part of dusk when it’s like… every time you look away and then look back, there are more stars than there were a second ago? We don’t really get to see that at home.”

“That’s true we don’t,” Namjoon muses. You head to the picnic table to mix yourself a drink; judging by the glassiness of Jimin’s eyes and the loose chuckle Hoseok is emitting, you have some catching up to do. Delia sidles up next to you to make her own drink and she gives you a loving hip-bump that makes you giggle.

“Careful, you’ll spill the vodka,” you warn her.

“No spilling vodka!” Taehyung calls from across the circle, overhearing this. “That shit was expensive!”

“See?” you say to Delia. “This is expensive vodka and you can’t spill it.”

As you finish making your drink, you’re aware of a pair of eyes watching you from the other side of the crackling fire. You try to ignore this piercing gaze, sip at your drink to make sure you made it right, and find an empty chair around the fire to claim. Even once you’re seated, you can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. You try to avoid eye contact, watching the ice cubes float around the top of your mixed drink, twinkling as they reflect the firelight.

When you think it’s safe, you flick your gaze in his direction. He’s finally turned, talking to Jungkook. The firelight dances on his face, showing his sharp jawline, the structure of his cheekbones, before casting him in darkness once again.

After a while, Delia comes to sit by you, leaning against your shoulder. His arms and lap now free, Jungkook also unpacks a guitar from the car, and he and Yoongi play together, riffing and vibing. You lean back against Delia and close your eyes, content to listen.

“We should figure out the sleeping arrangement,” Namjoon says from the chair next to you, and you and Delia both turn to look at him. He’d been so quiet, you’d forgotten he was sitting there.

“Honestly,” Taehyung says, his voice flat and a little sour, “I vote to give the couples their own tents. We have the space. And no one wants to see that.”

Everyone does some mental math at that.

“It’s going to be two tents of three and two tents of two regardless,” Hoseok reasons. He sounds like he’s trying to come off like he doesn’t care either way, but it’s obvious he wants a private tent for himself and Suz.

Delia turns to look at you, guilt etched on her face. You had kind of thought the two of you would share a tent. It had somehow not occurred to you that she might want to snuggle with her boyfriend. And Taehyung’s exactly right – you don’t want to share a tent with her and Jungkook: those two can’t keep their hands to themselves for a minute.

So your options seem to be: tent with Delia, tent with Delia and Jungkook and get a free show, or tent with two of Jungkook’s friends that you don’t know super well.

Cool.

Delia is giving you puppy-dog eyes now. “I’m sorry,” she whines. “Can I puh-lease do a tent with Kookie?”

“You want to put me in a tent with two of these guys,” you clarify flatly.

A chorus of objections rises from around the circle.

“We are very nice,” Seokjin asserts, brows furrowed.

“You should be honored to listen to Namjoon snore all night,” Taehyung tells you, also trying to look severe, but his lips twitch.

“I am wounded,” Namjoon says, clutching his chest dramatically.

“You can join ours,” Jimin tells you quietly. While everyone else hurries to tease you, he seems to sense that you’re having some actual trepidation about the plan. “It’s me and Tae – we’ll give you a lot of room. He always ends up snuggling with me anyway.”

“Hey!” Taehyung calls. “Way to put me on blast, dude!”

“Is it true, or is it not true?” Jimin demands, and Taehyung pointedly looks away, tipping his cup to take a drink. “Exactly.”

Del is still sticking her entire lip out, begging.

“God, fine,” you say, exasperated. “But I swear if we have to hear you-.” You let the threat go unsaid and she reaches up to squish your cheeks affectionately.

“You’re my favorite best friend ever,” she coos, your whole face squeezed between her thumb and fingers.

“Tdank youf,” you try to say.

“And I’m your favorite, too,” she says.

“Andf yer muh fay’rite tchoo,” you say.

Satisfied, she releases you.

“That was hot,” Jungkook announces.

Suz levels a finger at him. “Douchebag jar,” she demands.

“The jar isn’t here!” Jungkook protests.

Suz shakes her head. “I don’t care. Hand over the dollar, douchebag.”

Jungkook grumbles, but starts digging in his pockets.

You all spend another half hour around the fire, the guitar music slowly fading out as the boys get tired – or tipsy. Conversation loops through time as you share stories from when you were little kids (tv shows you all remember from Saturday mornings, common household dynamics, who had the scariest mom) up to your college years (first time getting properly drunk, the worst professors you’d ever had, crazy roommate stories). You’re all laughing so hard your stomach hurts, pointing at each other and shouting as you find things you have in common.

“My mom forgot me at the mall once,” Taehyung admits as he chuckles, and Jimin and Hoseok howl, doubling over in their chairs. “Literally left me in the parking lot.”

“I know this story!” Jungkook shouts between bouts of laughter. “She didn’t forget you, you got out of the car!”

The laughter doubles in volume. Taehyung’s eyes are squeezed shut as he laughs, his grin taking up half his face. Jimin pounds his knee with a fist, gasping for breath between cackles.

“My parents did forget me at the grocery store,” you pipe up. The boys take deep breaths, whining as they try to stop laughing so they can listen, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of their eyes.

Delia looks at you, eyes wide with recognition. “I remember that. You were like twelve!”

“Wow, really?” Namjoon asks. “Usually when parents forget a kid, they’re little.”

You shake your head, smiling at the ridiculous memory. “I’m one of six kids,” you explain. “My mom always did a headcount, but she forgot my sister had a friend with her. It was really my fault for getting distracted.”

“Six?” Taehyung echoes. “That’s wild. Where do you fall in the line-up?”

“Third oldest,” you tell him. “I have an older brother and an older sister, then two more younger brothers and one more little sister.”

“I could never,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “I’d lose two kids every time we went anywhere.”

“Too bad, baby,” Delia jokes. “I want ten.”

“Ten!” Jungkook shrieks, practically pushing her off of his lap. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Namjoon are sharing the second three-person tent, and it’s not much later that they take one of the lanterns and go to set up their sleeping bags. You expect them to come back to the circle when they’re situated, but when Yoongi unzips the front of the tent and emerges, he heads down the path towards the bathroom buildings instead, his toothbrush in hand. Jin follows him, and then Namjoon joins them after returning the lantern to the picnic table for someone else to use.

“Should we get ready, too?” Jimin asks. You look at Taehyung to see his response, but they’re both looking at you.

“Am I Tent Leader?” you joke, surprised. Delia groans, booing at you.

“You can be if you want to,” Jimin shrugs. “I know you’re in an uncomfortable spot having to share with us when you don’t know us that well. I just want to give you a little agency.”

“Yes,” Taehyung says, tone playful, nodding enthusiastically. “Agency. That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

“You were not,” Jimin kicks at him.

“We can set up if you want,” you shrug. The boys rise, grabbing the lantern that Namjoon had left on the table, and you head to the car for your sleeping bag and overnight bag.

The boys have taken the middle and the right side of the tent, leaving you the left third. The lantern hangs from the top of the tent, casting long shadows as you all maneuver around each other as you set up. Twice, you bump into Taehyung as you both circle your areas, getting everything just right. You both mutter apologies, and once, he rests his hand lightly on your elbow, as if to steady you even though the collision had been quite gentle. You face burns and you sit heavily on your sleeping bag, digging through your overnight stuff in search of a toothbrush and some pajamas.

“Namjoon-hyung!” Jimin calls through the tent wall.

“Yeah?” Namjoon calls back from the last tent in the line.

“What time do you want to leave in the morning?”

There’s silence as Namjoon considers this. You locate your toothbrush, your pajamas, a hairbrush, and a pair of slide-on sandals. You remove your sneakers and slip these shoes on, bundling up the rest of your goodies and heading back out towards the fire, making sure to zip the tent behind you.

The circle is full of empty chairs now, the fire burning low. There are lights inside all three tents now, shadows visible as the people inside move around.

“Probably we should be on the road by seven,” Namjoon says from inside his tent, and Jimin makes a noise to indicate he heard but doesn’t love what he’s hearing.

“Del?” you call. “Or Suz? Either of you want to walk down to the bathrooms with me?”

“Oh,” Suz says, sticking her head out of her tent with Hoseok. “Yes, me, please. Will you wait while I get my stuff?”

A few minutes later, the three of you make your way down to the buildings, stepping carefully in the dark. Behind you, you can hear a few more of the guys coming.

You pee and brush your teeth, changing into your pajamas. They’re a short and t-shirt set, but the material is thin, so you opt to leave a bra on. Damn, you hate to sleep in a bra, you haven’t had to do it since college. But you just feel a little less weird about the tent situation that way.

When you return to the campsite, Yoongi is pouring sand over the top of the fire to put the rest out. Jungkook is moving his guitar case back to the back of his car, the headlights illuminating the trees in the distance. Delia waits patiently at his side, the keys in her hand.

“You got it?” you ask Yoongi as you pass by.

“Yep,” he says easily. “It’s out. All good.”

You head back into your own tent. The lantern has been removed from the top, but Taehyung’s got a gigantic flashlight turned on, and it sits in the middle of the tent with its beam aimed at the ceiling. Taehyung is inside his sleeping bag already, in the middle.

Right next to yours.

Of course.

Who needs sleep anyway, right?

You settle into your sleeping bag, staring at the blue ceiling above you. A moth flutters against the nylon fabric, wanting to escape.

You fish out your phone and check to see if you have any service. You have one tiny bar, so you try to see if you can get a text to your mom to go through, to let her know you made it safely. You probably should have done that when you’d arrived. Oops.

“So, are you excited for the mountain?” Taehyung asks, startling you so much that you drop your phone on your face, spluttering.

“Fuck, ow,” you whine, covering your smarting nose with a hand. You can hear the rustling of Taehyung’s sleeping bag that indicates that he’s moving.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice a lot closer than it was a second ago.

Taking a steadying breath against the stinging pain at the center of your face, you remove your hand. Taehyung has wormed his way out of his sleeping bag and kneels next to yours. He’s peering at you, brows furrowed with concern. He’s holding your cellphone out to you in one hand, and you reach out to take it. Your fingertips brush his, soft as moth-wings, before pulling away again.

“I’m fine,” you say, voice hushed. He’s so close to you.

The zipper of your tent suddenly slides up, and the moment – if it was a moment, and not just your overactive imagination – is broken as Jimin makes his way back inside. Taehyung goes back to his space, and you all settle in. After confirming that everyone is ready, Taehyung turns off the big flashlight, pitching you all into darkness.

You lay there, staring up, letting your eyes adjust, listening. You can hear gentle rustling outside the tent – branches in the breeze, tall grass bending with the wind, maybe even birds or bats. You can hear the low timbre of someone’s voice a few tents away – Namjoon or Yoongi, talking quietly with the other guys. You can hear the faint sounds of music – another campsite that hasn’t settled in for the night yet, though they’re thankfully pretty far away by the sounds of it. You can hear Jimin moving his feet back and forth inside his sleeping bag, the deep huff of his breath as he gets sleepy.

Closer, you can hear Taehyung breathing, soft and slow. You want to roll to look at him, to see if there’s enough light from outside that you can see his closed eyes, the slope of his nose, the pout of his pretty lips. But god forbid he could see you looking, you’d die of mortification. Instead you keep looking straight up, your breaths slowly coming to match his long inhale, his slow, whistling exhale.

Eventually, the chatter in your mind melts into gibberish, and then darkness, and you lose yourself to sleep.

When the alarm on your watch buzzes to wake you, your first coherent thought is that you must have made a mistake when you set it. Outside the tent it’s bright, but your eyes and your body are telling you it is way too early. You open one bleary eye to see that, yes, it is in fact the time you wanted to get up. You wanted to eat a little bit and pack a backpack before the hike, and you know the guys wanted to get an early start before it gets too hot.

You roll over, expecting to find yourself face to face with Taehyung. Instead, it’s clear that he abandoned his sleeping bag in the middle of the night and currently has one arm and one leg draped over top of Jimin. You smile, endeared.

You sit up as quietly as possible – though, you have a feeling you could be as noisy as you want and not wake those two – and start shifting through your big duffel bag. You find athletic leggings, a purple sports bra, a tank top, and a pair of thick socks – what you don’t want is blisters from your hiking boots halfway up the Red trail.

You gather the clothes, as well as some toiletries, and make your way out of the tent.

Seokjin and Namjoon are already up, sitting at the picnic table.

“Morning,” Namjoon calls.

“We made cowboy coffee,” Seokjin tells you. You feel a spark of excitement, but then he continues with a cheerful, “It’s terrible!”

“I guess I’ll pass, then,” you say with a little smile. “Did you use an egg?”

“Tried,” Namjoon corrects. “We tried to use an egg.”

You shake your head, still smiling. “Better luck tomorrow, cowboys.”

After getting dressed and ready down in the bathrooms, you head back to your tent to throw your stuff back in your bag. The boys are still conglomerated into one shape, but Taehyung seems to be at least partially awake now. Jimin, not so much.

“Morning,” Taehyung croaks, one eye barely open.

You can’t help your tiny smile. Who let him be so cute? “Good morning,” you tell him. “Are either of you coming on the hike? We’re leaving in about twenty minutes, if you are.”

Taehyung closes that eye again and groans loudly in protest, which in turn wakes Jimin, who whines and stretches. Still smiling, you shake your head and head back out to the picnic table, knowing you’ll need some food if you’re going to tackle a mountain today.

As you’re eating a protein bar and a yogurt, the rest of the crew wake up, filtering in and out of the tents and down to the bathrooms. Delia waves at you sleepily on her way by, and Suz a few minutes later. Taehyung shuffles past, eyes still mostly closed, hair messy. He’s followed by Jungkook and Hoseok.

When you’re done eating, you pack a backpack: water bottles, granola bars, first-aid kit, bug spray – the works.

You take two cars to get to the trailhead. Jungkook drives you, Delia, and Taehyung. Hoseok drives himself, Suz, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Seokjin, as promised, is staying at the campsite and Jimin isn’t even awake yet.

It’s slow going – Yoongi was right, it’s steep. A lot of the trail isn’t even dirt, it’s big rocks, and you’re using your hands for balance as you make your way from one to the next.

“I think you’d have an easier time without that big backpack,” Delia tells you, then teasing, “Did you think we were going overnight?”

You frown at her. “Don’t come crying to me when you run out of water and want one of my four extras. Or when you’re hungry and you want freshly sliced strawberries.”

This gets Taehyung’s attention. “You brought strawberries?”

If it had been Jungkook, or – hell – even Yoongi, you’d probably have said, “Yes, and I’ll share if you’re very nice to me today.” But it’s Taehyung, so what comes out of your mouth is just a barely audible, “Mhm!”

He graciously ignores your inability to speak, happily telling you, “Strawberries are my favorite.”

Delia comes to your rescue. “Y/N always shares, don’t worry.”

“Everything I packed is for the group,” you agree, getting yourself under control.

The group stays close together, helping one another up as the sun rises and the air grows hotter. Often, the guys will climb a new ledge and turn around to help pull you girls up. Jungkook helps you a few times, and Yoongi, and Taehyung; his fingers linger on your wrist as you lean your weight forward to help propel you up and over.

Only one of these makes your heart flutter like a fool.

You all take a break about halfway up (according to Jungkook), sitting on some rocks by the trail’s side, passing around water bottles and – yes – the tupperware full of strawberry slices.

“It’s going to feel amazing to go in the lake later,” you muse, wiping sweat from your forehead.

“Oh god, I can’t wait,” Delia agrees, closing her eyes, daydreaming of jumping into the dark water.

“I can’t wait to eat,” Jungkook counters.

“You literally said that with a mouthful of food,” Yoongi points out.

“This doesn’t count, it’s just fruit,” Jungkook says, waving a hand. “I want meat.”

The whole group titters at this, and he rolls his eyes. “Whatever, I want protein, is that better?”

“Not really,” Suz tells him lightly, still giggling.

Taehyung nudges you as he passes back the strawberries, which are gone but for a few slices. “Thanks,” he says. “Those hit the spot.”

“What else is in the magic bag?” Jungkook asks, peering over.

“Uh,” you say, unzipping the top and shifting it around to look. “Granola bars, mostly. You want a peanut one?”

He makes a grabby hand and you toss him a bar, which he catches deftly. You drink some water, enjoying the coolness of the shady spot. A guy with a dog passes you all on the trail, coming down from the top, raising a hand in friendly hello. The guys bum-rush to pet the dog.

“We should probably get moving,” Suz says after a minute of this, glancing at her watch, breaking up the dog party. “If we want to be at the top before noon.”

The rest of the way up goes much like the first half – a slow, careful pace and a lot of helping each other up and over rock ledges.

Near the top, you lose your footing. You’d braced a foot near the edge of the ledge you were trying to climb, but your foot slips and your body follows. You slide with a yelp, and someone steadies you by cupping your elbow with a firm hand, another high on your back.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” he says, voice deep enough that you have to try not to shiver. The rest of the group doesn’t seem to have noticed that you two paused.

“Thanks, Taehyung,” you say, a little breathless. The slip had kicked up your adrenaline and your heart pounds in your stomach, in your fingertips, at the edges of your vision. “Shit. That scared me.”

“Go carefully,” he tells you, something firm and insistent in his tone. He climbs the ledge that you had slipped on and turns, holding out a hand to you. You take a quick breath and grab his hand, scrambling as he pulls you up to join him.

“Thanks,” you say shyly, and he gives you a grin and a salute before turning and following the group up the path.

When the trail levels out, leading from dirt path to flat rock expanse, you all rush out to see. The horizon seems forever away, hundreds of miles unfolding below you in ripples of green. The view takes your breath away, and you walk from side to side of the flat area, trying to see each angle. The rest of the group fans out, doing the same, phones coming out of pockets as everyone starts snapping pictures. The couples take some together – you act as photographer for Delia and Jungkook, as is your usual duty when third-wheeling them anywhere. You take a few of your own, trying to capture the way the foothills start as rolling hills in the distance, building in height and frequency as they near the actual mountain-range.

“Holy shit, wow,” you breathe, creeping closer to the edge, where you can see the lake. It looks literally magical from here, like every folk story you grew up on could really be true. It gives you the feeling that ancient societies, with their strong ties to the earth and its natural processes, were really the ones who got it right.

“It’s really something, right?” Taehyung asks. You’re not sure when he came up next to you – you’d been enthralled by the view, lost in your thoughts as you tried to think about how to describe the way the road cut through the trees like a ribbon, the way the lake glittered and winked in the sunlight.

“It’s so beautiful,” you say, so enraptured by the view that you forget to act like a clown in his presence.

“Let’s take a group picture!” Suz suggests, pulling out her phone. There are a few other hikers enjoying the view, and Suz has no problem getting a young couple to agree to take a picture of your group. You all congregate near the edge – but not too near. You’re painfully aware that in the bunch, Taehyung ended up to your left, and he rests his arm lightly across your shoulders. On your right, Delia wraps an arm around Jungkook’s waist and leans her head on his shoulder cutely.

“One funny one?” Suz suggests.

Delia and Suz are both climbing onto their boyfriends backs, as the rest of you try to think of poses.

“Wait!” Taehyung cries, laughing. He’s laughing so hard he can barely get the idea out. “We’re an even number! We should all do it!”

“What?” Suz asks, confused.

Jungkook’s caught on, and he starts to giggle too. “Tae, who are you offering to piggyback - Namjoon?”

Taehyung’s practically snorting now. “Absolutely not, have you seen how big he is these days?”

Yoongi’s shoulders shake as he laughs. “I’ll go on Namjoon’s back – that’ll be fucking funny.”

Everyone hurries a little, aware that a stranger is waiting for you to get situated so she can take your photo and be on her way. Taehyung turns to you, still giggling a little.

“You’re okay with going on my back, right? I guess I should have asked first,” he says, a little apologetically.

“I’m okay with it if you are,” you say with a shrug. “I’m not the one who has to lift a whole person.”

He waves a hand like it’s nothing and turns and squats so you can climb on. You hold his shoulders firmly, trying not to feel them too much, and squeeze his sides with your knees. He reaches back and hooks his hands behind your knees, giving you a little bounce to get you both comfortable and situated as he stands.

