Chapter Text
Three Days Since The Funeral
It takes Seokjin three days to work up the courage to enter his mother’s room. The air is a bit stuffy from the door remaining shut, and dust has begun to collect on the furniture. He lingers in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob, and stares at the vacant rocking chair in the corner.
He can still picture her sitting there so clearly, watching her shows as she knits blankets and scarves for the local women's shelter in town. The rocking chair is a warm memory of her, but her bed is a cold and heavy one. It’s where she spent the last few days. It’s where Seokjin had to watch her lay, reading a book to her softly to distract her from the pain consuming her as her life slowly drained out of her.
She refused a higher dosage of the pain medication, wanting to be as present as she could be in her last few moments.
The book is still sitting on the bedside table, flipped over so it’s resting open on the pages they had left off, forever to be unfinished.
His heart falters for a moment from the pain. Every day, he thinks he might crumble from it all. Grief weighs heavy on his shoulders, and he’s not sure when, if ever, it’ll start to hurt a little less. He’s had years to try to get used to the idea of her being gone, but no time is ever enough for that.
Seokjin inhales slowly, taking a deep breath before slowly releasing it. It doesn’t make him feel any better, but it does steady him enough to be able to step further into the room.
He doesn’t turn a light on, letting the sunlight shining in through the windows be the only light in the room. It’s plenty, encompassing the room in a soft, gentle glow.
Seokjin takes his time going around the room, starting with her dresser. He’s not ready to empty it out yet, he doesn’t even dare to open a drawer, but he looks through the trinkets she had on top.
It’s mostly jewelry. She had been buried wearing some of her favorite pieces, and he kept one of her rings for himself. He wears it on a chain around his neck now, keeping a piece of her close to him always. Close to his heart. He runs his fingers over some of her other jewelry on top of the dresser, but otherwise leaves them in their places.
He takes another deep breath, his heart feeling like it’s in his stomach. He’s about to step away from her dresser when he notices the corner of a piece of folded paper sticking out from beneath a stack of books. He carefully pulls it out, his heart thudding painfully when he sees his name written in his mother’s handwriting.
Seokjin backs up until he reaches the rocking chair and sinks down into it, taking another deep breath before unfolding the paper. Tears immediately gather along his bottom lash line when he realizes his mother has left a letter for him.
My Dear Seokjin,
I am sorry we have had to say goodbye like this. I wish so badly that I never had to leave you, but the world works in mysterious ways. I’ve come to terms with having a limit, with having a shorter life than what we originally think we get, but I know it’s much harder for you, and that it is going to be hard on you for a while.
I know I can’t take away the pain you are feeling. If you’re reading this, that means that I am gone, and you are consumed with grief that I wish I could free you from. I’m honored to have been so loved by you, and while I can’t take away your pain, I hope I can help you hurt a little less by telling you this: I’m not in pain anymore. I’m free from sickness. I am free, and I am happy. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.
I’m writing this knowing that my time is coming to its end. I’m growing tired. I can feel that my body is ready to rest. As I sit here thinking about everything I have done in my life, the thing I am most proud of is you. I have raised a beautiful son, inside and out, and I hate that I will not get to see you continue to achieve so many things. Even though I will not be by your side anymore, I will always be with you. Always watching. Always proud. Never doubt that.
I know you have been feeling a bit lost lately. I see the struggle behind your smile. I want you to know that it’s okay to feel lost. It’s okay to have doubts, and to change your mind, and to take a step back from the life you think you wanted. People grow and change every day, and no one is the same person they were a few months ago, a year ago, or ten years ago. People change, dreams change, and that’s okay . I know I’ve raised a brilliant, strong person, and I know you will figure things out when you’re ready. It’s okay to pause. Please pause for as long as you need.
Now that I am gone, I want you to know the things I hope for you. I hope that you’re not scared to love again. I hope that you don’t hesitate to take big leaps, to chase the things you want, and to make selfish choices every now and then. I hope that you continue to open your hearts to others. I hope that you continue to be kind, that you don’t lose your smile, and that you are able to still find happiness even with my absence. I know that sounds hard and unrealistic right now, but I have faith in it. I have faith that the loss of me won’t ruin all the good things you still have, that it won’t stop you from seeing the good that is still in this world.
My hand is getting tired, so I’m going to finish this now. I love you, my dear. I’ll always love you. I’m sorry things had to be this way. Do whatever you need to do to move forward. Keep the house or sell it, it’s up to you. Move home or go back to Seoul. Keep my things or get rid of them, I don’t care either way. Do whatever is best for you. Don’t worry about what you think I would have wanted, because all I want is the very best for you.