“Hurry up,” Namjoon huffs. “Yoongi’s heavy.”

The four guys decide to make faces like they’re exhausted, while those of you behind held up – including Yoongi – cheese and give peace signs out in front.

“I can’t wait to see this,” Delia giggles as you’re all lowered back to the ground. The hiker hands Suz her phone back. You all crowd around to take a look, sputtering with laughter as you take in how silly it is.

You hate that you notice how good you and Taehyung look together. You just look natural together, like you belong.

When you’re all rested and done taking pictures, Namjoon heads the group back down the way you came; the Blue trail that you’ll do tomorrow is a loop, but Red only goes up and back.

You fall into a kind of trance as you follow the pack back down. Your feet seem to move on autopilot, and you let your mind wander. You’re excited to swim when you all get back down – after eating a big lunch, of course. You wonder if the beach will be packed with families. This beach is only open to those who have paid for campsites, so hopefully it won’t be too -

A loud cry in front of you startles you back to reality. You gasp out loud as you process that Suz is on her hands and knees just below one of the ledges. She must have missed the step or tripped.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Jungkook asks, hurrying over. Hoseok is already there too, trying to assess the damage.

Suz has tears on her face by the time you catch up. The boys have helped her roll to sit. Her palms are scraped and one of her legs is bleeding a lot from a long gash, but it’s her other ankle that she clutches. You’re slinging your backpack onto the rock in front of her without really thinking.

“Back up,” you tell everyone, and they shuffle to make room. You’ve got tons of first-aid experience from your job, and you can tell already that her cut will need stitches. But there are other concerns here, too.

“Alright, Suz, I know it hurts but you’re okay,” you tell her gently. “What hurts the worst?”

“My ankle,” she says, still holding it. “I slipped on the edge there and-.”

You tune the explanation out, eyeing her ankle – which has already started to swell – and the cut.

“Wipe your hands off as best you can and let me clean them – quickly,” you instruct. Once you’ve wiped her hands with an alcohol pad – she winces, but doesn’t complain – you give her a large square of gauze.

“Hold that on top of your cut,” you tell her, pointing to the bleeding gash. “Press hard, and don’t let up on the pressure, got it? I’ll wrap your ankle – I’m gonna have to take your shoe off.”

She follows directions, wincing again as you do what you need to do to get her ankle wrapped up in an ace bandage. Hoseok hovers behind her, face ashen, his hands on her shoulders.

“Is it broken?” he asks.

“Can you turn it in a circle?” you ask her, just to be safe, but you have a feeling it’s just sprained. She can, and you shake your head.

“Not broken,” you confirm. Of course, only an x-ray can tell for sure - and with tiny ankle bones sometimes an MRI is needed. But the range of motion is a good sign. Everyone is standing in a semi-circle around you three, exchanging anxious looks. A group of four hikers on their way up stop, inquiring if your group needs help.

“We’re okay,” you tell them over your shoulder. “We can get her back down. But thank you!”

The gauze has been pretty saturated, so you give her a fresh one and tape it into place. Honestly, the cut is what you’re the most concerned about.

“We’ll have to carry her the rest of the way down,” you tell the guys. “You should definitely take turns if you need to, and we need to be really careful about going down over the rocks.”

“You guys, I’m so sorry,” Suz moans, covering her face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung says immediately. “Let’s just get down safely, okay? No one’s upset with you.”

“Shit happens,” Jungkook adds.

“Hobi, you want first dibs?” Namjoon jokes.

The guys help Suz teeter on one foot until she’s up on Hoseok’s back. She carries her own abandoned sneaker. You remember Seokjin telling you you’d need good treads for this trail, and it’s clear she didn’t have that. You pack the first-aid kit back into your backpack and stand.

It’s much slower going the rest of the way. The group basically stops still every time the trail requires hikers to climb down a ledge, everyone helping to make sure whoever is carrying Suz makes it without incident.

It takes over twice as long to get down the mountain than it did to go up. You load into the cars – Hoseok very gingerly setting Suz in the front passenger seat – and head back to camp.

“She’s going to need stitches,” you announce to your car, as soon as the doors close. “I didn’t want to say it while we were still hiking and freak her out, but it’s seriously true. Someone needs to take her into town, like, immediately.”

“Hobi will take her,” Jungkook assures you from the driver’s seat. You relax, settling back and closing your eyes. You feel exhausted; swimming sounded so good earlier, but now that you’re all coming down from the adrenaline rush (not to mention having climbed a mountain) all you can daydream about is a nap.

Luckily, the drive back isn’t far at all. Hoseok’s car beats yours back – you have a feeling he sped the whole way, nerves acting up over his injured girlfriend. Jimin and Seokjin are at the picnic table, and it looks like Yoongi and Namjoon are filling them in on what happened. Hoseok and Suz are still in the car, talking seriously.

When Jungkook puts the car in park, you hop out, going straight to Hoseok’s door and knocking on the window so he’ll lower it.

“You need to take her into town,” you tell him seriously. He turns and gives Suz a look that says, see? Clearly, she’d been arguing that she didn’t need to go.

“Seriously, Suz,” you tell her. “That cut needs to be cleaned and you’ll probably need some stitches in it. And it wouldn’t hurt to get your ankle x-rayed. I don’t think there’s a break, but even if there’s not you might need crutches and some stronger painkillers.”

Her face crumples a little. “I don’t want to leave the trip,” she says, voice very small. “I was looking forward to this for months.”

“You can come back,” you tell her gently. Seokjin is on his way over to the car, his face serious.

“Hobi, are you going to the hospital?” he asks. Hoseok looks at Suz, face pleading. She sighs in defeat, pressing her lips together unhappily. Hoseok turns back to the window, nodding.

“Yeah, I’m going to drive her to the emergency room in town.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jin offers. “That way you don’t have to sit alone while they take her for x-rays and all that.”

“You don’t have to,” Hoseok says, but Jin waves him off, heading to the backseat.

You all crowd around the car to tell them goodbye, backing away when Hobi shifts the car into reverse.

A tentative silence falls over you.

“We need to eat,” Jungkook reminds you, breaking the solemn silence. “Should we make sandwiches?”

The sandwiches, and the chips, fruit, and cookies that accompany them, do the trick – you can feel the group perk up after a good meal. Taehyung and Jungkook show off the pictures from the top to Jimin – who seems like he hadn’t been awake long before you’d all returned. He laughs riotously at the ones of the girls and Yoongi being carried piggyback at the top. Yoongi really hammed it up, opting for a flower cup pose instead of the agreed-upon peace sign. You can’t be mad, the result is too funny.

“I don’t know about anyone else,” Yoongi announces, once his sandwich is gone, “but I need a fucking nap.”

“I was thinking about finding a place to read,” Namjoon says, eyeing the trees near you.

“I’ve been waiting all day to hit that beach,” Delia says. Reason Number 347787 that you love her so much.

“Yes,” you say emphatically. “Beach.”

“Well,” Jimin says, “you’re welcome to walk down to this beach. But Jungkook and I were talking yesterday about going cliff jumping? The place isn’t that far.”

“Is that safe?” you ask.

At the same time, Delia says, “How hard is the climb to the top? Some of us already climbed a mountain today, Park Jimin, instead of staying in bed until one in the afternoon.”

“It’s not hard,” Jungkook assures her. “I’ve gone before – it’s an easy slope up. Plus we don’t have to spend the whole time jumping – we can do it once or twice and then just swim around and relax.”

“Is it safe there?” you ask again, your question having been overlooked for his girlfriend’s.

“Oh,” he says, “yeah. I mean, I’ve gone there a lot. You have to be careful, obviously, like this is not a good drunk activity. But if you’re not being stupid, it’s safe.”

This doesn’t really placate you as much as you’d like, and your stomach stirs nervously. But at the same time, you’ve never done cliff-jumping before, and you’re not sure you’ll get the opportunity again any time soon. So, when the guys and Delia head into the tents to grab their bathing suits and towels, you do the same.

There are only five of you going, so you take one car. Jungkook is right when he promises it’s close – it’s only about a five minute drive once you’re off the campsite property. Jungkook’s phone dings as he parks, and he reads aloud the text from Jin, letting you all know that Suz is being stitched up at the moment, and her x-ray is coming next. You all agree to come check for an update in a few hours, and Jungkook leaves his phone locked in the car.

“Do you want to jump first, or swim a little first?” Jimin asks the group as you load out of the car. There are six more cars in the small, gravel parking lot, but no people near them.

“Should we get used to the water first?” Delia asks. You feel a little better to hear the nervousness in her voice; you don’t want to be the only scaredy-cat.

The body of water you’re at isn’t the same lake as the campsite, though they are close together. Instead, Jimin informs you all as you walk up the path, this is an old stone quarry.

“The water’s much deeper,” he explains. “That’s why it’s safe to jump from so high – no chance of it being too shallow.”

The water is – no joke – as black as ink. You’ve seen dark muddy water, and deep blue ocean before. You’ve never seen anything like this in your life.

Jungkook drops his towel and dives right from the rocky ground you stand on, surfacing with a splutter seconds later.

“It’s cold,” he warns, and you and Delia exchange a look.

“It won’t be so bad once we adjust to it,” she tells you.

“You have to just rip the band-aid off,” Taehyung says to both of you. “Jump in and start swimming – the sooner you’re moving, the sooner it’ll feel less like death.”

“Don’t go into sales, Tae,” Delia tells him flatly. He gives her a wink and runs towards the edge, hitting the water with a splash. Jimin follows closely behind, and they both shriek upon surfacing, making Jungkook howl with laughter.

“Oh,” you say, eyeing the boys, “I do not want to do this, suddenly.”

“Let’s jump and race to the other side,” she suggests.

“Seriously!” Jimin calls to the two of you. “Once you’re in, it’s fine!”

“Okay,” you tell her, the idea sounding like it will work. “To the other side and back?” You eye the distance – it’s not that far. The jumping area is clearly off to the left – you can hear the shouts and whoops from that direction.

She counts you down and you both take it at a run, diving in. The cold assaults you from every single direction as you hit the water, and it’s dark under there as well. You can’t help but shriek, the noise escaping you with a jet of bubbles. Once you surface, you launch to a fast front-crawl. Delia’s got a bit of a lead on you, but you don’t care – the goal is to not feel the cold anymore.

Once you get back to the boys – the race aspect pretty much forgotten – you do feel better. You push your hair out of your face and adjust your suit, treading water lightly as everyone chats and splashes.

Slowly, you all make your way in the direction of the cliffs, your pile of towels waiting for you back where you started. Once you get around the bend, it’s very clearly set up. The jump that’s clearly most popular looms above you, a line of visitors waiting for their turn showing you clearly how the trail to the top slopes gently down to where you are. Then, further down, there’s a much higher jump. No line there, but you see one young woman fly from the top, screaming with excitement until she hits the water, too far away for you to hear the splash.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Delia says, eyeing the higher cliff.

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook hurries to assure her.

“Don’t worry, Del,” Jimin says. “Us chickens can stay down here with the kids.”

“Let’s do this one first anyway,” Jungkook suggests. “It’s fun to all jump together.”

When your turn comes, you all wait for the two teenagers who jumped before you to clear out from underneath. You all link hands, jumping at the same time with shouts and squeals. You’ve got Delia on your left and Jimin on your right, and you hold them tightly.

The jump isn’t too high, and you’re airborne for what feels like only a second - quick enough for your adrenaline to sing, for a smile to light up your face, for someone to your left to let out a whoop, and then you’re surrounded by cold and dark again.

You lose Jimin, the force of the water knocking his hand from yours. You’re still clinging to Delia tightly when you surface, laughing.

You tread water and look around, doing a quick headcount. Once everyone’s visible, you all make your way to the low area where it’s easy to climb out, ready to go again.

You do this for a while; you go as a whole group a few more times, then in smaller groups or alone. Jungkook abandons you altogether to go to the high jump, but no one else joins him.

“Go with me!” Delia tells you, and you two link arms, rushing to the jump. The boys do spins and flips, getting some scattered, half-hearted applause from the people still in line.

After some time, Jungkook returns, flipping his wet bangs out of his eyes. “It’s incredible. This is kiddie hour over here, that’s a jump!”

“No,” Jimin says flatly, and swan-dives from the ledge, literally escaping the argument like a secret agent.

“I’m with Jimin,” Delia says, her voice regretful. You know she loves Jungkook’s adventurous, thrill-seeking side, and usually she’s up to tag along. It’s part of what makes them a good couple, in your opinion. But Delia’s not the strongest swimmer, and you think the water factor is what’s tripping her up today. “We’ll stay here, right?” She looks at you like she’s already counted your support.

But the thing is… you’re considering the higher jump. It was your whole reason for coming, wasn’t it - to make sure a rare opportunity doesn’t pass you by? To take advantage of a chance to be brave, to put it on paper, to collect the receipts?

“I’ll try,” you say, your voice startling even yourself. Delia’s mouth drops open, but Jungkook grins, all squished like a bunny.

“Y/N! Yes! Come on, I’ll show you the path.”’

“Bye,” you tell everyone. “If Jungkook gets me killed, please say nice things at my funeral.”

Delia shakes her head. “I’ll say you were a giant fool.”

“My Nana won’t appreciate that,” you tell her with a pointed finger, and then scurry to catch up with Jungkook.

The path up slopes more sharply than the low jump, but at least it’s just a flat path, no rocks or ledges to climb.

“Hey, Jungkook, this is safe, right?” you ask, nerves having a field day. You have so much adrenaline going, you’re almost dizzy from it. And you know it’ll be worse at the top.

“As long as you’re being careful, yeah,” he tells you. “There’s puddles along the top, so don’t run before you jump or you could slip. As long as you have a clean jump, you’ll be perfect.”

“There aren’t, like, rocks at the bottom?” you ask nervously.

He shakes his head. “It’s safe. I’ve been coming here for practically a decade.”

You believe him, but something in your nervous system must not, because your hands are trembling.

Too bad, you tell your body. That’s fine, be scared. I’m doing it anyway. I want to be able to say that I did.

Your resolve crumbles when you stand at the ledge and look down at the pitch-black water below.

“Oh,” you groan, “I don’t know about this.”

“It’ll be fine,” he tells you. “You can watch me.”

That is not going to help, you think, but you don’t argue.

“I’ll jump and I’ll come right back up to check on you,” he suggests. “If you’re still not sure, we can walk back down.”

You nod, and he sets up to jump. He lets out a series of whoops and shouts as he falls - and he falls for a bit - before the water silences him. You watch him surface, further out than he’d landed, and start swimming back to where he can climb out.

You are not sure you can make your legs move. You are not sure you won’t hit a rock on the way down, that they won’t have to helicopter in medics for you. You imagine for a second the phone call your mother will get.

A voice breaks you from this reverie - thank goodness, because it was getting bleak.

“Are you going to do it?”

You turn fast, almost slipping in the puddles Jungkook had warned you about. You throw out your hands to steady yourself, and he reaches out as if to steady you too, but doesn’t actually touch you.

You thought it was Jungkook, somehow getting back to the top in record speed. Instead, it’s Taehyung.

“Why are you up here?” you ask him, your voice still sounding a little like you’re gasping. Your adrenaline right now is seriously no joke.

He eyes the ledge behind you. “I think I want to do it. Are you going to?”

“I was,” you say, “until I got up here and started thinking about all the rocks.”

He nods. “The rocks don’t scare me,” he says, “it’s just the height. I don’t… I don’t do great with heights. My heart is pounding just from standing here and we’re not even at the edge.”

You laugh a little with relief. “You should feel mine,” you admit. “I think I might pass out?”

You both scoot just a little closer, and you look at the general spot that Jungkook had disappeared. He seemed to think it was fun.

“What if we go at the same time?” Taehyung suggests. You’re both peering over the edge, and he’s reached out a hand, his fingertips butterfly soft, just barely resting on your upper arm, as if he’s prepared to pull you back if you slip. You’re not sure he knows he’s doing it, being protective. It’s so sweet it makes you want to scream.

“What if I land on you?” you laugh nervously.

“I’ll go further down,” he says, pointing. “Plenty of room between us. We can just time it together.”

You chew on your bottom lip. “But that means I can’t chicken out,” you say with a little laugh. “Or you’ll have jumped without me and I’ll look like a dick.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding, “yes, except I also can’t chicken out or I will look like a dick. It’s honestly the only way to trick my brain into doing this. Otherwise I’m going to stand up here until Jungkook comes to save me, and that will hurt my ego.”

You laugh again. “Okay,” you say finally. You’re up here, right? You’d made the decision to do this already. You just need to have a little bit of faith that things will be okay. Sometimes you gotta jump, your Nana always told you, and this time - for the first time - it was literal.

You can’t wait to tell her about this later.

You both set up, Taehyung moving a good seven feet to your right.

“Ready, beautiful?” he asks, looking sideways at you, and you almost fall off the fucking cliff. Beautiful?

Whatever your face does in response to this, he ignores it, beginning to count down - “Three…. two… one!”

No time to think about it, no time to second-guess, no time to scramble backwards and cling to a tree: you have to jump.

The feeling is insane - nothing beneath your feet, your stomach flying up to your throat; on your right, Taehyung shouts. Your feet pedal in the air on instinct, and then you slam into the water.

It hurts a little, honestly, and you have to tug your bathing suit bottoms out of your ass before you start pulling and kicking your way back to the surface. When you break out on the top, sucking in a large breath, you find Taehyung treading near you.

“That was wild,” he grins, shaking his head, his wet hair almost covering his eyes.

“Beautiful?” you repeat, your voice a little shrill.

He laughs, a deep belly-laugh, his smile crinkling his face. “Want to go again?” he asks, side-stepping your small meltdown.

This sobers you a little. “I do,” you admit. Now that you’ve done it once, it’s way less scary. You feel pretty confident you won’t leave here on a backboard.

You both swim to the area you can climb out; someone, at some point, installed metal rungs into the rock, like a ladder.

“Careful,” Taehyung warns you, “you’ll slide like crazy on these.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, slowly working your way up. Taehyung treads in the water behind you, waiting his turn, and you hope he’s enjoying the great view of your ass as you climb. Since you’re beautiful today and all.

He climbs out behind you and pushes his wet hair back, out of his face, which renders you speechless again, the cockiness leaving your body in an instant. You vow not to speak as you start up the path to the top, knowing you’ll trip over your words if you try right now.

“Hey,” he says. “I wanted to say… you were really cool earlier today.”

“I was - what?”

He grins again, like he finds your spluttering so endearing. “With Suz,” he explains. “You just… I don’t know, you just took charge and got everything sorted. It was really cool.”

You don’t know how to respond to this; you can feel your face heat up even though the rest of you is shivering from the quarry water.

“Thanks,” you mumble, eyes on the path.

He laughs a little. “It was like seeing a whole different side of you,” he says. “Normally you’re like… well, like this, all shy.”

“I’m not shy,” you lie, like a liar.

“You seem shy,” he counters playfully. “But I’ve been informed by some secret spies that when I leave you’re much chattier. Care to weigh in on that?”

“What is this, an interrogation?” you demand. “What spies? I’ll kill Jeon Jungkook, I swear to God -.”

He laughs again, a repetitive giggle that has him sucking for breath between each gleeful noise. “It wasn’t Jungkook. But I may have been informed by a little birdie that I make you nervous.”

“Oh, my god,” you utter, absolutely humiliated. Jimin? Had to be Jimin if it wasn’t Jungkook. He had overheard Delia talking to you at the campsite last night. He’s dead. He should have remembered that you’re sleeping in the same tent later. You will absolutely have revenge.

“Can I ask… why?” Taehyung presses, something gentle in his voice, and you realize belatedly that maybe his feelings are a little hurt. This makes you feel kind of bad, and you decide with a sigh that you probably owe him some honesty at this point. You’ve already embarrassed yourself roughly six hundred and fifty two times in the past two months… can you really make it any worse? Might as well go all-in.

“I mean. Look at you?” You laugh; Taehyung does not.

“That doesn’t mean anything though,” he says, and he sounds… disappointed. “I could look… I could look like anything but still be, like, a bad person. Or problematic, or mean, or boring. What I look like isn’t me.”

Something in your chest twinges, and you hurry to do damage control.

“No, I know that,” you assure him. He probably thinks you’re fucking shallow, now. “Believe me, I know that. It’s just that… I’ve also been around you enough to know you’re not - mean, bad, anything like that. Definitely not boring.”

“So, what am I?” he challenges. You’ve reached the top again, and you both stand, suddenly too involved in this tension-filled back-and-forth to care about jumping.

“Nice?” you suggest. “Silly? Creative?”

He scoffs, giving a playful eye-roll, the tension starting to diffuse a little. If you’d offended him or upset him, it seems like he’s starting to let you off the hook. “I’m not always nice.”

“You’re nice to me,” you point out.

“I am nice to you,” he agrees lightly, eyes twinkling.

“Who aren’t you nice to?” you tease.

“People who kick puppies. People who chew with their mouths open. People who spoil movie endings. That kind of thing.”

You laugh, and he grins at you.

“What else?” he asks, still teasing, but his tone is lower, his voice deepening. Your body reacts with a shudder that you hope you can blame on the chilly water clinging to your body, dripping from your hair. Heat blooms low in your belly and you force yourself to ignore it and focus.

“What is this, Taehyung’s Compliment Hour?” you complain.

“You have enough material to fill an hour?” He cocks an eyebrow. “I’m flattered.”

You laugh despite yourself. “Douchebag Jar,” you tell him, and he laughs.

“That thing is going to overflow before we go home,” he says.

“Yeah, and it will single-handedly be from you and Jungkook.”

He laughs again at this, and then gives you a look that you can’t really decipher.

“So you’re weird around me because I’m nice?” he says. “Just trying to understand.”

You almost jump from the cliff just to avoid this embarrassment. “I’m not weird around you,” you grumble.

He gives you a look.

You shuffle your feet, eye the water, squirm under his waiting gaze. “We established that already,” you finally give, and he cracks a small smile.

“Well for what it’s worth,” he says, turning to finally head closer to the edge, “I think you’re nice, too.”

A noise behind you startles you and you turn to see Jungkook jogging up the path.

“Hey!” he calls. “Glad I caught you. I just checked the time and I think we should head back to the car to see if there’s an update on Suz.”

“Okay,” Taehyung says easily. “One more jump?”

“We have to get down there somehow,” you agree.

The three of you line up - spaced far enough apart to not land on each other - and get ready to jump. Jungkook is in the middle, but you find yourself leaning to see past him, to catch Taehyung’s eye as you ask, “Together?”

He nods. “Together.”

The adrenaline of the jump, the feeling of falling, the bracing cold - none of them hold a candle to the feeling you get, like lightning straight through your heart, when he smiles at you as he says this.

Back at the car, you all stand shivering and chattering, wrapped in your towels as Jungkook checks his phone.

“They’re waiting for the x-ray results,” he tells you, reading the screen. “It should be soon.”

“Let’s head back,” Delia says decisively. “I want to shower while it’s still light out.”

“Yes,” you agree - you hadn’t thought about this, and you’re glad she has. “Me too.”

You all dry off as best you can before climbing back into Jungkook’s car. The drive back to camp takes only minutes, which is lucky because your leg is pressed against Taehyung’s leg, your elbow against his elbow, and you’re cold from the lake and his body is radiating heat, and that’s only one of two reasons you want to absolutely climb in his fucking lap. You’re saved from yourself as the car pulls into the space at your campsite.

What had that you’re nice too meant? Was that Taehyung-language for I like you too?

When Jungkook parks and you climb out, Yoongi and Namjoon turn to look at you. True to their word before you’d left earlier, Yoongi’s hair looks like he definitely just got up, and Namjoon is still holding the book he was reading, his finger in between the pages to save his spot.

“How was it?” Namjoon asks as you get closer.

“Incredible,” you say, even though the question had been geared more to the guys. “Incredible.”

You head to the tent to grab your shampoo and other toiletries for the showers and meet Delia back outside her tent.

“The water in there better get hot,” she grumbles as she zips her and Jungkook’s tent back up. “I’m fucking freezing.”

There are four shower stalls, so you take two right next to each other. You close the curtain and set your items down on the bench, organizing what you need now and what you need when you get out.

As the water heats up and as you shampoo, you chat over the wall with your best friend, filling her in on what happened at the lake.

“Oh my god,” she says. “Wow, so he basically admitted he’s into you!”

“Did he?” you ask. “Did he really, though?”

“Yes,” she says firmly, and you can hear her squirt shampoo or conditioner onto her palm. “You had me at the beautiful thing - that’s classic Taehyung, he was absolutely letting you know. Wow, I wish I could have witnessed it. I haven’t seen Taehyung turn it on to flirt with someone since before - you know. His ex.”

You frown. You’d forgotten that when Delia and Jungkook got together four months ago, Taehyung was still in a relationship. She hadn’t been there the night you’d met him - the night Delia met Jungkook. But Delia had been around them as a couple a few times in that first month with Jungkook - Jungkook’s relationship with her blossoming right as Taehyung’s was crashing and burning.

Full of doubt, you go quiet. After a minute, she says your name quietly, and then once more - insistently - when you don’t answer.

“Yeah,” you say flatly, so she’ll shut up.

“I’m telling you,” she says, as she turns the water off on her side of the wall. “He doesn’t just do stuff like that unless he means it. Okay?”

“Yeah,” you repeat, reaching for your towel. “I hear you.”

When you two return to camp, you’re informed that some decisions have been made in your absence.

“So I just hung up with Hobi,” Jungkook tells Delia, and you listen intently. “Suz is determined to come back tonight and finish the trip. Hobi and Jin both think she’ll change her mind as her pain meds wear off a little.”

“What does that mean?” Delia asks flatly.

Jungkook explains. “Her ankle isn’t broken but the sprain is bad. She’s on crutches, and she’s on some pain-killers - and antibiotics for the cut, too. Hobi thinks she’s going to end up wanting to go home - what fun can she have camping on crutches, and in pain?”

“That sucks,” you say sympathetically. You’d liked Suz, you were hoping she’d be back.

“It does,” Jungkook agrees. You notice that most of the guys are absent - you wonder if they’re all down in the mens’ showers. “Anyway, we were thinking we’d meet them all in town for dinner at a restaurant? That way she can eat with us more comfortably and she can make her decision from there.”

“Nowhere fancy,” Delia asserts. “I don’t have a curling iron here.”

“Sure, sure,” Jungkook says distractedly, eyes on his phone screen. “None of these places are that nice anyway.”

The drive into town is quite a bit longer than the drive to the quarry. Luckily - or maybe unluckily, you can’t decide - you end up in the car with only Jungkook, Delia, and Jimin; Taehyung hopped in with Namjoon and Yoongi.

“You,” you greet Jimin with narrowed eyes. His eyebrows rise as he clearly tries to remember what he’s done to piss you off. “What did you say to Taehyung?”

Delia turns all the way around in her seat to watch the carnage.

Jimin laughs nervously. “Oh, that,” he says.

“Yes, that,” you snarl. “I know where you sleep, Park Jimin! One sleeping bag over from me!”

“Okay okay okay-,” he says, hands up, like he might have to actually protect his face from you, “but hear me out!”

“Yeah, you’d better have an excuse!” you yell. Delia cackles.

“He started the conversation!” Jimin explains. “He said something to me about how you get all - y’know -.”

He’s too polite to say whatever descriptor he thinks fits the spot.

“So you said what, exactly?” you ask him with narrowed eyes.

“I was sticking up for you!” he cries. “All I said was that when he’s not around, you’re very fun and normal!”

Your eyes go wide. “Did you use the word ‘normal’?”

He seems to look left and right for a nonexistent escape route. “Okay, but! Y/N! He likes you and he was feeling like you didn’t like him because you wouldn’t talk when he was around! I was helping!”

This makes you go still. Delia slaps repeatedly at your knees in excitement. “He what?” you ask, your voice echoing in your ears. “Really?”

“I told you!” Delia squeals. “You didn’t believe me!”

“Yours was a projecture!” you protest. “I need cold, hard facts!”

Jungkook groans, rolling his eyes. “God, it’s like seventh grade in here. You like each other! Fucking do something about it!”

“No need to curse at me,” you mutter, but you turn away from Jimin, deciding he gets to live. For now.

The restaurant is casual, thank goodness, and the trio that came from town have already procured a table. Your car gets there first thanks to Jeon Lead-Foot Jungkook, and you choose seats.

“How are you feeling?” you ask Suz right away. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“I feel great,” she laughs. “Whatever pain-killer they gave me was-.” She uses her fingers to make a chef’s kiss.

“Yeah, she’s a little high right now,” Hoseok tells you all quietly. “Extra strength Tylenol from here on out, babe.”

The group from Namjoon’s car files in, and it surprises you not at all when Taehyung slides into the empty space beside you, giving you an easy smile.

“Did we miss anything?” he asks.

“Just that Suz is feeling those pain meds,” Jungkook supplies.

The waitress comes by and takes everyone’s drink order before sweeping away again, off to her next table. You and Delia take bets on whose cocktail will be more brightly colored (it’s hers - bright blue). The atmosphere is relaxed, the lamps glowing orange above the table, the chatter around the restaurant a comfortable background noise. Your drinks come and you order food.

“So,” Delia says to the whole table, over the top of her very blue drink, “you all know how hot I find it when Jungkook boxes, right?”

“We are painfully aware,” you tell her.

“Too aware. Please stop telling us,” Taehyung deadpans.

Jungkook covers his face with a hand, already knowing where his girlfriend’s story is going. It’s clear by the grin on her face that she’s been waiting to tell this story at his expense.

“Well the other night,” she says, pausing for dramatic effect, “he literally started boxing in his sleep. Like, three in the morning, we’re both dead asleep, and he starts punching my shoulder like I was the punching bag.”

Everyone cracks up, and Jungkook starts spluttering in protest, trying to defend himself.

“This is a fun game,” Suz says. “What’s the weirdest - nonsexual - thing you’ve ever had a partner do in their sleep?”

You all think hard, chuckles and giggles floating around the table as you consider options.

“My ex talked in her sleep, you’ve all heard those stories,” Namjoon starts. “She’d straight up give lectures in her sleep. It’d be the middle of the night and she’d be reciting archaeology facts. Sometimes I’d google what she was talking about - it was always true! She knew her shit.”

You all laugh at that, and you pipe up, “I had that, too. A guy I was… seeing… he’d talk in his sleep and if I answered him, sometimes he’d keep the conversation going. It was so fucking funny. One time he told me in his sleep that I had to fix my Pokemon stance.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jimin asks, covering his giggles with a hand.

“Like, how you stand when you throw the ball, I think?” you giggle.

“What was wrong with your stance?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows raised.

“I asked him that!” you say, pointing at him in appreciation for asking the Important Questions. “I asked what’s wrong with my stance and he told me - still in his sleep! - that my toes were too pointed.”

Everyone’s laughing, but Taehyung shakes his head through his chuckles. “There’s no way. There’s no way that happened.”

“I wrote it in a note on my phone so I’d never forget!” you tell him, laughing so hard now that it’s hard to breathe. “I swear, I have it written down word for word!”

“I win this one, hands down,” Hoseok says, “and the culprit is right here.”

“Oh my God,” Suz laments. “Don’t tell that one, it’s so embarrassing!”

“This game was your idea,” Hoseok reminds her, grinning. “Those in glass houses should not throw stones.”

“Now you have to tell us,” Yoongi says, swirling his drink in his glass.

“Okay,” Hoseok says, gleeful, as Suz shakes her head, laughing. “So it was the middle of the night, we’re fast asleep, and suddenly this sweet girl next to me screams ‘fuck!’ - like something is wrong, like she’s scared, and she leaps out of the bed.”

“I hate you,” Suz groans, covering her face.

“I, of course, turn on the light and also jump out of bed, because obviously something is trying to kill us,” Hoseok continues, ignoring her, giggling through every word. “And I’m frantically asking her - what’s wrong, what’s wrong, what happened?”

Everyone’s giggling a little in anticipation as he builds the story.

“So then!” he continues dramatically. “She tells me something bit her - so I’m thinking there’s a spider in the bed and we both start, like, looking in the blankets for it. Please remember that it is ass o’clock and we’ve been asleep for hours already.”

“Oh my god,” you say, giggling wildly. You’re dimly aware that your knee is touching Taehyung’s under the table, but you don’t move it.

“Then I notice that something on the sheets is red, and being half-asleep I assume it’s blood from whatever bit her, and I scream ‘you’re bleeding!”

Jungkook is practically crying, and Suz takes this moment to point out, “I really blame you for the hysteria. If you hadn’t yelled that, we would have calmed down.”

Hoseok continues to ignore her, too caught up in the magic of story-telling. “So, obviously, I start trying to look for where she is bleeding from. And I start checking her arms and her back and asking her where does it hurt, and where did it bite you and she goes very suspiciously still and quiet...”

“Oh my god,” you repeat. Next to you, Delia snorts loudly, trying to muffle herself.

“So she’s standing there, very silent, and then she goes - in this teeeeeny little voice - ‘I think maybe I was dreaming’.”

Everyone howls, Hoseok especially.

“So what was on the bed?” Yoongi asks through quiet giggles.

“Like, string? Fuzz? I guess off of my pajamas?” Suz says, laughing despite herself. “God, this is so embarrassing!”

Conversation dies down naturally when your meals come, but you notice with a tummy-flutter that Taehyung doesn’t remove his knee from yours, even when he sits up straighter to work on his food.

After you eat and your plates are taken away, you all sit around sleepily as you finish your drinks.

“So, I guess it’s not really a good idea for me to come back to the campsite,” Suz announces, frowning deeply.

“It really isn’t safe,” Namjoon reasons gently. “You’re on crutches and it’s dark. You should be resting and healing - it’s hard to do that in a sleeping bag. Your body will get better faster if you let it rest well.”

“Yeah,” she says glumly.

“We’ll come pack up our stuff and we’ll head home,” Hoseok says quietly, giving the top of her back a supportive rub. “I know you’re disappointed, but it’s really what’s best.”

“I know,” she says sadly. “I know it is.”

You slowly file out of the restaurant and back to the cars. The drive back is quiet; you’re all exhausted from your day, even sleepier still from the drinks you’d had with dinner and your full bellies. You lean your head against the window, watching as the buildings of town get more and more spaced apart, until they disappear altogether giving way to dark trees. Behind the wheel, Jungkook sings quietly under his breath. Delia splays a hand on his knee.

Back at camp, Seokjin helps Hoseok start taking down the fourth tent. Yoongi eyes the empty fire pit.

“Should I bother?” he asks the group. “Or are we all just going to bed?”

“I wouldn’t mind a beer before we go to sleep,” Namjoon muses, and there’s a murmur of assent.

“Fine,” Yoongi says, but then adds threateningly, “but I swear to God if I get this whole fire going and then everyone goes to bed in fifteen minutes, I will be seriously pissed.”

“I’m gonna get changed,” you tell Delia quietly. “You want to come down with me?”

Down in the dimly lit bathroom building, you change into sweatpants and a hoodie - the night’s gotten chilly - and brush your teeth for good measure before you two head back up the hill to the campsite, arms linked, flashlight guiding you along the grassy path.

When you get back, Hoseok and Suz’s tent is down and he’s working on taking the poles apart. Yoongi seems to have the fire almost going - Jungkook kneels beside him next to the circle of rocks, both of them blowing on the embers to get them to catch.

You grab a water bottle from the cooler and settle into the chair next to Delia’s, chatting quietly. Eventually, Hoseok finishes collecting his and Suz’s belongings, and loading up his car. You all gather around the passenger side window to tell them goodbye.

They both give solemn waves goodbye as Hoseok pulls out of the campsite, heading down the road towards the exit.

You all sit around Yoongi’s campfire for a while, chatting some but mostly just zoning out, enjoying the crackling fire, the cool night air, the vague notes of music floating from somewhere else on the campground.

Seokjin is the first to bed, followed by Namjoon. Delia and Jungkook go next, disappearing into their tent with little waves goodbye.

You’re tired - you’re exhausted - your arms and legs almost buzzing with how much physical activity you did during the day. You want to go to sleep, but that requires moving. You’re half tempted to ask Jimin to carry you. You finally muster up the strength and tell the remaining guys goodbye, slipping into your tent and crawling into your sleeping bag. You fall asleep before you even zip yourself back up.

You awaken again, groggy, mouth feeling like cotton, and reach for the water bottle you’d brought. You can’t have been asleep for that long - you can still hear Jimin’s quiet giggle and the low tones of Taehyung and Yoongi’s voices as they talk quietly by the fire.

You lay there, trying to get comfortable again, trying to chase the heavy feeling of sleep, but it’s dissipated entirely. Instead, your ears strain to pick up anything Taehyung is saying, and your mind starts replaying the moments you’d shared at the quarry earlier, the feeling of his knee warm against yours at the dinner table.

Finally, you give up, sitting up completely and running a hand over your hair. You pull on the sneakers you’d left next to your sleeping bag and unzip the tent, stepping out into the flickering firelight.

The boys stop talking abruptly when they hear the zipper, and you wonder with a flush if they’d been talking about you.

“Did we wake you up?” Jimin asks as you shuffle to the cooler for another water bottle.

“I don’t think so,” you say, voice a little froggy with sleep. “I just woke up and now my brain thinks we took a good nap.”

“I hate when that happens,” Yoongi says, nodding.

Then they all just stare at you, and you at them. You definitely interrupted some sort of secret boy conversation.

“Okay,” you say, giving a huff of a laugh. “I’m going down to the lake. Just gonna… sit in the sand for a little.”

“You’ll be okay down there?” Jimin asks, a little concern in his voice. “Bring a flashlight.”

“I will,” you say, to both parts of his sentence. You grab one of the heftier flashlights off the picnic table and shove your water bottle into your hoodie pocket, heading down the hill to the lake.

You take your sneakers off at the fence at the edge of the beach, not wanting to get them full of sand. You place the flashlight beside them, so you’ll find it when it’s time to walk back. Barefoot, you continue down the beach until you pick a spot five or six feet back from the water’s edge. The water laps gently at the hardened, wet sand before you as if the lake is a sentient, breathing thing. It inhales and exhales, and so do you.

You’re not even startled when Taehyung materializes next to you, dropping onto the sand less than a foot to your left. Part of you expected him the whole time, you think.

“Hi,” you say wrly, giving him a sideways smile. He returns it sheepishly, as if he knows just how predictable this move of his was.

“Hi,” he parrots.

“You really don’t like me being down here by myself, huh?” you tease.

He blanches, eyes widening. “Do you want to be alone? I can go back up -.”

“No, no,” you reassure him. “I was just teasing.”

He looks at you, and you can tell even through the poor lighting that he’s uncertain, feeling like he’s encroaching.

“Seriously,” you say again, reaching out to touch his arm, lightly so you don’t scare him away. “I’d like you to stay. Please stay.”

He relaxes a little, and you both turn to look at the sky. It’s cloudless, and the stars are plentiful; you want to drink the entire sky in, stock up, because when you all drive back to the city at the end of this trip you’ll only see about a third of this until your next adventure. Light pollution is no joke.

For a while you just watch the sky in silence. Then Taehyung says, voice hushed, “I keep thinking about today. Doesn’t this morning feel like four whole days ago?”

You laugh a little, the sound gentle. “It does. The cliffs feel like forever ago, and the hike? That was last week, right?”

He laughs again. “I can’t believe we’re still awake,” he says, and just the thought makes him yawn, which makes you yawn.

“I napped,” you point out.

“You were only in there for like twenty-five minutes,” he says. “That barely counts.”

“I feel pretty exhausted,” you admit. “But it’s nice down here. I like this.”

He gives a hum of agreement. A minute later, when the breeze kicks up and you shiver despite the hoodie, he reaches an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him. You hesitate for the barest second, and then lean over, letting him pull you flush against his side.