This will never truly be goodbye, so I’m not going to say it. I’m just going to end this letter here.
I’ll love you forever .
Seokjin finishes reading and holds the letter to his chest, his shoulders shaking as he cries. His entire chest is on fire with heartbreak and grief, and he chokes as he tries to catch his breath. Even in her dying moments, all she cared about was him, and that makes him feel both warm and broken at the same time.
He’s not sure how to move forward, but he knows he has to try. For her.
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One Week Since The Funeral
Seokjin is sweating as he pulls weeds in his mother’s garden. She used to tend to it meticulously before she became too sick to continue, and it has become overgrown and messy. It’s an oddly warm day for winter and they haven’t gotten any snow, and he doesn’t care if it’s absolutely crazy to be trying to clean up a garden right now. He’s been out here since mid-morning, and now it is late afternoon, and things are finally starting to come together. The sound of a truck engine pulls him from his focus, and he looks over his shoulder to see Jungkook’s truck pulling into the driveway.
“Hey,” Jungkook calls out as he hops out, carrying a tote bag that looks like it could rip at the seams from how full it is. He walks up the driveway until he reaches the sidewalk and stops at the edge of where Seokjin is sitting on the ground. “Wow, hyung. This looks amazing.”
“Thanks,” Seokjin says, using his arm to wipe sweat off his forehead. He gestures toward the bag. “What’s that?”
Jungkook looks sheepish as he scratches the back of his neck with his other hand. “It’s more food from my mom.”
Seokjin gives him a small smile. Jungkook’s mother has sent food nearly every day, wanting to make sure Seokjin was eating. Sometimes she leaves it at the front door, and sometimes she sends Jungkook over with it.
“I’ll tell her to stop, if you want, hyung,” Jungkook says softly. “She means well, but I know it can be a bit much, and –”
“It’s fine,” Seokjin cuts in. “I don’t mind.” He returns his focus to the weed he is pulling out.
Jungkook pinches his lips together, not pressing any further. He hovers for a moment longer before letting himself into the house to put the food in the fridge for later. He’s been coming over for dinner nearly every night. He tries to give Seokjin his space, but he also doesn’t want to leave him alone for too long.
Grief can make being alone unbearable.
When the sun starts to set and Seokjin finally comes inside, Jungkook suggests that he take a shower while he starts heating up the food for dinner. Seokjin nods without a word and disappears into the bathroom.
Jungkook is just setting the last dish onto the table when Seokjin returns, dressed in Namjoon’s sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. He sits and scans his eyes over the food. “Your mom is trying to make me fat.”
Jungkook chuckles. “She’s a fretter, you know that. She likes taking care of people.”
“You’re a fretter too, you know,” Seokjin says, eyeing Jungkook teasingly as he starts to pile some food onto his plate. When Jungkook tries to deny it, he adds, “You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been coming here every night for dinner? That you’ve been keeping the fridge stocked and have been bringing the mail in? You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”
“I just want to help take care of you.”
Seokjin’s eyes harden a little. “I don’t need to be taken care of.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “I know you don’t need to be, hyung. I’m not trying to coddle you. It just… it makes me feel better to help you out in any way that I can. I’m just trying to be here for you.”
After a moment, the tension leaves Seokjin’s shoulders and he gives Jungkook a gentler look. “I know, Kookie. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” He runs a hand over his face. “I’m just tired.” He can feel tears threatening to gather, but he holds them back. He’s so tired of crying.
“Have you…” Jungkook trails off, shifting in his seat. “Have you made any decisions about what you want to do? How much time off did the clinic give you?”
Seokjin rests his chin in his palm, his elbow resting on the table. “They gave me an extension. I’m on an official leave of absence. They’ve finally hired a part-time doctor so they aren’t too short-staffed with me gone. They didn’t give me a specific return date, just asked that I keep them in loop so… so that if I decide not to come back, they can start looking for someone to replace me as soon as possible.”
“Are you still considering not going back?” Jungkook asks, clearly a little surprised. “I thought… I don’t know, I guess I thought maybe you and Namjoon…”
“I don’t know,” Seokjin says softly, barely more than a whisper. “I’m not ready to think about him yet. I’m so grateful that he came here to be with me during all of this, and I promised him that I will at least have another conversation with him, but I don’t know what I want anymore. I know that I love him, but…” he exhales, looking absolutely drained. “I just don’t know if it’s enough anymore.” Almost as an afterthought, he adds, “I don’t know if I have anything left to give, Kookie.”
Jungkook looks at him gently, but also a little sad. “I think you’re hurting too much right now to think about anything else. You have to give yourself time to grieve and to process things. No one is rushing you to make any decisions right now.”
“Yeah,” Seokjin murmurs, looking down at the table.
He feels more lost than he ever has before.
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Two Weeks Since The Funeral
Seokjin decides to spend the day out of the house. He borrows Jungkook’s truck and drives outside of town until the road turns to dirt. Eventually the road dead ends, and he pulls over to park. He grabs his prepared backpack from the passenger seat and climbs out, starting off along a path into the woods.
It takes him about twenty minutes to reach his destination. There’s a field at the edge of a small cliff that looks down over the town. He can see the entire town and miles beyond it from here. His mother used to bring him to this spot when he was little, and she would tell him that if he looked hard enough, he could see the city in the distance.
That turned out to not be quite true, but if Seokjin looks hard enough right now, he can imagine it. He can imagine the skyscrapers that became his new skyline, and the streets that became his new home. The city had felt like a far off dream when he was little – an even further one when his mother got sick. But when he got accepted to the university, his mother wouldn’t let him turn it down.
He moved to Seoul thinking it would be short-term. He’d get his degree, and then he would return home to be close to his mother. That was until a certain boy with dimples had entered his life like a meteor, at the time so warm and beautiful, but maybe it was meant to burn out eventually.
Seokjin sits in the grass, bending his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs as he stares out. He’s not sure how long he sits there for, or why exactly he is here. For the memories, sure, but maybe he was hoping for something else.
Maybe for a sign of what to do next.
He doesn’t receive one.
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One Month Since The Funeral
“Thanks again for this,” Mrs. Lee, a neighbor from down the street, says after Seokjin helps her load several boxes of clothes into the back of her van. Mrs. Lee runs the women’s shelter in town, and had been a good friend with his mother.
Seokjin waves off her gratitude. “My mom would want her things to go to people who need them rather than just sitting in her closet.”
Mrs. Lee gives him a small, understanding smile. “You’ve been going through her things?”
“Slowly,” Seokjin replies. “Little by little.” He doesn’t elaborate further. He doesn’t like to talk about it much. He knows it might not be healthy to keep things bottled up, but he’s just not ready to be an open book about his grief yet.
“I get it,” Mrs. Lee says with a small hum. “It took me a long time before I could start going through Iseul’s things when he passed. We’d been married for thirty years. He was my partner in everything. When he passed, I left his things untouched for months.” She gives a small shrug. “Grief is different for everyone. There’s no timeline for it, and it comes and goes in waves. I still miss him every day, but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. It’s more of a longing for someone you haven’t seen in a while.”
Seokjin doesn’t say anything, only managing a small nod.
Mrs. Lee doesn’t seem upset nor surprised by this, instead reaching over to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be easier to talk about eventually.” She lets go of his arm then and opens her car door. “If you ever need anything, give me a call.”
“I will,” he promises. He thinks he actually means it.
She gets in her car then and begins to drive, pausing after pulling out of the driveway to wave at him before disappearing down the road. Seokjin watches her car until it is out of sight before walking to the mailbox to check it.
He flips through the various envelopes as he walks back up the driveway, mentally organizing what he needs to deal with and what is junk. He’s taken the time to get all of his mother’s things in order, halting her accounts and transferring things accordingly. He pauses when he gets to the last item, which is a purple envelope. He recognizes Taehyung’s messy handwriting on the front.
Seokjin stops walking halfway up the driveway, tearing the envelope open. There’s a written note inside.
Hi hyung,
It probably seems a bit odd that I’m sending you this letter, but it’s just what felt right. I know Namjoon has been giving you some space, but I wanted to let you know that he is going to be headlining his own gallery. The opening night is January 15th here in Seoul.
Namjoon has no idea I’m inviting you, so there’s no pressure, okay? I just thought you might want to know. I’ve included two tickets for you and Jungkook. I hope you can make it, if it’s what is right for you.
Miss you. Call me soon?
Tae
Seokjin reads over the letter a few more times before pulling the tickets out of the envelope. His lips stretch into an involuntary smile as he reads them, pride swelling in his chest as he sees Namjoon’s name in bold.
Namjoon got what he wanted. He did it.