You lean your head on his shoulder and he rubs his thumb along your shoulder blade absently. You can barely feel it through the hoodie and the shirt you have underneath it, but your pulse sings anyway.

“Taehyung,” you whisper. You don’t look at him; you don’t want to chicken out. You keep your eyes on the stars, on the tiny lights across the lake where there are cabins.

“Hm?”

You give a little sigh. You know asking might break the spell. But you don’t like games. And Jungkook was right - this isn’t seventh grade. You’re adults.

“What’s happening here?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “What is this?”

He squeezes your shoulder once, and you turn to look up at him, waiting.

“You know, twenty-four hours ago you were barely speaking complete sentences to me?” he points out. “And now you’re just throwing down the gauntlet at my feet, like it doesn’t even scare you?”

He’s right. You consider this for a second.

“It’s different now,” you muse. “Something’s… different.”

“It’s you,” he says, like he’s trying to convince you. “You’re different today, and I really like it.”

“You didn’t like me before today?” you say, just to tease, just to twist his words on him a little.

He lets out a noise of protest. “Of course I did - in theory. You have to admit, it’s hard to like somebody who doesn’t speak! Did I think you were gorgeous? Absolutely. But I couldn’t really get to know you.”

“And what’s the verdict?” you prod.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he quips, and you elbow him playfully in the ribs. “Okay, okay!” he laughs. “I think you’re… really capable. And smart, and funny.”

“Alright,” you say, face burning as you fight a smile. “I get the idea.”

“Do you?” he asks, turning to look down at you seriously. “I want to make sure you know - I really like you.”

You smile down at your feet, wiggling your toes happily in the sand. He lets you get away with not answering, the tiny smile you’re trying to fight telling him everything he needs to know for now. He pulls you close by the shoulder again, and you listen once again to the song of the wilderness around you: the bird calls, the rumble of car engines on the highway in the distance, the lake’s sounds as the tiniest waves roll up to the shore, Taehyung’s steady breathing beside you. The sand is soft between your toes, and Taehyung’s body is firm and warm next to you, even as the lakeside wind blows.

Finally he turns, pressing his face close to your hair. You shiver as he whispers damn nearly in your ear, “We should go back.”

You shudder again, and you know he feels it. You hope he’ll chalk it up to the wind, to the nighttime chill.

“Okay,” you say, proud of how even you keep your voice. Your hands are itching to touch him, to have him keep whispering in your ear like that, to feel his hands on you, to feel his mouth on you.

You should go back. You need to get yourself under fucking control.

He stands and holds out a hand for you, deftly pulling you to your feet in one motion. You both take a second to brush sand off, and then you head back towards the fence where you’d left your shoes and the flashlight. He’s left a pair of slip-ons right next to yours.

You’re still standing at the fence, eighty percent of your brain trying to tell you down, girl, when the remaining twenty percent takes over. Out of your mouth comes the words, “You know… in the car today, Jungkook said we needed to stop acting like idiots and do something about it. Those were his exact words.”

Taehyung freezes, one shoe halfway on, and looks at you calculatingly, as if he’s trying to determine if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying.

You are.

Fucking kiss me. You want to scream it.

“Do something about it?” he murmurs, something low and dangerous making its way into his voice. He takes a step closer to you; you fight another shiver. This suddenly feels like a game of cat and mouse, and you hope you’ll get caught. “You have any suggestions?”

You shake your head, smiling. “Don’t do that. Don’t tease me.”

He cocks an eyebrow, then reaches forward and brushes some hair away from your face. His touch is tender, but his voice comes out like steel when he asks, “You think this is teasing? What’s wrong, you’ve been wanting this?”

“For longer than you think,” you admit, and he smiles, brushing a thumb along your cheek, his hand resting lightly along your jaw. His eyes are on your lips.

“Better not keep you waiting then,” he murmurs and dips his head to kiss you.

You drop the heavy flashlight and it rolls away from you back down the path. You both ignore it; you’re focused entirely on his lips and how electric they feel against yours, how solid and sure his mouth is against yours, how you’re trying not to gasp from sheer want as his hand on your jaw twitches like he’s trying to keep it relaxed.

You make a happy sound and relax into him as his mouth opens for you; his free hand falls to your waist, then sinks to your hip, his fingers pressing against the fabric of your hoodie.

Either he’s pulling you in or you’re leaning in or both, but there’s no space between your bodies anymore as he presses his tongue into yours, a contented noise escaping him as he does. It’s lips and teeth and tongues for a long, breathless moment, your arms hooked around the back of his neck as you press your front along his.

The hand he’d been resting on your jaw slides around, cupping the back of your neck as the kiss deepens. You whimper lightly into his mouth, wanting more of his touch, and he groans in response, his hand on your hip slipping under your hoodie and pressing against the same spot on your hips that it had been, the skin of his palm hot against yours.

He breaks away from your mouth and kisses a line down your jaw towards your neck, a heart-pounding pattern of teeth then tongue then lips as he makes his way lower and lower.

You breathe out once through your mouth, going almost boneless under his hands, and he pulls you tighter against him as he starts to work his way up to your mouth again, reversing the path he’d just taken.

You capture his mouth again as soon as it’s close enough, sliding your tongue against his insistently. You curl your fingers in his hair and tug, and he moans against you, the sound making your knees go weak like jelly. God, he sounds good; you want to do a thousand different things to keep him noisy like that.

The hand under your hoodie begins to move slowly, tracing light patterns along the curve of your hips, up to your waist, then higher towards your ribcage as his mouth continues to make you dizzy. Goosebumps rise along your arms, the back of your neck. You remember - about the same time that Taehyung figures it out - that you hadn’t thrown a bra on since the thick hoodie kept you pretty covered. He gives a tiny growl into your mouth as he brushes his fingers along the underside of your breast once, then twice, before cupping it fully, his thumb rubbing the same languid circles that it had the entire way up your side. You gasp at the contact, breaking the kiss. He takes this opportunity to press his forehead against yours, whispering hoarsely, “So soft.”

You hum in answer, reaching for his mouth again, already missing it. He passes his thumb over your hardening nipple, feather-light, and you shudder under the touch, your fingers tightening in his hair. You can feel him hardening against your belly - god he��s all legs, so tall it’s unfair - and you roll your hips against him. He groans, low in his throat, lowering both hands to your ass and pulling your hips flush against his, upping the friction. You wind a leg around the back of his, trying to get closer, trying to angle it so you get some relief, too, trusting him to hold you up. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and worries it with his teeth, smiling against you when you moan in response.

“Thought you’d be shy doing this, too,” he tells you quietly, still smiling.

You’ve thought about this? you want to ask, but instead you say, “Told you. Something’s different.”

He kisses you again, chaste, sweet, then once more for good measure. You release his hair from your deathgrip, he rubs your ass one time like he’s telling it goodbye and pulls his hands away. You’re both breathing hard.

“We should go up,” he says, regret in his voice. “I’m sure they’re talking about it already.”

“‘Kay,” you say, looking around the dark for the flashlight and water bottle you’d dropped. Would you like to keep kissing? Definitely. Is your body screaming for sleep? Yes. You can’t have both. “Do you see my stuff?”

You find the flashlight first and use it to locate the water bottle in the grass. Once you’re situated, he holds out his hand, linking his fingers with yours as he leads you up the path. Your heart pounds, not settling down even a little. In fact, holding his hand while you walk makes your heart race more than having his hands up your shirt had.

As soon as you’re close enough to see the campfire, Taehyung drops your hand and steps ahead, leading the way up to camp. You aren’t sure how to take that - was it coincidence? Or did he want to make sure that no one saw?

Jimin and Yoongi seem to be putting the fire out as you walk back into camp, a lantern on the picnic table your only real source of light. Taehyung stops to talk quietly with Jimin, so you slip past him and head to the tent. You give a quick glance over your shoulder before you enter, but no one is paying any attention to what you’re doing.

You’re still awake in your sleeping bag when the door unzips again and Taehyung and Jimin step through. Jimin’s got one of the smaller flashlights to guide them as they take off their shoes and get ready for bed. You watch Taehyung through the semi-dark, and he catches the glance, stilling.

Then, he gives you a tiny, secret smile as he turns and settles into his sleeping bag.

It’s reassuring. You think to yourself - as Jimin turns off the flashlight and leaves you all in the dark - about what Delia had said earlier, that Taehyung doesn’t play games with women, that he was straightforward with his intentions. You think about his words down at the beach less than an hour ago - I want to make sure you know, I really like you.

Whatever the weird moment upon arriving at camp was, you’re sure you’ll be able to talk about it tomorrow. You have faith that it will be okay.

You can see the general shape of him in the dark, your eyes adjusting, but you can’t see his face. You think he’s facing you, based on how close his breathing sounds. Your eyes are begging to close, your body aching for sleep. But your heart is aching too - to feel close to him again, to touch him again, to feel his warmth again.

Feeling a little silly about it, you inch your hand closer to his section of the tent, the nylon cool and stiff beneath your fingertips.

And then you aren’t touching nylon anymore.

Taehyung huffs a very quiet laugh through his nose as he feels your fingers touch his, grasping them quickly before you can pull away. Once he’s sure you aren’t going to take your hand away, he loosens his hold, gently rubbing his thumb along your knuckles, back and forth. You’re smiling in the dark, grateful that no one can see you as you grin like a fool as you give his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

He was reaching for you, too.

Things will be okay.

You awaken in the morning to something alarming: someone is standing in the tent, hovering over you. You scramble to sit, gasping in alarm, and then somebody says, “Hey, hey, it’s me, it’s okay.”

“Jimin!” you scold, pressing a hand against your chest, where your heart is pounding. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Next to you, Taehyung grumbles in his sleep. He strikes his foot out in Jimin’s direction, but he’s stopped by the confines of his sleeping bag.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jimin whispers, but he’s fighting a smile. “It’s just that you two were…”

You flush as you remember how you’d fallen asleep - your hand in Taehyung’s hand, both of you reaching across the dark to find one another. Was it possible neither of you had let go in your sleep?

Jimin seems to read an answer in your face to a question he hasn’t asked out loud. “Wow,” he says, rocking on his heels. “Wow.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, looking sideways at Taehyung’s sleeping form. You want to talk to Taehyung before you talk to anyone else about it. Jimin raises his eyebrows at you, amused, but he does what you ask and slips through the door of the tent.

You sit there for a minute, quietly, waiting to see if Taehyung will wake up and talk to you, but you hear his breathing deepen and even out again, so you decide it’s a lost cause. You dig what you want to wear out of your bag and follow Jimin’s footsteps out to the campsite.

Everyone else is up already, which makes sense seeing as they all went to bed before you and Taehyung went on your little field trip down to the lake.

“We’re leaving to hike in about ten minutes,” Delia warns you.

“I don’t know how I feel about a hike,” you admit. Your body feels like it’s been hit by a train. You’re sore from all the activity, but you also only got a few hours of sleep.

“It’s totally your call,” Jungkook tells you, “but this one is really easy. It goes up that ridge-,” he points across the lake, “then along the top, and then down the other side and around the lake to stop back here. It’s a really low slope, no rocks.”

“Basically, we’re taking a very long stroll,” Namjoon tells you.

You consider it for a second. “Alright, I’ll go down and change,” you decide. You make eye contact with Jimin. “You want to see if Sleeping Beauty wants to join us?”

Delia snorts into her fist and Jimin gives you a playful eye-roll before he heads into the tent. You hurry down the hill to the bathrooms, toothbrush in hand.

When you return, everyone seems pretty ready to go. You throw together a less aggressive backpack than you did yesterday - if it’s really a stroll, you shouldn’t need as much to eat and drink - noticing that Taehyung isn’t anywhere to be seen. Either he’s down at the bathrooms, or he told Jimin to fuck off and stayed in bed.

You sit at the picnic table, the wood already warm under your skin even though it’s still pretty early in the morning, and lace up your hiking boots. Delia sits next to you and leans against your shoulder.

“A little birdie told me that you and Taehyung were down at the lake together until after three o’clock this morning,” she whispers, eyes on you accusingly.

“Park Jimin,” you growl, eyes narrowing.

She giggles, then leans closer, lowering her voice even more so make sure the boys don’t hear you. “Nope - Min Yoongi.”

“Why are Jungkook’s friends so fucking nosy?” you grumble.

She elbows you gently. “Well?”

You don’t get the chance to answer, as Taehyung heads back up the path from the bathrooms. You snap your mouth closed and Delia looks at you knowingly.

“Later,” she tells you, standing, her voice making clear that this is absolutely a demand. Or, perhaps a threat.

Since the Blue trail loops around, there’s no need to drive to a trailhead; instead Namjoon leads you all through the campgrounds, your group weaving between tents, waving polite hellos to sleepy campers emerging from their tents to fix breakfast. At the edge of the campground, about twenty paces from the last tent, a large wooden sign announces the trailhead, along with a list of guidelines and a map.

Despite promising a stroll, the guys at the front strike a quick pace, heading up the trail. You’re happy to find that it is a gentle slope, normal dirt (no giant rock ledges), and is well shaded - the woods on either side dense with trees and various foliage.

You and Delia naturally slow down, hoping to get some space from the guys so you can gossip in peace. As he passes on your right, heading up to join Jimin near the front, Taehyung reaches over and gives a light, playful pinch to your side, making you squeal lightly before breaking into laughter.

“Watch it!” you tease, and he grins at you over his shoulder as he continues on.

Delia is watching you with wide eyes. “Okay, I need an update now,” she says.

You giggle quietly, and as you two follow the pack of guys you fill her in on what happened last night - Taehyung straight up saying he likes you, the kissing, how you fell asleep holding hands.

“That’s so cute I might throw up,” she tells you, brows furrowed - the same face Jungkook makes when the food is really good. They’re too alike, those two.

“It was kind of weird, though,” you muse quietly, aware that you have some space between you and the guys, but not that much. “When we got back to camp, Yoongi and Jimin were still up and he literally dropped my hand, like it was definitely a hide the evidence moment.”

She twists her lips, thinking. “But then he held your hand in the tent?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “So, what was that about?”

She makes a noise like she’s considering this.

“I’m just gonna ask him,” you decide. “It probably wasn’t a big deal. But just… I don’t know, I don’t want to do a stupid mixed signals thing. If he doesn’t want them knowing, we should… figure that out.”

“Can I just say,” she says, giving you an affectionate little nudge, “that I can’t believe that you’re just totally cool with that - with just asking him point blank? I think I’d be too scared to just say something like that, I’d be trying to figure shit out all covertly.”

You smile at her. “After the forty foot jump yesterday, nothing feels scary anymore,” you joke. “But… I don’t know. He feels… worth it? If this isn’t going to work, I want it to be because of a real reason. I don’t want this to stall out early because we’re too stupid to talk to each other.”

“I want it to work,” she says seriously, looping her arm through yours. “For both of you.”

The trail evens out, which must mean you’re at the top of the ridge. There’s no cool view from here - you’re still surrounded by trees on either side - but the group stops for a water break anyway.

Delia leaves you when she notices Taehyung heading over and makes her way over to Jungkook, giving his butt a playful pat in greeting. Bless her.

“Good morning,” you say, pressing the top of your water bottle into your lips to hide your stupid smile.

“Good morning,” he echoes, smiling back. “How’d you sleep?”

You shrug. “Pretty good, for the few hours we got. I don’t want to waste our last day here sleeping, but I really might need a nap.”

“We were planning to take the canoes out,” he tells you, “but we checked the weather and we’re supposed to get a pretty good storm after lunch. There’s a whole weather system passing over.”

“Oh shit,” you say, frowning. “That’s kind of a bummer.”

“We’ll make it fun,” Jimin says, shamelessly jumping into the conversation, clearly not having the sense to give you two some privacy the way Delia did. “We’ll be stuck in the tents so Yoongi and I were talking about breaking out the poker set?”

“Yes,” Yoongi says seriously from a few feet away. “Winning money off you dummies sounds like a great way to pass a rainy day.”

“I resent that,” Taehyung says with a playful frown.

“Sounds like the universe really wanted me to have a guilt-free nap,” you say, smiling. “And with the sound of rain? Heaven.”

“We should keep going, if everyone’s ready,” Namjoon tells the group, eyeing the sky above you. He’s right - the sun that had shined down on the campsite as you’d woken up is gone, heavy clouds filling the space between the treetops. “We want to get down there in time to put the tarps up.”

The trail leads you down the other side of the ridge and down to follow the natural path around the far end of the lake. At the front, Seokjin and Namjoon discuss how many tarps you have between you, and where they should go.

“We’ve got four, I think,” Namjoon says, counting in his head.

“One for each tent, and then maybe we can rig something to keep the campfire dry?” Jin says, thinking aloud.

When you get back to the campground, it’s already starting to rain just a little - a drop here and there.

You all get moving with the tarps, covering the tents first and tying them to the stakes that are already hammered into the ground, and then trying to set up the stand-alone cover for the fire. You manage to get it all done before the rain starts in earnest. Delia checks the radar on her phone.

“This is just the beginning of the system,” she warns you all. “It’ll be light rain like this for a little bit and then we’ve got the actual storm cell coming.”

Beyond the campground, the wind tangles with the trees, the leaves flipping over. Your Nana always told you that was a sign of a storm; you wonder absently if that’s true or if it’s just an old wives’ tale.

You all eat nonsense for lunch - a few people make sandwiches, some grab fruit, a bag of chips is passed around as the rain changes from “light” to “steady”. The tarp over the campfire seems to be holding up, and you all crowd your folding chairs under it, trying to stay dry.

“I think if Hobi and Suz had stayed, we wouldn’t all fit under here,” Jungkook observes, from practically your lap. The tarp definitely helps, but it’s clear that as the rain and wind pick up that you all won’t be staying comfortable and dry unless you spend the time zipped up in the tents.

“Who’s in for poker?” Yoongi asks, as he reaches for the cooler, trying to pull it over to the dry area without getting himself too wet.

Jungkook starts to speak and Delia jabs him in the ribs, shooting him a look. He closes his mouth, an amused expression settling on his face.

“I’m napping,” you announce, because this has been your plan all day. “I’m exhausted.”

“Yep, we’ll be napping, too!” Delia says brightly. You snort and she kicks you.

“I’m in for poker,” Jimin says. “I got cash especially for this, and I watched a ton of videos, so you better watch it.” This is directed at Yoongi. “I’m much better than last time.”

“Jimin,” Namjoon says kindly. “Every time you lie, you giggle.”

JImin scowls. “Maybe I’ll laugh when I don’t lie, too, then!”

“Poker’s never really been my thing,” Taehyung admits. “I think I wouldn’t mind resting either. Can I come snuggle with you guys?” he asks Jungkook, eyes glinting as he knowingly makes trouble.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Delia says, rolling her eyes with a grin. “I’m not third-wheeling in my own damn tent.”

You pretty much all rise at the same time, folding up the camping chairs and stuffing them into their little bags. Jungkook collects them all and tosses them in the backseat of his car so they’ll stay dry.

Delia practically drags Jungkook by the hand into their tent, giving you a cheeky wave goodbye. The guys file into the third tent; Jimin pauses and looks at Taehyung. They seem to have a silent conversation - there are some eyebrows and head tilts involved - and then Jimin gives Taehyung a little salute and follows Namjoon into the tent.

Alone, the rain coming down around you, you and Taehyung stare at each other in silence. Then, he’s closing the distance between you, hands going immediately to your hair as his lips find yours. He grunts, barely audible, fingers tightening behind your head as he gets what he wants. You bring your hands up to grip at his biceps, half for balance and half because you love how they feel under your fingers.

He leads you backwards, one little step at a time, mouth working against yours, until you’re both in the rain. You can feel it in your hair, running down his arms and over your fingers, plastering your shirts to your backs. Taehyung doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, kissing you like he needs it to live. Arousal blooms low in your belly, your legs shifting with the onslaught of sparks and tingles and need.

Taehyung tears his lips away from yours long enough to whisper, “I wanted to do that all day.”

“Then you should’ve,” you challenge.

You’ve backed up all the way to your tent, and he untangles his fingers from your hair so you can bend down and unzip the door. By the time you climb in and zip back up, the spell’s been broken a little bit. Taehyung turns away from you, bending down by his sleeping bag to dig around in his duffle bag. Finally, he turns back and tosses a towel to you.

“For your hair,” he explains. “We probably shouldn’t stay in these, we’ll get sick.” He gestures at his wet shirt.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why do I feel like you orchestrated this perfectly? Just for an excuse to take your shirt off?”

He laughs, holding up his hands to mime innocence. “No,” he protests, smiling a little. “I just genuinely couldn’t wait until we got in here to kiss you again. I haven’t thought about anything else since last night. Not even food.”

“So, what happened?” you ask, feeling bold. “We were together all morning - why wait?”

He looks at you like he’s calculating.

“I didn’t know how you felt about it,” he admits, voice quiet. You’re aware that Jungkook and Delia are about three feet away, and only separated from you by tent walls. “Like, in front of everyone. We hadn’t, uh-.” He stops, clears his throat, scratches the back of his neck and peers up at you. “We hadn’t talked about that.”

You’re slowly putting two and two together. “So last night, when we got to camp-?”

His eyes find yours. “What?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. He doesn’t even know, and here you’d been thinking about it all day.

“You stopped touching me the second we were close enough for them to see - I just felt like...”

“Oh!” he says, eyes going a little wide as he realizes how it must have seemed to you. “No! No no no - I just knew I was already going to get teased to hell for following you down there, I didn’t want to drag you into it, too. At least without talking about it first.”

“I guess I appreciate that,” you say, fighting a smile.

He shakes his head. “As if I’d subject you to the chaos gremlin Park Jimin without your consent. And Yoongi acts like he’s above it, but that guy gossips. He’s worse than my mom.”

You giggle a little. Taehyung shivers visibly and says, “Okay, I really do need to change out of this. You should, too. I can- um- I can turn around, if you want, or-?”

He’s babbling a little, and it strikes you that he’s nervous. Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, the guy whose mere presence had made you stumble over words and forget how your hands worked, is nervous about you.

Warmth and happiness rise within you, almost enough to eradicate the chill from your rain-soaked tank top. It’s reassuring, and cute, and it somehow - impossibly - makes you want him even more.

He shuts up, flushing a tiny bit, and reaches for the hem of his shirt. He turns a little, like he wants to make sure you don’t have to look at his belly - as if you hadn’t all been swimming the day before - but you step closer as he pulls the thin material over his head.

“Want to give me a hand?” you murmur. Taehyung’s eyes shoot to yours, unsure. Around you, above you, the rain redoubles its efforts. The walls of the tent shudder and tremble under the onslaught of wind and rain. Distantly, you hear the first rumbles of thunder.

Then he steps the rest of the way to you, dropping his discarded t-shirt to the tent floor, reaching to take the towel out of your hands. He drapes it over his shoulder and reaches for the hem of your tank-top, his eyes steady on yours. He peels it away from your skin, up over your ribs, over your breasts. You raise your arms so he can pull it over your head.

You reach around to undo the clasps of the sports bra you’d worn for the hike, but he swats at your hands, going for it himself.

“This one likes to get stuck,” you warn him, smiling.

“I got it,” he assures you, full of confidence, and he’s right - you can feel the clasp give and then he’s sliding the straps down your arms - one, then the other. He gives it a light toss over to your sleeping bag, and then takes the towel off of his shoulder. He’s been watching you the entire time - for signs of uncertainty, or just because he wants to, you aren’t sure - and he doesn’t stop now as he gently dries your arms, your shoulders, your belly, carefully under and around each breast, then around and down your back.

“How’s that?” he murmurs, dropping his hands.

“Drier,” you smile, “but still chilly.”

“Well, that’s unacceptable,” he says playfully, voice so low. You’re about to shuffle into his arms when you’re surprised by a flash outside. The lightning bolt is followed quickly by a sharp, angry crack of thunder.

You gasp instinctively, then chuckle at yourself. Taehyung smiles at you indulgently and then crouches by his sleeping bag, messing with the zipper. You peer around him to see that he’s unzipping it completely, and then he shakes it out to increase the amount of floor it covers. Instead of standing, he plops down in the center, legs stretched out before him. He looks up at you, head cocked, like a delectable invitation.

Another crack of thunder spurs you into movement, shakes you from your reverie, and you straddle his lap easily, your hands finding his shoulders for balance. He’s kissing you again before you’re even settled in, his tongue stroking yours as his hands splay wide across your back. You shiver into his embrace, your chilly body aching for the warmth that radiates from him. You don’t know if you should blame the cold or the excitement, but your nipples are impossibly hard, and Taehyung moans quietly into your mouth as he feels them brush against the flat of his own chest as you press your body against his.

One hand comes around from your back to cup a breast - the one he’d neglected last night at the lake, as if he’s been keeping score and knows where his attention was lacking. He breaks the kiss to nibble a gentle line down your jaw, his fingers pressing at your flesh, his thumb rubbing circles against the hardened pebble it finds there. When you whine, he turns his head so he can whisper closer to your ear, “Shhh, beautiful.”

You nod, sucking in a quiet breath, and he continues kissing you, continues tracing shapes with his thumb, sending shocks and sparks down the length of your spine as you roll your hips over his.

The storm has found you in full, thunder cracking and snapping above the tent, barely seconds of silence before another rumble gives its reply. Taehyung’s beautiful face glows white and then dark again as lightning strikes somewhere nearby.

The rain and wind act as music, guiding your pace as you continue to kiss. You kiss him until your head spins, until your lips burn, until your core aches. You run your hands up his back, down his sides. He twists under your touch, choking back a giggle, and you realize you’ve tickled him. You place your hands flat over the spot, your touch firm enough to quell the sensation.

“Sorry,” you whisper, giggling a little. He answers you with a kiss, one hand still holding you in place in the middle of your back, the other leaving your chest and tangling in your hair again. You find your hands trailing down his chest, between your bodies, landing on the button of his shorts.

His hand flies to your wrist, and you stop, looking at him quizzically.

He lets out a tiny huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “Sorry,” he says. “Half of me hates myself for this… but, I don’t want our first time to be… on a sleeping bag… in a tent… four feet away from Jeon Jungkook. I want to do it right - do it better.”

You can’t help it - you release a tiny laugh, giggling into his neck. Again - who let him be so cute?!

He leans back so he can peer at you, accusatory. “Are you laughing at me?” he cries.

“No,” you assure him, even though you were, a little bit. “I just didn’t know you’d be so… considerate.”

He pouts adorably, his hands coming to rest on your hips, just above the band of your leggings. “I appreciate the art of romance,” he sniffs defensively and you giggle again.

He gives another defensive sniff at your giggle. Then, almost bashful, he asks, “Lay with me?”

He reaches for a loose blanket from on top of Jimin’s sleeping bag - he’d been cold the night before, stealing spare blankets from the car. You shift off of his lap and he snaps the blanket to spread it out, laying back on his pillow and patting the space next to him. As you slide in beside him, smiling softly, he pulls the blanket up over both of you, rolling to curl up against your back. The feeling of him behind you, warm and solid, is enough to send your mind skipping and singing into oblivion. How can you feel so happy over something so simple?

“Well,” you say quietly, as he brushes some hair off of your neck and presses his lips sweetly to the spot he’d uncovered, “on the topic of romance… last night I asked you what’s happening with us, what this is. You never answered.”

He considers this, tightening his arms around you. “I guess I got distracted,” he admits, still nuzzling the back of your neck, sending goosebumps racing down your arms even though you two had cooled it down. “I’ve been told I have a one track mind. And you weren’t wearing a bra.”

You giggle. “That’s fair,” you allow. “But I’d still… like to know.”

He shifts behind you, warming his legs against yours. Another crack of thunder, further to the east, makes you jump, and he smoothes a hand down your arm.

“I’m pretty open to the options,” he says finally. “I want to see where this goes, but I’m okay with whatever pace you want. If you want to go home and just talk, we can do that. Or if you want to try dating - I mean, I’d like to take you out. If… you want that.”

You reach up to where his hand is resting on your upper arm and lace your fingers together, giving him a squeeze.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I’d like that.”

His hand is reassuring in yours, his arm warm and solid around you. Slowly, you let the cadence of his breathing and the steady pattern of rainfall lull you into sleep.

The morning mood is cheerful and bustling as everyone takes down the tents and packs up the cars, but you feel a bit like you have a heavy heart. While you are definitely looking forward to a real shower and a night in your own bed, you also don’t want to go back to reality, back to work and your apartment and a whole world that until now spun merrily along without Taehyung in it. You want to stay optimistic, but you wonder if going home will pull the inertia away from whatever has started between you.

Your nap the previous evening had been interrupted by Jimin, coming to tell you that the rain had moved on and Seokjin was starting a fire for grilling. He’d squealed, a hand over his eyes, as soon as he saw you two spooning.

(“Tell me you’re not naked!” he’d cried, which of course had gotten everyone else’s attention. And, well, you were - from the waist up, at least.

“Chaos gremlin,” Taehyung had growled as he reached over to grab your bag so you could find a t-shirt, the blanket clutched to your chest.)

Taehyung spends much of the morning needling Namjoon to let him ride shotgun; he’d ridden up with Suz and Hoseok, so he had to ride home in Yoongi’s car.

“My legs are too long for the back seat!” Namjoon protests. “I have to sit like a crab!”

“You love crabs!” Taehyung counters. “And my legs are just as long!”

Namjoon pats him on the head placatingly. “I know you like to think that, buddy. But they’re really not.”

Delia helps you carry the cooler back to your own car, sliding it onto the backseat, and then you both go back to get your bags and camping chairs. Taehyung stands by the backseat of Yoongi’s car - accepting his defeat, you guess - and jerks his head when you catch his eyes.

You toss your bag onto the floor of the backseat, and then shuffle over, pouting playfully.

He gives you a smile and takes your wrist, pulling you closer.

“Why are you sad?” he asks.

“I have to go back to work tomorrow,” you lament.

He laughs out loud. “That’s the whole reason?”

You shrug. “I’m gonna miss Seokjin’s shitty cowboy coffee.”

He crosses his arms, biting on his bottom lip to keep his smile at bay. “That’s why you’re sad, huh? That’s your story?”

You smile up at him, caught in your game. “I guess I’m just hoping we really do see this through.”

He looks at you seriously now, arms coming uncrossed. “We will,” he promises. “I told you I want to take you out. I’ll text you as soon as we’re back to set it up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice small, mouth twisting. “If you say so.”

“Trust me,” he says. He pulls you in for a sweet, soft kiss, then tells you, “Scratch that - I’ll text you as soon as I miss you.”

This makes you laugh a little. “Okay,” you say again. “Looking forward to it.”

He goes to help handle the last of the heavier items and you and Delia do a last sweep to make sure you hadn’t left any garbage or recyclables hiding anywhere. Once everything is certainly squared away, everyone calls goodbye to one another and you all head into your respective cars.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” you say, sticking your phone in its little dock and pulling up your map. “Two and a half hours home.”

“Let’s get it,” Delia grins.

Yoongi’s car pulls out first, then Jungkook’s, and you follow. At the exit, each car stops at a stop sign, then takes a left onto the two-lane highway. As you pull up to the stop sign, a notification pops up on your phone, overtaking the map for a split second.

[10:45 AM] Kim Taehyung: hey beautiful. what are you doing friday night?

(definition graphic by my dearest darlingest @/kookstempo)

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving some form of feedback!

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#fic: TRIP #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung oneshot #taehyung fluff #camping au #s2l #bts x reader

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haeggi · 10 months

Text

while you are dreaming | myg ✓

➔ pairing: visual arts major student!yoongi × culinary arts major student!reader

➔ genre/warnings: road trip!au, camping!au, traveling!au, soulmates!au, best friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, mutual pining (confused feelings from reader), emotional constipation, anxiety, heavy self-deprecation :(

➔ word count: 14.8k

➔ glimpse: you and yoongi embark on an escapade from the bleak realities of your lives. at some point while you are both dreaming, you both experience a moment of epiphany; that you constantly sought each other's warmth for refuge.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

What does genuine happiness feel like?

Happiness. One word. Nine letters. It's a simple word with a simple meaning. With one glance, it's facile to grasp the definition of the word. Yet, it's a feeling arduous and complicated to achieve.

Throughout your time on earth, you always find yourself racing after it. And with every step you take, desperately trying to reach for it, it seems like it is getting further away from you. Just when you think you've got it, it slips from your fingers no matter how much effort you exert to clutch it.

Instead, you fall and find yourself amidst the ferocious waves, smothering your breaths. The vehement pressure constricts around you like a sea serpent, solicitous to drag you down within the trenches. You desperately try to summon your remaining potency, if you even had any left to spare. Alas, the serpent would daunt you, and you let it get into your head, and you stop resisting.

And whenever you wake up on the soft sand of a random beach, the peaks of rays coat yourself warm as if the previous night didn't torment you with perennial cataclysmic storms. Then, you're left to ponder.

Where am I?

What do I do now?

From then on, you start your day again with spontaneity, because you're faced with a huge murky forest that you had no choice but to enter if you wanted to continue to survive.

But on that particular night, in the midst of the devil hours while you lie down again within the darkness of your melancholic room and wait for the raging storm again to devour you, a beacon of light appears in your line of sight.

You rise from the waters that were beginning to submerge you, and you reach for the light, reluctantly enclosing it with your palm.

With a heavy exhale, you answer the call and press the device against your ear.

His warmth instantly instills in your erratic nerves. His mere soft breaths vibrating from the phone and traveling towards you, makes you calm your own breathing.

"Let's run away."

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

The sun is still resting beneath the clouds, and it is blanketed by the grayness of the sky. Your eyes trail after the buildings that you pass by until they are replaced by trees, stilling your breaths until you slowly let the slumber succumb you.

You don't know for how long you're gone, but you feel your consciousness gradually seeping through your system. You notice that the shuddering of the vehicle is miniscule unlike before you went to sleep. It's steady and motionless, and you realize it's the reason why you woke up. Because it wasn't lulling you to sleep anymore.

Stretching your limbs, you release a soft yawn before you fully open your eyes. You are greeted by the cerulean sky, cotton clouds patching it. You let your gaze wander to your right, and you see the sunlight's glow warming your skin adequately.

Finally, you shift your gaze to your left where you are welcomed by his soothing presence. His amiable hazel feline eyes are locked with your round mouse ones. His soft wavy ginger locks is accentuated by the sun's gleam. His hair color contrasts the paleness of his unblemished skin. And finally, his soft pink lips that is curved upward, his charming smile infectious that you can't help but reciprocate it.

The strum of baritone strings fills your ears. "Good morning," Yoongi greets.

"Morning," you mumble back. His kind smile reaches his eyes and you watch him as he reaches for something at the backseat of the pick up truck.

He hands you the paper bag with takeout, and the aroma of hamburgers fills your nostrils. You give him one of the burgers and you both start to eat in silence.

"Where do you wanna go?" Yoongi asks with a mouthful of burger in his mouth.

You blink at his question, mildly confused before you say, "I thought you had a plan in your mind."

He snickers at you, a coy smile painting his lips. "No, you dummy." He pinches your cheek to which you protest, swatting his teasing hand away. "It's not a road trip if we have an itinerary."

You scowl, caressing your cheek that is still puffed because of the burger in your mouth. "Then, why are you asking me where do I want to go? Just keep driving until we see something that piques our interest."

Yoongi hums thoughtfully, tapping the wheel with one hand. "Alright then. But first, we have to make a stop for a gasoline station. We're about to run out. Perhaps, grab a few stuffs from the convenience store too."

You nod your head in acknowledgement. "That works with me." A sudden realization comes into your mind so you abruptly shift in your seat, turning your body to face Yoongi, placing your hand on his arm.

"Wait, how long will this trip be?"

He blinks at you and ponders before coming up with the notion, "Maybe a week?"

A loud gasp escapes your lips. "I only packed enough that would last me for three days!"

Tsking, Yoongi leans towards you and your brows crease in confusion at his action. Realizing that he was reaching for the compartment, you incline back on your seat. With watchful eyes, you follow his every movement as he grunts softly, having a bit difficult time rummaging inside the small space.

"Aha," he finally exclaims, taking his arm out. In his hold is a leather wallet. He smirks at you, lifting the item in front of you.

He tilts his head and declares, "We're going shopping then."

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

Your limbs start to feel too heavy to merely lift as Yoongi continuously pulls you around the clothing store. He keeps taking shirts, pants, and shorts from the clothesline and settling them in front of your body. He would either hum in countenance and shove the apparel in the basket, or shake his head disapprovingly and return the garment to its rightful place.

Nonetheless, you let him drag you around as he pleases because you can't deny that you're starting to get fond of his attention and dedication into picking out the best outfits for you.

But you can't help but wonder loudly, "Does your course teach you fashion too?"

Yoongi doesn't look at you. He holds an over-sized shirt in front of you while answering, "Nope," he pops the p. "But, everyone who takes the course is very meticulous when it comes to their fashion styles."

You hum in understanding, "I see, you were influenced."

He nods, giving you a soft smile. Then, he finally takes the last article, which is a knitted sweater dress, hands you the basket of clothes and pushes you towards the direction of the fitting room.

"Since we're shopping, might as well buy the best ones we can find for you," he states cheekily.

It was impossible to not giggle at Yoongi's merry mood. And who were you to even deny him?

You tried out everything he gave you and you can't help but feel amazed that every piece of apparel you wore suited you. You're awestruck by your best friend's fashion sense. After trying all of them, you step out of the fitting room and you see Yoongi ambling around the store, humming a meaningless tune to himself.

When his eyes land on you, the giddy smile returns to coat his features, and you almost feel yourself melting into a puddle when he skips towards you and asks for your decision.

The gums in his mouth started to appear the moment you told him that you were happy with his choices. The sight of his gummy smile causes you to return one to him.

After a short quarrel about who has to pay, you finally let him to your dismay. But not after making him promise that it will be you who pays the next time you both eat.

As you exit the store, with two paper bags in your hand, you feel Yoongi's fingers interlacing with yours and you shoot a look at him. He seems oblivious of the unfathomable feeling swirling inside you.

Holding hands with him had been awhile, but even in your previous hangouts, this has been a routine with the both of you already. So, you wonder why a certain organ in your chest stopped beating for a second, and resumed to its usual pulsation as if nothing ever occurred.

He pulls you out of your daze through asking, "Where do you want to go next?"

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

Minutes later, you both find yourselves hitting the road while you both belt out every lyric of Getaway Car. Mostly, it was Yoongi who handled the high notes, while you guffaw at him every time his voice ebbs gradually.

The succeeding songs that follow coops you to sway along the beats while Yoongi passionately sings every syllable of each song. You aren't surprised because after all, it was his playlist. Albeit you didn't know most of them, you were still able to lilt alongside, because his exuberance is contagious.

Every now and then he would let one of his hands release the wheel, walloping the air rhythmically. You requite the jubilant smiles he gives you every time your gazes collide.

You don't know for how long you've jammed with the radio but once a gasoline station appears in your vicinities, the energy eventually simmers and you both take your time to calm your breaths.

Yoongi skids the car to a halt and instructs the crew, while you unbuckle your seatbelt.

"I'll head for the convenience store now," you say, departing the vehicle.

Once you receive his nod of acknowledgement, you barrel towards the store with giddy steps, the glass doors instantly sliding open. You grab a basket and start snatching and shoving all necessities in it.

You approach the cashier after evaluating that you've gotten everything. As you drop the basket on the cashier, a hand sneaks its way up below your arm then swiftly shoots something into the basket.

"Lollipops? What are we, five, Yoongi?" You pivot around to face the culprit, who already has a sucker in his mouth.

He takes it out and goads you, "Oops, this one's been opened now. You have no choice but to pay for the pack."

To say that you're riled up is a lie because you're incapable of resisting to shake your head fondly and titter at his juvenile actions. You swiftly pay for the delicatessen and essentials before vamoosing the store to resume your way on the road.

This time, it's you who goes behind the wheel. Without a particular destination in mind, you let yourself listen to your instincts; to continue following the path that leads to the unknown.

Unlike the zestful playlist earlier, Yoongi put on a mellow playlist, inundating the ambience between you in snug silence. In your peripheral, you see the cadence taps of his fingers on his thighs while his eyes rove over the passing greenery.

You fracture the silence, experimentally proposing, "Move your hand away."

Yoongi gives you an inquisitive look before he espouses, leaning away from the car door. Then, you press a button and both of your windows roll down. You turn off the cooling system then turn the rotary button above the rear mirror to unbar the sunroof.

"Better?" you query with a soft smile.

"Anything is better," Yoongi admits. "But I can't hear the song now," he adds jokingly.

You giggle, clicking your tongue to which he regards you with a jest expression. "That means you should turn it up, Yoongs."

He finally discerns your message and switches up the mood of the radio. Once again, you're both lost in the ocean of your reveries, with Yoongi congruously leading the small concert session you're having.

You couldn't control the hysterics you're erupting whenever he exaggerates a certain lyric, even attempting to mimic the sounds of instruments. And if those didn't make you reach the peak of your convulsions, the strumming of his fingers on an imaginary guitar and the slapping of his hands on his knees to impersonate a drummer undoubtedly did the trick.

You both don't know for how long you were immersed in your plenary but you finally catch a glimpse of a small hut appearing in your line of sight. You slow down the car and notify, "I caught something on our radar."

Yoongi follows your gaze and accords, "Let's take a stop there."

He initiates to close the windows and sunroof while you focus on parking the truck on a muddy spot, leaving the cement road you were more accustomed to. Then, you both exit the vehicle. Before moving on, he takes both of your backpacks from the cargo bed. The sounds of engine and whirring wind are immediately replaced by the sounds of nature; croaking frogs, clucking chickens, chirping squirrels, tweeting birds, buzzing bees, and more.

Yoongi walks ahead, making a beeline for the hut. You both tramp on soil before finally stepping on the familiar material of wood. The place is almost a ramshackle but you can tell that its built is stalwart and probably withstood a lot of storms already so you didn't doubt that the hut will not collapse on you. Your eyes wander on the ceiling fan, stirring soft winds towards your face, then on the bamboo-made benches on either end of the hut. Yoongi ambles to the center where you finally take notice of the long wooden desk. You realize that the hut is a reception area.

Trailing behind his steps, Yoongi props an arm on the desk and begins to inquire the receptionist.

Your focus on their exchange falters as you survey your surroundings more, even squinting your eyes to try and make out what was beyond the forest. You hear words and sentences along the lines of one night, camping, waterfalls, and other accommodations.

You disconnect from your trance when you feel the softness of a palm land on the small of your back.

"Let's go?" Yoongi asks you with a soft smile when your eyes meet, and you merely nod.

The two of you leave the reception area and approach a trail of cobblestone stairs with moss serving as fleece of the steps. "So, what did the receptionist say?"

"I booked us a cabin for tonight," he informs, lifting a key fob for you to see. "She said there's kayaking on the river. And we have the option to hike to the waterfalls and dive first before doing so."

You hum in response and the conversation quiesces. He lets you walk ahead of him so that when you slip, he would be there to catch you. Occasionally, he would break the silence to alert you of accumulated moss on the steps and tell you to avoid them because they're slippery.

Once you finally reach a flat ground after trekking, you groan in fatigue, bending down to massage your knees while Yoongi situates himself beside you, looking down at you with amusement tinkling his eyes.

"Tired already?" he teases. "We're not even halfway through the day. Come on, slowpoke. We have a waterfall left to hike up."

You whine, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "Can you just do it alone instead? I can just take a video of you from below while you flail in the air like a fish."

He shots you a jokingly offended look. "Rude," he says.

"You started it!" you protest, crossing your arms and stomping your foot.

He chuckles, finding your little tantrum adorable. So, he pulls you to his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder while you continue to spew strings of curses at him.

Nevertheless, he doesn't let you go. He banters with you, and urges you to keep on walking.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

As soon as you and Yoongi checked into the cabin, and dressed into your swimming garments, you both barge outside the place deliriously and challenge each other on whoever reaches the river first.

You aren't keen on the idea at first because Yoongi has the favorable position of having better stamina than you do. But your smaller physique gave you the advantage of feasibly winning.

In fits of mirths, you relent yourselves into the adrenaline rush, excitement, and zealous passion to obtain triumph at the end of your friendly race.

After Yoongi counts down, you dash towards the cobblestones, and you can hear the vigorous footsteps of your friend trailing behind you. Both of your irregular breaths and unceasing giggles resonate through the forest, urging the both of you to speed up even more.

All throughout the race, you never looked back, casting all of your attention ahead of you to make sure that you also didn't slip because you might end up becoming a loafer if you get injured.

Eventually, your feet lands on a flat ground and the sound of your uneven breaths is drowned with the sudden sound of splashing water nearby. You look ahead of you, seeing the crystalline water reflecting the light of the sun towards you.

It blinds you for a moment then suddenly, a realization dawns on you. You pivot around and your eyebrows crease when you didn't see Yoongi.

He was just right behind me earlier.

As your eyes rove to look for a specific male with ginger hair, you don't detect the footsteps tiptoeing behind you. A yelp escapes your lips when you're lifted off the ground. You catch a glimpse of marmalade, confirming your intuition that it was no other than Yoongi who briefly took your ability to walk by yourself.

His gaiety rings in your ears as he carries you towards the direction of the river. You finally realize what he's about to do so you start wriggling in his hold, eyes enlarging.

"Oh, no, no, no! Yoongi! Don't you dare!"

Your warnings only intensify his scheme and the sight of the raging waters magnifies in your sight. You shut your eyes and brace yourself for the impact, and Yoongi throws you into the waves.

Your whole body submerges underneath, the air promptly unplugged. It reminds you of the sleepless nights in the suffocation of your own room. The nightmares of your failures replaying beyond your subconsciousness like a broken vinyl that's maladaptive.

You flounder beneath the waves before you finally found the momentum to swim above the surface.

When you open your eyes and gasp for air, the horrifying panoramas instantly subside. But that isn't what completely makes your ponderous heart repose. Because what greets you abovewater is the elated smiles of Yoongi, who you found swimming along with you in the spates of waves. His smile is as bright as his locks. And unlike you, he seems to be much more relaxed, as if he was very used to going along the course.

His touch is electrifying when his hands slither around your waist, hoisting you so that you wouldn't drown. Apparently, you were stunned and lost the ability to float yourself. Nonetheless, he still embraces you while you wrap your arms around his neck. You both follow the flow of the river.

It goes like that for a few seconds, and the seconds last ephemeral much to your dismay. As quick as the river flows, his warmth leaves you, causing you to feel a sudden void in your chest at the disconnection.

He swims towards the side, with you following suit, and hoists himself to sit on the grass before helping you to escape the ferocious waters.

You plop beside him, exhaust breaths leaving your lips. And once you've regained the regular pulsing of your heart, you punch Yoongi's shoulder. He yips, caressing his shoulder.

"Why'd you do that?" he bemoans, still stroking his skin that was starting to turn the darker shade of his hair.

"Because you threw me in the water!" You didn't mean to seethe, but your words came out that way so Yoongi actually pays attention to you this time, his pained expression swiftly morphing into genuine concern.

"Hey, are you mad? I'm sorry, I thought you would be up for it—"

"No!" you quickly stop him. "It's not that— fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound mean..." you peter off, sighing deeply.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi asks. His hand rests on your bare knee, and the mere action extinguishes your anxiety. His soothing touch lulls you into tranquility.

"Yeah, I am," you let out, and don't say more.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he prods you that manages to emit you the smallest of smiles.

You're touched by his gentleness. You turn your head to face him, your breath hitching momentarily once your round eyes collided with his feline ones. The ebullient expressions he had earlier are now gone. Worry creases his forehead instead and you resist the temptation to kiss it away at that moment, so you opt to look at his nose instead.

"Honestly, Yoongi," you begin. "The reason why I agreed so quickly to you when you told me to get ready because we're going on a trip is because I needed to take a break from life."

He hums, his focus solely on your face that it was making you feel exposed. You feel the shades of carnations coating your cheeks so you continue to speak in hopes of distracting yourself.

"It's nothing that serious, really," you half-lie. "I guess... I just remembered some of my blockmates who kept on freeloading. I caught all of the stress because, well, who would do the work if not me?"

You start to fidget with your fingers underneath the piercing gaze of your friend.

Yoongi sighs and you become aware of his hand on your knee which was drawing small circles. It left you a trail of goosebumps in your skin but you were glad that you had a convenient excuse to say if he notices.

"I'm sorry if I wasn't there for you in the times you were struggling."

Your head cranes up to look at him, eyes widening. His guilty gaze meets your appalled ones and you feel a painful tug in your chest.

"I swear, Yoongi," you reassure him. "It's nothing too deep. And it's not your fault. You didn't know."

"Still, I am sorry," he insists. "Because you remembered them because of me."

You quiver slightly because you interpreted his words differently. He still doesn't know about the real turmoil you're fighting inside. Now, your own guilt is gnawing at you because you just ruined the mood of the vacation. You two are supposed to be having fun and yet here you were, sulking because you couldn't keep your shit together. Because you're a drama queen who hyperbolizes everything.

Even you can't comprehend yourself.

You plant your face in your palms. "I'm sorry, Yoongi. I ruined the mood. We're supposed to be enjoying this getaway."

He pulls your hands off of your face and places his finger under your chin to lift it up. "Hey, don't blame yourself. It's okay. You know, whatever we do in this trip— cry, thrash, or laugh, I'll still cherish every moment of it because it's with you."

You swear you saw something different gleam behind his irises, but in a blink of an eye, it vanishes and you're left to mull on whether you were imagining things or not. However, your own heartstrings strummed as well, giving you no time to dwell anymore.

"Do you still wanna jump off the waterfall?" he asks you, halting your trance. "Maybe you'll feel better after doing so. You can leave all the negative emotions on top of the fall before diving."

"How can you make waterfall-diving sound so enticing?"

Your genuine question breaks the tension between you two and your nose scrunches in confusion when Yoongi chortles, shaking his head. He stands up, dusting the dirt from his soaked clothes before offering you his hand.

You enclose your fingers around his palm, relishing the warmth he instantly transfers from him to you.

Hand in hand, you both trek for the waterfall.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

Having an immense trust for Yoongi, you never doubt his advice that after free diving, your visceral will ameliorate. And it did the trick. Your worries that had been pummeling you hands you mercy, and you clamp your hand around it, even just for a moment.

By the time you both retire for the night in your cabin, the sun had done the same. The sky is smeared with ebony and grape tints. Wraiths in the form of moonlight whisper sweet dreams to the blanketed sun, wistfully wishing that the next morning will be lenient to you.

You volunteer to concoct dinner since it was your specialty and Yoongi is beyond ecstactic that he will finally get to have a taste of your "masterpiece" after awhile (as he claims) to which you only bashfully chuckle at.

As you start to gather the ingredients from earlier's mini grocery shopping, you hear Yoongi meandering around the small living room. Then, he stops and watches you for a few minutes with propped arms on the counter until he finally decides to take a quick shower and attempt to have a power nap.

When his presence leaves you all alone to your thoughts, you suddenly feel apprehensive about doing all this. But it was too late to back out now and it's only fair for your friend that it should be you who prepares your meal because it's where you're supposed to be good at. Shuddering lightly, you hope that it's because of the sudden blow of the night chilly air that nips at your skin and not because of another reason.

The knife in your hold shakes and you struggle to press it down on a bulb of garlic. You latch your wrist with your other free hand, hoping you will stop quivering. You clamp your eyes shut, placing the knife down on the cutting board as you try to regain your senses.

What's happening to you? Why are you so worried? It's only Yoongi.

Your eyes shoot open. Gradually, the ruthless poison ivy choking you relents, allowing you to breathe in through your nose and exhale through your mouth.

That's right. It's just Yoongi. And you have nothing to worry about with him.

You retrieve your strength and you finally proceed to make a meal without any intrusion. After what felt like hours, you're finally placing the two seasoned salmons in the oven. You squat in front of the appliance for awhile, puffing out small breaths because only then did your body registers your exhausted state.

Your hunched form causes your muscle fatigue, so you had to stand up right away to your dismay. You waddle towards the other side of the kitchen as you wait for the salmon to cook, and you start to clean up your station.

The stray strands of your hair keep falling on your face and every now and then, you had to throw your head back to get them out of the way. It becomes frustrating as each second passed by. As you drop the utensils on the sink, a few locks block your sight again. Huffing in annoyance, you were about to swat it away again when two hands appear in front of you out of nowhere.

They gather your strayed locks and nudge them into the back of your head. That's when you unexpectedly feel the presence of another warm body standing behind you. His soft breaths caress your cheek as he tilted his head slightly to check if he hadn't left any strand.

You still as Yoongi smoothly ties your hair, cheeks reddening at his initiative. You wonder how long had he been there witnessing your little distress. And the thought that he had been watching you let out whispers of profanities at the simple problem spurs your cheeks to warm further along with the peculiar feeling in your chest.

He pats your head fondly and you blink, turning your head to face him. Yoongi remains in his stance at your back, a soft smile painting his chapped lips. He tucks baby strands of your hair behind your ear and you suddenly wonder why you're incapable of speech.

Fortunately, he finally speaks, unconsciously intervening with the burgeoning typhoon in your heart that is still inexplicable to you.

"What's for dinner?"

"Salmon," is your implied verbose response yet he stays where he is, tipping his head as a way to prod you to elaborate. "Butter-baked salmon," you finally say.

He furrows his eyebrows in befuddlement. "You don't have a real name for it?"

"Huh?" you dumbly express.

With a cheeky grin, he playfully flicks your forehead. Your hand instinctively flats against it, stroking the skin. "What was that for?!" you squawk.

"You're just so out of it! Had it been awhile since you last cooked?" he pokes.

"It's been a week!" you confirm. "Semestral break, remember? And even so, that doesn't mean my cooking skills did decline!"

Your annoyed state comes across as whines to Yoongi and he couldn't resist pinching your cheeks for the second time that day. With your still stained hands, you couldn't retaliate so you stomp your feet and he finally surrenders. But not without giving you a last poke at your side.

"I swear, I'll give you the smaller piece!" you threaten.

Yoongi exaggeratingly gasps and wheedles you to forgive him. At his attempts, you playfully shake your head but when he offers to do the dishes that night, you finally yield.

And for the rest of the night which felt the longest one to you in awhile, instead of the poison ivy you've become desensitized to, you feel marigold flourishing in your heart instead.

They wrap around you in a manner that doesn't exhilarate you. It doesn't feel monotonous either. It's the perfect amount of ataraxy. You don't know if it's because of the meal you've prepared that tasted more than its usual savory, or if it's because of the serene ambience enveloping you.

Or, if it's because of the presence of the reassuring person sitting across you, the quintessence of solace of his words and stories that come across to you as poems and symphonies.

Your smile feels natural the moment you curve your lips upward when he tells you jokes. You feel at ease in expressing your astonishment or enthusiasm whenever he tells you a few of his anecdotes.

For once in awhile, you don't feel the dread of the night.

Because Min Yoongi is the beacon that lights your path that night in the infinite sea.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

The next day, with the sun at its summit, you're both back on the road. You both relish the congenial silence that envelopes the two of you, mellow tunes complementing the atmosphere.

After a few more kilometers, the air feels different. It's breezy, refreshing. And the roots of tall trees morph into beige grains. Opaque vicinities turning transparent as trunks slim and grow, then you can finally have a glimpse of blue waves crashing against the shore, the horizon becoming more evident to you.

"Wanna take a detour?"

Yoongi's suggestion is what breaks the long silence between you. He acknowledges your nod and minutes later you both find yourselves sitting on sand, sharing two boxes of fruit juice. The seagulls' squawks serves as your background noise for awhile before you suddenly blurt out a question before your brain even internalizes it.

"Are you happy?"

You feel Yoongi's gaze burning on your side profile. "Where's this coming from?"

"Nothing. I'm just curious, is all." You shrug nonchalantly, sipping on your juice.

Candidly, it is not the whole truth, because you're genuinely curious about Yoongi's well-being and current mental state. In the back of your mind, you wonder if he's also going through the same sufferings as you. Deep inside, you wonder if the cheerful attitude he's showing you is a facade, masking his true feelings.

You ponder if he sought you the way you sought him. Trepidation crawls over your skin because you're worried that maybe, you're not the suitable person to be with him at this moment. That maybe, you had been doing something wrong. It's vexatious that you can't help but think this way because you were, unfortunately, a veteran overthinker.

His voice fills your ears. "Well… if you're referring to right now, I can say that I am happy."

You furrow your eyebrows, scrutinizing the meaning behind his words. He might be hinting to you that he's going through something but when you glance over him, you don't see any indication of it. Come to think of it, he never told you why he wanted to "run away" with you in the first place. You were so fervid to escape your own shadows that you forgot to even ask what was Yoongi feeling.

Guilt gnaws you, nibbling your lip that draws rivulets of scarlet. You lick it away, the metallic taste soothing you momentarily.

You tread, gauging for his reaction inconspicuously. "When was the last time you felt sad?"

He takes a sip of his own juice then proceeds to look at the nutrition facts, as if they were the most interesting things at that moment.

"Just recently, when I had this project. We had to draw our own living rooms."

"That doesn't seem so bad. You're good at drawing. What happened?"

Yoongi meets your gaze, chuckling in a tone that you can't decipher whether it had a bitterness in it. "Well, I don't think I've mentioned this to you before but I'm extremely terrible in capturing depths and perspectives, and instilling them on my drawings."

"I didn't know you touched architecture too," is what you simply say. It's a safe response in case Yoongi doesn't feel comfortable to open up to you, but sufficient to also let him know that he can confide to you.

"Me neither." He licks his lips, an unreadable expression etched across his features. "Never expected it. That's why I was so stressed all throughout the process of it. I barely made the passing score, but don't worry. After a few days, I got over it."

Something tells your gut that he's convincing himself more than he's reassuring you. You decide to grant him a brief silence, basking the sea breeze kissing your cheeks softly.

"How do you feel about it now?" you bravely ask, keeping your eyes ahead.

It took him a few seconds before he finally answers, "I'm not dwelling on it that much as before now. And I think I should focus on doing my best at the field I'm good at, impressionism."

You hum, mulling over his response. Somehow, you feel the need and want to assure him.

"You're doing great, Yoongi. You worked hard for every grade you got. It's just that everyone has different standards."

Hypocrite.

You ignore the cruel voice in your head.

"Thank you, Y/N." You don't see his face but you can imagine the way his eyes light up at your words, his signature gummy smile painting his lips.

"Why are you curious all of a sudden though?"

His question catches you off-guard because he had already asked it before. You know that you're being a hypocrite because you can't divulge like he just did. You know it's unfair for him, but with how stubborn you are, you just can't allow yourself to open up your feelings because you can't forgive yourself.

You can't forgive yourself when you fail yourself. When you fail others. When you repeat the same mistakes. When you weren't there for the people who needed you during their shortcomings, because you're busy wallowing yourself in self-pity — even doing that makes you feel shit. When you do nothing to solve about your problems. When you run away instead. When you're happy. When you're sad.

So, of course, you push everything away. Because the one thing you allow yourself to do, is to give yourself a hard time. Because you think it's what you deserve.

So, of course, you dodge the question again.

"It's nothing, really. We weren't able to talk that much whenever we're busy with university, so I just wanted to catch up with you." You hope the smile that you return to him doesn't look forced because you can't afford another screw up.

The gut-wrenching swell on your chest further heightens, and you force yourself to swallow it.

"That's thoughtful of you. But, are you sure? You don't need to tell me anything?" He scoots closer towards you, his arm brushing against yours.

To say you're bewildered is an understatement. Because in that mere, small occurrence — at that featherlight action, Yoongi had once again manage to annihilate your asphyxiation, and you can finally breathe properly again.

"I really am okay, Yoongi. Don't worry about me."

Another half-lie and half-truth. You encage yourself in the prison walls you built yourself. But for some unfathomable reason, you have incognizantly constructed a door — a door so minuscule, and Yoongi had the key to it.

He unlocks the door and opens it, walking into the crevasses of your heart.

"I hope your words match your feelings. Please know that whenever you want to tell me anything, literally anything, I assure you that I'll listen."

This time, your smile reaches your eyes. "Thank you, Yoongi."

Whenever I'm ready. Alright.

You don't know when you'll ever be ready. But looking at Yoongi, you don't want to ever see him crestfallen. Therefore, the odds of not ever being ready was higher.

You don't want to drag him down along with you. Because the last thing that you ever desired is to see him in agony.

You want to protect your safe haven. Protect him from danger. Protect him from yourself.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

What you both planned to be a detour turns out to be the place you'll be spending your whole day at. The calm waves of clear waters on white sands, and the sapphire sky with white streaks made you two like fishes, successfully baited to stay.

Yoongi's busy setting up your tent while you sit quietly on one of your folding chairs, spectating your best friend's struggle. He would emit small irritated grunts every now and then, and mutter incoherent words to himself. Your lips would twitch into a smile whenever he unintentionally puckers his bottom lip or suck the air between his teeth.

You just sit there for awhile, admiring his presence before you finally decide to leave the comfort of your chair, ambling towards the still struggling Yoongi.

"Need help?" you quip, hands pocketed in your loose sports shorts.

From his squat position, Yoongi looks up to you, squinting his eyes because of the sunlight imparing his vision temporarily. His pout becomes more salient, emitting a giggle from you when he grumbles, "So nice of you to finally join me."

"Hey, I'm sorry, alright!" You bite your lip in attempt to halt your giggles. "I just thought you had everything under control like you said earlier."

Yoongi droops his eyes then leaves his position, now towering over your smaller form. The sudden swing of confidence from a few seconds ago instantly dwindles now that he's standing a head taller over you. Nonetheless, you cross your arms, hoping that the sassy action will mask your sudden nervousness.

What a weird feeling. You think to yourself.

"Oh yeah?" he lazily voices, taking a bold step closer to you, diminishing the distance between your warm bodies in an alarming amount.

Your feet stay planted on the ground and you wonder why you don't move an inch away from him.

He whispers balefully, "You wanna see how I have things under my control?"

You stare up at him with curious doe eyes. And then, his ominous gaze shifts into fright. His eyes leave yours and trails down before he unexpectedly shrieks, "There's a crab! It's going to snap your toes!"

You vociferate a shrill ear-splitting scream, resonating throughout the broad beach. Jumping and bounding into Yoongi, you shrink against his chest, both of your feet gliding against the mounds of sands. Deep laughter rumbles from his pectus but quickly disrupts as you both gravitate towards the ground. Yoongi falls on his back with a yelp while you follow, landing on top of him.

He grunts below you, his hands falling on both sides of your waist.

You don't realize the position you're both in for you keep clutching on his knitted cardigan, crawling above him in terror, hoping to escape the crab.

But when you look ahead your feet, you see nothing but sand. That doesn't derail your palpitating heart. Your eyes mimic that of a vagabond, desperately trying to look for the snappy creature because frankly, not seeing the enemy is a ton worse than seeing it.

Alas, you don't see the creature and you halt your panicky state, the realization finally dawning on you.

There wasn't any crab in the first place.

Yoongi only bluffed. And now, you find yourself in a strange, nerve-wracking situation.

When you muster the courage to look up at him, he's already staring, mirth and mischief glimmering from his irises. Your heartrate pounds against your chest, and you desperately wish that the clothes serving as the only barricades between you two are doing their best in concealing your palpitations.

His heavy-lidded eyes are locked with yours, freezing you in your place. The galaxy in his eyes are absorbing you further to get lost in his gaze like a blackhole slowly but surely swirling around you. You can see a lot of stories hidden within the depths of his pupils but they're out of your reach because of their nebulosity.

It doesn't feel real to you when he nudges his face closer toward yours, decreasing the gap between your faces until—

CAW!

You scramble to your feet in surprise, looking up to see a crow flying in circles around the two of you. Meanwhile, Yoongi groans, still flat against the sand. You shoot a glare at him, grabbing a fistful of sand and pummeling it towards him. The grains hit his face and he coughs and sneezes, earning a giggle from you.

"Not the face!" he exclaims, rising to his own feet, stumbling in the process. He glowers at you while you only blow a raspberry at him.

"You seem giddy now." He cackles, dusting the sand off of his outfit. "You should've seen your face— you were so frightened, it's so hilarious!"

You smack the back of his head and he yips, leaping away from your reach.

"Not a word, Yoongi!" you squall. "Why would you lie about a crab that was about to snip my feet?!"

"You started it!" he protests, flailing his arms. You attempt to swing a kick at him but he expertly dodges it, grabbing the opportunity to pull your arm and flush you against his chest.

The familiar and odd feeling of your heart hammering against your ribcage returns. But Yoongi seems oblivious to your (once again) frozen state as he ruffles your hair playfully.

You squirm in his hold and when he finally releases you, you regain the usual pulsation of your heartbeat. You're starting to consider consulting a doctor after the getaway because you've been having these heart palpitations for awhile now.

Yoongi leaves you with your thoughts, hollering ahead of you, "We better set the tent quicker! The sun's about to descend."

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

Two hours later, the tent is standing robustly on the sand and the firewood is crackling flames. It's your second night of the trip. Comfortable silence accompanies your sunset-gazing, watching the sun gradually disappear below the horizon until the sky is left with plum and indigo pigment streaks.

Yoongi clears his throat that pulls you out of your reverie, shifting your attention to him. He's toasting your marshmallow on a stick.

The flames complement his hair color, making him resemble an angel. He's glowing underneath the obsidian sky, his ethereal features more prominent.

He's so pretty.

"A penny for your thoughts?" His breathy and husky voice ushers you to look at his face, and you feel your cheeks warm, as if you were a deer caught on headlights.

"Why'd you choose red-orange?"

It's truly a part of what you've been thinking about, but you also didn't want Yoongi to think that you were a creep for staring at him for so long.

"Why? Does it look weirder the more you look at it?" He hands your marshmallow, the top slightly burnt then skims his fingers along his ginger locks.

You munch on the soft mallow while murmuring your response, "Oh, no. I'm just wondering 'cause the last time I saw you, it was a darker shade."

Yoongi hums thoughtfully, leaning back against the folding chair with both of his hands raising to rest behind his head. He presses his lips into a thin line, mirroring a certain keyboard symbol.

"Do you want the short and simple version or the long and in-depth one?" he finally says.

You scoff lightly, bemused at his question. Your reaction causes him to chuckle, ushering you to pick one already.

"Both," you decide.

"Oh, you're really not letting me get away from this, huh." He raises an amused eyebrow at you, smile never leaving his lips as he bites on his own marshmallow.

"Yeah, well, I'm really curious, okay! Now, shoot your story." You beckon, spreading your arms sassily.

"Okay." He chortles at the action before shifting his expression to a serious one.

"Well, I personally don't like how orange looks next to my skin. While red, is too strong. It makes me look like a devil."

You muse, "But red-orange doesn't seem too far from both colors."

"Yeah, I know. But for me, the shade made a big difference."

"That's some deep shit right there."

Your comment makes him scoff, while you give him a brazen smirk. Truthfully, what he said seemed like a quote to you. It reminds you that the smallest things really did have the biggest impacts sometimes.

It makes you wonder if Yoongi saw you that way. If you're one of the small parts of his life that contributes greatly to his overall well-being and continuous personality and attitude development. Or perhaps if you belonged in a bigger scale, a very significant person in his life.

Just like how he is that person to you.

"Okay, but really, why that color?" you finally ask for the deeper explanation.

He doesn't answer you immediately and you think that maybe he's trying to formulate a comprehensible explanation.

Then, he finally replies, "I guess it's because the two colors evoke some sort of emotions from me." He licks his lips and you heed that his gaze started to wander everywhere, a little habit of his that you've noticed that he does whenever he's nervous.

"I don't know if it makes any sense, maybe it's a visual arts student thing, but red reminds me a lot about my passion for art, you know. But I still didn't go for that solid color because like I said earlier, people might perceive me as a delinquent."

He pauses and lets out a laugh that is neither bitter nor sweet, so you can't tell what exactly he felt at telling you the last sentence.

He continues, "Anyways, while orange... it's a product of red and yellow. Aside from passion, red may mean hostility or anger, and such vehement emotions, while yellow is the opposite. It's optimistic, upbeat, hopeful. And they balance each other, don't you think?"

He stops again to gaze at you, eyes finally steady and you're aware that he had become less uptight, his words seemingly flowing seamlessly.

His last words are what makes you truly awestruck. Because they strucked a certain chord in your heartstrings that had it swelling. It's painful, raw, and consoling all at the same time.

"Because they have something in common. Warmth and comfort."

The silence that blankets the both of you is homely. His words process in your mind, the gears turning in your brain while he only stares at you, patiently waiting for your response.

Truth behold, you were rendered speechless. And you couldn't equal his lyrical interpretation so all you say is,

"I never imagined that you had such profound outlook on colors."

He nods in agreement, sending you a soft smile that quilts your heart with warmth.

"Me neither, I mean at first, of course. But the more I studied art, the more I fell in love with it," he explains, his feline eyes sparkling and you could see how feverish he is with his passion.

"It keeps me... level-headed too, if you know what I mean. Sometimes, life throws shit at you and you have to find that one thing that keeps you in the surface. For my case, it's art."

He ends it there, the denouement so clear yet so ambiguous at the same time. Yoongi truly amazed you. His words are so compelling that you can't help but surrender to him.

"What about you?"

You're taken aback by his question so you dumbly say, "Huh. What about me?"

He chuckles at your befuddlement, "Silly, I told you about my major. It's fair you also tell me yours."

"Oh, so you're a strong believer of an eye for an eye." Your remark renders him into a fit of giggles, the notes of his laughters becoming your lullaby.

"Funny, but no. I just want to know as well, since we both kinda have similar majors. Culinary is art too."

You release a deep sigh and accord, "Yeah, it is. But I look at it way differently than you do. I focus more on the precision of food preparation, make sure that there isn't a single blotch present on the plating because one stray dot, or a mere grain of rice falling from its place—" You shake your head, "—ruins the whole dish. You could say that I'm a perfectionist freak."

"Damn," Yoongi peters off before asking, "If you look at it that way though... doesn't it stress you more?"

"If I don't look at it that way, it would upset the customers."

Your answer makes him silent. You don't know if he's aware of your perturbation. But if he is, he doesn't show it through his actions.

"But have you ever thought of the instance that maybe the customers wouldn't be too disappointed because, well, surely they will recognize the effort you've put in to serve them a dish that will appeal them."

He obliviously shows it through his words. It's another bullseye to you and you wonder if you're that so easy to read. Or, if Yoongi just really knew the right words to say.

"I haven't... thought about it that way..." you admit, nibbling on your bottom lip.

You're absolutely aware that your anxiety is becoming more and more evident with the way you were fidgetting with your hands, your body quivering slightly both because of the chilly air and that certain feeling crawling up on your skin once again.

"Mm, not everything has to be perfect, Y/N. But, it's also not wrong to aim being a perfectionist. It's the way how you do it. If you're open to mistakes and failure, it gives you more chances to improve. Failing is also a part of perfecting. They go hand in hand."

His voice keeps you grounded and you don't realize that you've been holding your breath until you feel Yoongi's soft palm resting over yours that had been fisting your sweat pants.

"You're making me cry, Yoongi. Why do you have to be such a deep talker?" You try to make it sound like you're joking, but your voice brittles at the end.

There was no way to hide what you're truly feeling now. Yoongi isn't dense, you know that.

But it makes you feel pathetic. You feel like you didn't deserve to cry there and then, because if you break at that moment, everything you've ever held in will account for nothing.

"I'm sorry," he genuinely says, drawing small circles on the back of your hand. "I don't mean to make you cry."

"Yeah, I know." You laugh bitterly, the next words falling into whispers, "You always know what to say... it's breaking and easing me at the same time..."

Yoongi doesn't catch what you said.

"What's that?"

"Nothing, I just said that I know it wasn't your intention." You blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. Then, with the most unfeigned smile you could muster, you bravely face him. "And don't worry, I'm not actually gonna cry. It's a metaphor."

You're glad that it's dark because Yoongi takes the bait. At least, that's what you think.

"Are you gonna start speaking in figures of speech?"

"Oh, shut up," you say, chortling at his jest.

The heavy tension soon simmers, and you're grateful that you didn't fall apart in front of Yoongi. But of course, you're also incognizant.

You're oblivious of the fact that he knows that deep inside of yourself, you wanted to collapse. That you wanted to break free from your own shadows at that moment. That you yearned to forgive yourself.

But you still couldn't so he gives you your own space. Even though he severely wanted to yell at you right there and then — scold you to stop giving yourself a hard time. To stop putting him in a pedestal. He wanted you to know that he also has his own flaws. He wanted to let you know that you were perfectly imperfect.

But he didn't explode to you that night, because he wants to treat you with the utmost care as much as possible. He wants to be patient with you — wait for you until you can finally let yourself loose.

He will gently guide you — light your path, and lead you slowly but surely to fully embrace both your flaws and strengths. Be your sanctuary. He wants you to feel what you've been making him feel.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

You're in the middle of the dark waters once again. Like the other night, the familiar serpent crawls over your legs, hurling you deeper and deeper into the abyss.

The pressure that rings in your ears feel all too real, the memories of your failures echoing around you while you desperately try to search for the source of the deafening voices.

Underneath the torrential waves, you furrow your eyebrows, because all the voices sounded the same. Too familiar. It's thunderous, the distinct roar making you wince.

And then everything turns bright.

You don't feel yourself floating. Instead, you were lying comfortably on a bed of flowers. The petals tickle your cheeks, causing you to smile at the sensation. It's so warm, so reassuring.

The flowers begin to feel real in your hold and you can't stop yourself from caressing their softness. It's too real, too tangible.

When you open your eyes, you feel something heaving against your face. It's soft and tepid, almost lulling you back to slumber.

Yoongi's hands feel like home around your sides. And your own hands fit perfectly around his waist. You feel like two missing puzzle pieces that had finally found their pair.

His soft breaths kiss the top of your head. Carefully craning your head upwards, the sight of Yoongi's serene state welcomes you. His lips are slightly parted and his face is relieved of all kinds of creases and wrinkles.

In your hazy state in a too early morning, you bury your face into his chest, his heartbeat serving as your lullaby as you slowly fall back into the most peaceful slumber you've ever had in the longest time.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

When the skies are sapphire and the sun is painting everything on its way vibrantly, Yoongi drives until the blue waters disappear from sight, until the white sands turn into green meadows.

He drives along the long path until you leave the outskirts, and the familiarity of small establishments appear in your eyesights.

You both had end up in a small town so Yoongi slows down the car to give you both the time to admire the architecture styles of each building.

"I like how old-fashioned this town is," Yoongi comments and you nod in agreement.

"We should make a stop here," you suggest to which he immediately concurs.

He drives into a pay parking area and when both of your feet had landed on the gravel stones, you stretch your sore limbs that had been in the same idled position for hours.

Yoongi laughs at you and you shoot him a questionable gaze. "What's so funny? Aren't you aching?"

He shakes his head. "It's nothing, and I'm fine."

Yoongi thinks you're cute but he doesn't tell you that.

You shrug and say, "Suit yourself."

"Come on, let's make the most of our time." Yoongi offers you his hand to which you immediately interlace with yours. Your gaze lingers on your intertwined fingers for a beat longer than usual.

You're reminded of the time he pulled you around the clothing store, the fond memory still clear in your mind. Lips curving upward, you don't notice it until Yoongi points it out.

"What's with the smile?"

"I can smell coffee, I'm craving for it!" You smoothly dodge while Yoongi sniffs the air.

"You have a strong sense of smell," he muses.

This time, it's you who pulls him along, leading the way as you follow the aroma of coffee bean and apple cinnamon.

The bell dings upon your entrance to the coffee shop. In broad daylight, only a few tables are occupied because usually, the cafe's rush hours are during the nights.

"A medium Vanilla Cold Brew, no whipped cream, and less ice. And a tall Iced Americano, no water, with one shot of heavy cream and two pumps of vanilla syrup," you tell the cashier.

Beside you, Yoongi looks down on you with pure adoration in his eyes. When you two walk to the other end of the counter, you give him an inquisitive gaze.

"What?"

You watch as he stops fending his signature gummy smile from emerging. "You've memorized my order?"

You don't even realize how much of a surprisal that is to Yoongi. While you're confounded for a moment, he takes the leisure to map out the cute creases on your eyebrows and engrave them in his memory before he gently presses a thumb between your brows.

"It's what you always order whenever we have coffee break after school, how could I not remember it?"

He shakes his head at your nescience, his smile lines still visible to you. "What if I ask you why didn't you order your usual pastry to-go as well? Cheese rolls?"

Your cheeks suddenly feel warm despite of the frosty temperature inside the coffee shop. Now, you're aware of the meaning behind his words.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you mumble, "Well... they didn't have your favorite... Blueberry scones... So, I didn't want to eat without you doing so too."

A few moments ago, Yoongi could still feel his own heart beating against his chest. But now, he's certain that it had jumped away from his ribcage and took shelter in you.

But he doesn't tell you that.

Instead, he compliments you, "That's thoughtful of you, Y/N."

Your name rolls on his lips seamlessly, sounding like a melody to your ears. The thumping of your heart intensifies that you turn around to avoid Yoongi's piercing gaze.

What is going on with me?

At the same time, your name is called, the barista handing your orders. You nimbly take the tray and the both of you slide into a booth by the window to enjoy your caffeine drinks.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

By night time, the streets outside are crowded. Oceans of people bustle inside the cafe. You also both realized that you had been chatting away all your hours inside. However, both of you don't complain. Because you'd never ran out of topics.

With being in each other's presence, you both think that time is too short.

Yoongi leads you outside the coffee shop, the frigid air almost knocking you off your feet. The two of you navigate your way amongst the swarming people until Yoongi halts, and you almost crash against his back.

You peek over your shoulder and now you understand why Yoongi had stopped.

Lots of strings of lanterns hang above you, serving as stars to light up the onyx sky. Rows of food trucks and stalls fill the road with tons of various street foods displayed, luring you to check them all out.

"Hotteok!" you exclaim and pat your friend's arm excitedly, pointing at the nearest food truck.

Yoongi giggles, his gums in display, while you pull him to line up for the hotteok.

After obtaining the desired food, your eyes catch another delicacy, bungeoppang — and another, mandu — then another, tteokbokki— and another and another, the list going on. Before you both knew it, both of yours and Yoongi's hands are filled with paper cups and barbecue sticks.

Your cheeks are full, garbling words as you point another food stall.

As you take the first step to skip, Yoongi wraps an arm around you. Mildly confused, you look up at him to see him bowing apologetically to a stranger.

You swallow the fishcake before asking him, "What was that?"

Yoongi's soft reassuring smile comes into view. "It's nothing. We almost bumped into him."

"Oh, sorry, Yoongi. I didn't see him." You pout, casting your gaze down while he presses the back of his hand against your lower lip.

"It's okay. It wasn't a big deal," he reassures you.

Your smile returns and you both resume your food adventure.

For what seems like hours, you both try out every single street food in the bazaar. When you plop against one of the outdoor picnic benches, that's when you instantly feel the soreness of your legs.

Yoongi groans across you, massaging his knees. You volunteer to dispose all of your garbage since more than half of the cups and sticks that had food earlier are now chilling in the walls of your stomach.

You give Yoongi a smile before skipping away with the litters in your hands, searching for the nearest bin in the dark.

Squinting your eyes, you finally find one and skip towards it, shoving everything inside.

You were about to walk away but then you feel an ominous hunch in your gut when you can faintly hear footsteps crunching leaves behind you. They start to get louder as each second passed by before finally, you find the strength in your limbs to start walking when the footsteps stopped.

The baleful feeling in your chest doesn't spurn when the sound of the same footsteps return, trailing behind you — urging you to fasten your pace.

You're only a few away from reaching the crowded outdoor seating area and if you speed up only a tad bit, you'll be able to reach safety—

"Hey, over here, man!"

A stranger calls out, making you look at him. He runs towards your direction, passing by your back. And you grab the chance to sprint.

You run with the adrenaline rush coursing through your nerves, serving as the fuel to spur you faster.

The back of Yoongi comes into your line of sight that you impulsively yell—

"Yoongi!"

You crash into his chest, arms enveloping around his waist as you bury your head into the crook of his neck, ragged breaths escaping from your lips.

"Woah— hey. What happened?" Yoongi instinctively rubs your back soothingly, reciprocating your actions.

"Nothing," you blatantly lie. "Can we... stay like this for awhile?"

"Of course, but... you're worrying me, Y/N."

Yoongi doesn't object your sudden request. He could've relished the warmth you're giving him but he's more concerned about what happened to you. Taking deep breaths, Yoongi continues to rub your back, ushering you to follow his breathing pattern that will hopefully calm you down.

"I'm sorry," you say after you've regained your normal breathing. "It's just... I thought someone was following me."

"What?" You feel his body tense.

"Please don't look!" You tighten your grip around him. "I'm okay now," you continue in a calmer tone. "I didn't see him but he may have passed by us already."

Yoongi's chest heaves up and down, a deep exhale rumbling from his throat.

"I'm sorry for letting you go out there alone. I should've just gone myself instead."

"Hey, don't blame yourself, Yoongi. I volunteered to do it because you were already tired. And it's my fault, anyway. I shouldn't have recklessly—"

A string snaps in your heart, the maim provoking agony; it suddenly feels like you're having a difficult time breathing again. The only anchor you have is Yoongi at this moment. But, he's also the person you've now hurt.

"Don't be ridiculous, Y/N," he disrupts you, pulling away to look at you properly. His eyes are coated with pain, worry, ire, and sadness all at once. You can't decide which one is the worst. But they all make you cower under his gaze.

"You can't possibly be blaming yourself over something that obviously wasn't your fault," he rebukes, his fiery gaze scorching you. "Stop making it an unhealthy habit of throwing yourself under the bus. Do you understand what could've happened if you had gotten kidnap? Are you still going to beat yourself up if you end up in that kind of situation?! Not the one who wronged you?! Why can't you..." His tone simmers. "Why can't you forgive yourself?"

The bullet penetrates your skin. It feels so real, too real. Moreover, it's because Yoongi was the one behind the gun. And after hesitating for a lot of times, against his conscience, he finally pulls the trigger.

You can't even process his words; they blur along your vision. They dim until you can no longer see his face. Your hot tears had finally spilled and you surrender, clutching Yoongi's shirt and convulsing against him.

And he stays with you, never leaving your side as you submit yourself wholly into a state of vulnerability. The bottle that you've closed and kept for so long falls on the ground and crumbles, shards lacerating your skin.

"Why..." you choke out as you attempt to speak. "Why... is it so hard... to be happy, Yoongi?"

Vehement hot tears incessantly spill from your eyes, your sobs amplifying in the now almost-empty outdoor seating area. Yoongi makes you look at him, your red swollen eyes causing his heart to ache.

"You have to understand that happiness doesn't come instantaneous, Y/N," he tells you sweetly, with the utmost delicate tone laced in his voice. He lulls you to his saccharine smile, his hand tucking the strays of your hair and resting against your soft cheek. A simple action that protects you from peril.

Yoongi flutters his eyes close as he rests his forehead against yours. He whispers, "The wheel has to keep on turning, Y/N. Without sadness, you can never attain happiness. It takes time, and I promise you, everything will be worth it once you reach the top of the wheel."

You choke out a sob, leaning against his warmth, gripping tightly on his shirt as you brokenly say, "But it's too much, Yoongi... It hurts too much because I feel like I'm stuck at the bottom of the wheel. I can't push it to move."

He hushes your cries, wiping the tears away from your tainted cheeks. His touch is intricate, handling you as if you were a glass that must be treated with the utmost care and protection. "Maybe because you've been pushing the brakes for too long. Tell me, Y/N." He leans away to lift your chin up.

Your gazes collide like supernova, and suddenly all you can see and feel is him. You can see yourself in his glossy irises, mirroring your own pains, and you can't help but flush yourself against his chest, afraid that he might slip away from you too.

"When was the last time you allowed yourself to feel?"

His question draws you to dig within the trenches of your subconsciousness, but you can't remember anything. You can't recall the last time you've opened your arms to your own vulnerability. Because the answer is a long time ago.

And you realize how much you've kept everything inside. A small bottle where you locked all of your painful encounters away. The discernment a little too late that the container had overflown, and you spilled everything out convulsively.

The weight of the whole world seems to lift itself away from your shoulders, and now all you feel at this moment, with Yoongi by your side, is relief. Finally, a moment when breathing doesn't feel like you're getting asphyxiated.

When your loud sobs simmers to soft cries, Yoongi takes your hand and leads you both back into the car. He helps you get inside, protecting your head by hovering his hand on top of it.

By the time he's already behind the wheel, you've stopped crying. The bags under your eyes feel heavy, your energy drained from all the sobbing that you can only look ahead of you with a faraway gaze.

You feel Yoongi rest his hand on top of yours, his warmth instantly channeling to your body. It emits you a miniscule smile — barely even there but he catches it even in the dark.

Because for Yoongi, you're his light.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

Your hands are interlaced ever since Yoongi drove away from the town. They're resting on top of your thigh and your eyes linger on them for what felt like minutes before you trail your gaze to Yoongi's side profile.

You take in his beautiful features; his vermilion locks, pale round cheeks, his feline eyes that had the color of honey, irises swirling like sweet nectar — last but never the least, his pouty pink lips glimmering under the ascending sun, looking so soft and shiny, the temptation luring your mind to wander in your fantasies; how will it feel like pressing yours against his. Will it taste saccharine or salty? Will it slot against yours perfectly?

The beating of your heart drowns the sound of the throttling engine. And suddenly, everything to you makes sense. Your currently rising heartrate, the peculiar feeling of something fluttering in your abdomen, the electrifying tingles you constantly feel whenever your skin would connect with his.

His mere presence that is the epitome of your haven, your home, your —

Love.

It feels too overwhelming that you sharply retract your hand away from his and you look away, forcing yourself to watch the passing nature in your eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Yoongi's soothing tone warms you, but the heart-shaped lump that rises on your throat is difficult to swallow.

With shut eyes, you mumble, "Nothing. I just need some sleep."

You convince yourself more than you assure him, pushing away the inundating thoughts of his smile, his laughter, his mere voice sounding like music to your ears. Forcing yourself to sleep, it took you what felt like hours to do so.

When you woke up, you find yourself alone in the passenger's seat. The empty seat beside you slightly makes you feel lonely with a hint of relief. Because truthfully, your heart nerves are still erratically beating.

In attempts to calm yourself, you exit the vehicle and bask under the cold air that instantly nips your skin. It only takes you seconds to realize that you had a stop over in a gasoline station.

You realize that you had been zoning out when Yoongi ambles out of the store, two plastic bags in his hands. His marmalade hair steals your attention straight away. Shaking your head out of your daze, he invites you to sit on the cargo bed to have breakfast.

After hoisting both of yourselves behind, you make sure to leave a sufficient amount of space between you. Then, you both quietly eat your store-bought sandwiches.

Albeit the ambience around you is still, the sun barely rising from the horizon, your heart is undergoing a series of fluctuations. Every beating sound reverberates in your ears. Your mind is going haywire, spinning and whirling like a mayhem—

"How are you feeling?"

Yoongi's sudden question makes you flinch slightly. Looking for any sign that he noticed your distress, you see that he doesn't show it. The battering of your heart against your ribcage relents for now.

You swallow thickly, "I'm... better."

It's partly the truth. Truthfully, you're feeling a lot better after your breakdown last night. But, today, you're facing a different battle. It's different from the usual ones you have, and you have no idea how to deal with it.

It's a new feeling — both frightening and consoling. You're in a fight or flight situation.

"That's good to hear." He looks at you and you're instantly trapped under his gaze.

His smile is back, smile lines accentuating his beauty marks underneathe the honey rays.

"Remember, Y/N," he speaks to you tenderly. "One step at a time. Alright?"

You nod mutely, staring as he lifts one of his hand to tuck a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His knuckles brush againts your cheeks, rendering you to pull away from his touch, break the eye-contact, and look away.

The frown that etches his features comes unnoticed to you. Nevertheless, Yoongi respects your space, and reluctantly retracts his hand that was about to reach and touch you.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

Yoongi drives with you in the backseat of the truck. He keeps checking on you in the rear view mirror, fingers tapping on the stirring wheel. He can't seem to feel at ease. He had been fidgetting in his seat for the past half an hour, pouty lips protruding and cheeks hollowed.

Meanwhile, you have been doing your very best to avoid the questionable and piercing glances being thrown at you by your best friend.

Best friend. That's right, Y/N. You have to protect your friendship. Don't surrender yourself to your feelings again.

You keep replaying your mantra in your head again and again, hoping that your newfound feelings for Yoongi dissipates.

If only it was that easy.

A few more hours fly by, and the sun is finally at its crest. Yoongi parks in front of a diner while you swiftly unbuckle your seatbelt and exit the car with the engine still revving.

You were about to enter the diner when the call of your name halts you.

Your body tenses but you turn around to see Yoongi jogging after you.

"Hey—" He pants as if he had been on a marathon for hours. The truth is, his heart is also racing because you've been acting strange for the past few hours.

"Y/N, can we talk?"

You don't answer immediately, nibbling your lower lip. His eyes fall on your lips for a fleeting moment before forcing himself to look at your eyes instead when you nod your head.

"Have I done something to upset you?"

"No!" You quickly protest. "Why would you think that?"

Yoongi fiddles with his fingers, releasing a soft sigh. He contemplates whether on he should take a step closer to you or not. He wants you to be within his reach but he's uncertain if you'll allow him. Yet, he takes the risk, anyway.

"It's just..." He decreases the distance between you by an inch. "You've been distant since this morning."

You stay frozen in your place, your eyes looking everywhere but him. Yoongi takes your silence as the confirmation.

"So, there is something. What is it, Y/N? Is this about last night? Can you tell me? So that I'll never do it again."

He takes another step closer to you, but you push him away again by taking a step backward.

"That's not what I want, YoongI!" You flail your arms. Then, your tone wanes. "I... That's not the issue at all..." you stammer.

"What then?" Yoongi's heart cracks slightly, bracing for your verdict.

"I want you to keep doing it but..." you trail off. Shutting your eyes, you muster every bit of your courage to tell him. "I just hate myself for interpreting it differently when you've been doing it ever since we've become best friends."

"I'm not following, Y/N."

"Of course, you aren't!" You retort again. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to keep yourself level-headed. "I have to say it myself now, don't I? And this... might mark the ending of our friendship." Your voice fades, brittling slightly at the end.

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because I'm in love with you, Yoongi! I have been in love with you ever since before the moment I even realized it..."

Your heart combusts, and you realize that it was too late to take back your words. So, with every fiber in your body, you bravely meet his eyes.

"You're the warmth that I always seek for. Your gentleness and your tender touch... whenever you lace your fingers with mine, I can't help but stray towards the thought that maybe... you might feel the same way."

You sniffle lightly, your tears already welling up for the second time within twenty-four hours.

"But I know we're only friends, Yoongi. And you've been doing all those things— caring for me, spending time with me, affirming me, treating me— everything! And now, I have just made things complicated and I'm scared that you will just stop doing all of those. Because now, something changed."

You lower your head in shame, fisting your hands and closing your eyes. A few drop of tears falls to the ground, the spots turning the asphalt shades darker.

It's silent. Too silent. And you were about to take it as the indication that that was it — that everything is now over when—

"And what if I told you that you thought right?"

Your eyes snap open, head craning to look at Yoongi.

"What if I told you that my heart yearns for only you and nobody else?" he confesses, taking a bold step closer to you. This time, you don't push him away.

"You said it yourself, it wouldn't make any sense for me to stay close to you when I don't see you more than just... a friend. What if I told you that I had been longing for something more between us?"

Another step closer. "That the thought of making you mine crossed my mind a lot of times?"

Another step closer. "What if I told you that I love you? But not in the way I've said it before. I love you, Y/N. More than it encompasses friendship, more than as a partner— a lover."

He breathes deeply, and he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. "I wished there was a better word than love for me to be able to express what I truly feel for you."

You're truly stupefied. Not being able to utter a single word to his confession. Yoongi looks at you in a way that you've seen a lot of times from him already.

It's the same enamored eyes, the tender touches, the compassionate actions, the solaceful words.

"Just say the word, Y/N," he whispers. "And I'm all yours."

You concede, reaching to cup his cheek. He flutters his eyes close, leaning to your touch before you stand on your tiptoes and press your lips delicately on his.

You've traced everything — every feature of his lips, mapped out his smile lines and etched them into your mind. But until this very moment, your thoughts never did any justice into capturing the details of how warm and feathery it would feel to slot your lips in his.

He kisses you like his whole life depended on it.

He kisses you as if this was going to be the last time he'll feel your unwavering warmth morphing with his.

He kisses you delicately, taking his own time to explore every crevice of your soul — inhaling your vanilla scent, and ingraining them into his memory.

And you kiss him back with as much ardor.

You reciprocate every languid and fiery ember he gives you.

It was a long, long kiss full of passion, and love. It transcends the mind, the heart, and the soul. Every note and rhythm of each pulsating kiss is heartquaking.

Your heart spills unwanted tears, tainting your cheeks that Yoongi had to pull away, his warmth distinctively leaving you.

"I can't..." you brokenly say.

"Y/N..."

The shattered call of your name crushes your heart into pieces.

"Yoongi, I can't do this to you..." Hot tears spill from your eyes, the sensation burning every trail it falls into. "I'm broken and I don't want you fixing me. You can't be with someone who can't even love themselves—"

Yoongi hushes you, cupping your cheeks and making you look at him.

"Y/N, I don't care if... if we both end up getting broken. I'd rather be broken with you than spend my whole life in happiness, knowing that you aren't by my side. I don't care how much more we become destroyed because we can build ourselves again.

It doesn't matter if we fall again, because it's a part of the process. Each time we fall, we'll learn choosing the right bricks to use. We can keep building until we reach the top and nothing can ever maim us again."

Yoongi sighs deeply, burying his hand into the back of your head. He brings you into his embrace and you welcome it with open arms.

However, the turmoil within you doesn't cease. Because this isn't what Yoongi deserved. As much as you were touched by his loving words, you still couldn't grasp around them.

You pull away completely from his touch, forcing yourself to be valorous.

This is your own battle.

And you will continue to fight it even if Yoongi isn't by your side.

Because it's what you feel that is right.

When your gazes collide, he immediately understands the look in your eyes. Although it's breaking his heart, he understands you and he will respect your decision.

But he makes a promise to you that sunrise, below the rays that are about to ascend.

"I will wait for you."

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

You remember everything from that day as clear as the moment it ended. His shattered expression, his glossy irises shedding his own tears. His broken smile as he waved you goodbye.

You couldn't stay with him any longer because if you did, even for a mere second, you will crumble and fall apart, and surrender under him.

But you didn't want that. You didn't want Yoongi having to deal with your broken state.

You want to make things right. You want to be deserving of his love. You want to be the right person for him.

Even if it means letting yourself fall again beneath the chasm.

But now, you have a newfound strength. And you will wield it the right way this time. You will brave against every storm that strikes you.

You will brave against yourself — your own voice that you hear in your nightmares every time the moon made its apparition.

Because now, you have someone by your side, even it wasn't physically.

Before you dream, it's his smile that appears in your mind, the very last thing you see before you fall into slumber.

After you dream, it's his laughter that you hear first thing in the morning before you open your eyes.

While you are dreaming, it's him that you see in the depths of your shadows, the light at the end of the tunnel.

︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶

The emerald leaves turn into sepia, dry ones descending and blanketing the asphalt. Vibrant colors morph into bold, homely and strong ones, gold and red that carpet the grass. Mist and fog waft the air, the once warm weather shifting to a frosty one.

It is the season of change. Autumn.

You've never enjoyed the breeze of the certain season until now. Puffing out small ice breaths, you smile as the leaves crunch smoothly and melodically into your ears. Your long coat barely does its job of warming you. Nonetheless, you enjoy the sudden shift of temperature.

It's a very significant day for you. It's the day where your life drastically changed — the same day from three years ago. The day you opened a new chapter in your life.

Upon your arrival, the people around you greet you with warm smiles and small bows. You reciprocate their gestures, then begin to survey your surroundings. Various shades of orange and red embellish the interior of the building, with several origamis of leaves and birds beautifying the ceilings.

Intricate strings of small pumpkin ornaments hang by the windows, along with the apricot fairy lights twinkling and lighting up the place with hues of tangerines.

"Good morning, ma'am."

The voice of your employee pulls you out of your daze. You give her a smile of gratitude. "You guys have done well as usual. The decorations are fitting and amazing."

"Thank you, ma'am!" She gratefully bows to you.

"And happy anniversary," you greet her.

She reciprocates your greeting then leaves you to your own thoughts. It's the opening anniversary of your self-made restaurant, the one thing you've been focusing on for the past three years. It had become your own safe haven because of the smiles of your customers that they give you before they step foot out of the restaurant. It's soothing in your nerves because you feel fulfilled whenever you send them away happily.

The air around you feels refreshing, and you inhale the aroma of pumpkin spices and apple pies.

It's a significant day for you not only for this reason but something else.

An art gallery had recently opened a few months ago, but you weren't able to check it out because of how busy you had been with your business. For some unfathomable reason, every time you passed by the gallery, a peculiar invisible string keeps on pulling you.

And today, you're going to find out what is that enigmatic essence luring you. You bid your staff a farewell before stepping out into the autumn air once again.

Your feet leads you into the familiar but new establishment. Standing before the entrance, you admire the bold calligraphed letters in the gradient of roses and marigolds, green vines wrapping around each letter that spelled the art gallery's name.

Gravitating towards it, you finally step foot inside the building. Your eyes wander every art piece, from portraits to landscapes, even architectural pieces before your eyes catch a glimpse of a certain painting.

Delicate strokes of blue and white smear the sky, mixtures of pigments that are beyond your comprehension creating the illusion of clear waters. And most importantly, the figure in the middle. She looks all too familiar to you. She had a cosmic smile on her face, lips curved upward, the intricate details of her cupid bow prominent. As if the artist had specifically gave much more attention to her facial features more than the landscape itself.

And unlike every other masterpiece with women adorned in extravagant dresses, the girl in the painting, instead, donned a cream-colored sweatshirt, and black shorts ending right above her knees.

Of course, you know this girl all too well.

Because it's you.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

The strum of familiar baritone strings fills your ears. You don't need to look to know who it is. Because his voice had been inscribed into your memory. He still sounds the same since the last time you've heard him. But more homely, warmer, deeper, more melodic.

"She is," you affirm.

"But she'll be more stunning today."

Your lips twitches into a smile. "Have you seen the model yet?"

"No," he answers. "She hasn't let me yet."

Your eyes slowly leave the painting before you, shifting to your left in an agonizingly slow manner. You take your time until you finally see his profile.

Yoongi was still the same. The same since the day you left him.

His hair was still the strong shade of red-orange, styled handsomely so that none of the fringes conceal his face. His feline eyes seem more fuller than before, more contented, happier. Amongst the galaxies that your eyes can make out, you see your own reflection. And you've never felt belonged into his eyes until this moment.

His cheeks are more defined, manly, but he still has the same lips — the lips you've once had a taste of. Looking so soft, plump, and pink. A suit dons his body, enhancing his manly and handsome features.

He is the epitome of beauty.

You finally reach out a hand to him. His gaze lingers for a beat longer before he interlaces his hand with yours. You both immediately relish each other's warmth, reveling on the moment that you two had finally found both of your ways back home.

You to him.

And him to you.

With the most genuine smile that traces your lips, you say,

"Let's run away."

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