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Christmas Day, One Month and Two Weeks Since The Funeral
Seokjin spends Christmas with Jungkook and his family. They help him feel not as empty. It’s still a tough day – the first major holiday without his mom – but it’s not as horrible as it could have been thanks to them.
He talks on the phone with Jimin for a bit too, which makes him feel warm. The younger fills him in on everything that has been going on in Seoul, and reassures him that Koya is doing great. He rambles for a while, and Seokjin is happy to just listen. He misses him.
After a while, Jimin’s tone turns a bit somber as he asks, “How have you been doing, hyung?”
“Taking it day by day,” Seokjin replies. “I’ve gotten things cleaned up around the house. I’ve donated some of her stuff, and I’ve packed up some of the things I want to hold onto. It’s been tough, but Jungkook and his family have been great. The whole town has been, really. They all loved her.”
“She was clearly a wonderful person to have so many people who cared for her,” Jimin says.
“Yeah,” Seokjin murmurs.
“Tae told me he invited you to Namjoon’s gallery,” Jimin says, almost sounding a little unsure. “Have… are you thinking about coming?”
“I don’t know yet,” Seokjin tells him honestly. “I’m still figuring stuff out, and… it would be unfair of me to show up if I haven’t made up my mind about some things. I don’t want to give him false hope.”
“Of course,” Jimin agrees, even if he sounds a bit sad. “You have to do what is best for you.” He pauses before adding. “I miss you. We all do. Do you think we could get together soon? I could drive out there for a weekend, or –”
Seokjin cuts him off, hating himself a little for doing so. “I’ll think about it.” Today has been an emotionally exhausting day, and he doesn’t have the energy for anything more. Feeling bad, he adds, “I miss you too, Jiminie. I’m just not myself yet.”
“It’s okay,” Jimin says softly. “I get it, hyung. I promise I do.”
“Thanks,” Seokjin says, slumping a bit further down in his chair. “I’ll… I’ll call you soon, okay?”
“Okay, hyung. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Jimin.” Seokjin hangs up.
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Jimin sighs, keeping the phone pressed against his ear for a moment longer before lowering it and looking at Taehyung and shaking his head. “I don’t think he’s going to come.”
Taehyung’s shoulders slump. “How did he sound? I’ve tried calling him a few times since the funeral, but he never answers. He just texts me a few hours later.”
“He sounded tired,” Jimin replies. “I’m worried about him.”
“It is Christmas,” Taehyung points out. “The first one without his mom. That must have been hard.”
Jimin nods. “He said he spent the day with Jungkook’s family.”
“That’s good at least,” Taehyung says, sounding a little relieved. “I was worried he’d be alone. I almost drove out there yesterday, but he didn’t answer my call, and I wasn’t sure if he’d want me to just show up. I didn’t want him to think I was pressuring him about the gallery.”
Jimin sighs. “We just have to keep showing him that we are there for him. He might not be very present with us right now, but he will be when he’s ready. Until then, we just have to continue to support him in whatever way he lets us, and be patient until he’s ready to live his life again.”
Taehyung nods, leaning into Jimin’s side. Jimin wraps his arm around Taehyung’s shoulders and gives him a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be okay, Tae. He’s going to be alright.”
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January 15th
“How are you feeling?”
Namjoon looks at Taehyung, swallowing nervously. They’re at the gallery, doing a last check that everything is in place before the event starts in a couple hours. It’s surreal to see so many of his paintings on display, front and center rather than in a section off to the side or toward the back. “Like I’m going to throw up.”
Taehyung smacks his shoulder with a mix of a laugh and a scoff. “Come on, hyung! This is amazing. This is everything you ever wanted, and it’s finally happening!”
“I know, I know,” Namjoon says. “But it just – it doesn’t feel real.” He starts to wander the space again, feeling the need to do something .
“This is my favorite from your new collection.”
Namjoon looks over his shoulder to see that Taehyung is standing in front of one of his larger paintings. Namjoon walks over to stand beside him, gazing at the painting. Namjoon does mostly landscapes but with an abstract and modern twist, and he often drifts toward a darker color palette, but this one is different. It’s lighter, with soft strokes and no harsh lines. The contrast within the painting is gentle and soothing, and Namjoon feels a bit of peace as he looks at it.
“What did you call it?” Taehyung asks, about to step forward to read the information on the wall beside the painting.
“Angel,” Namjoon answers before Taehyung can even move, looking at the painting with a sense of longing. “I named it after Seokjin.”
Taehyung’s expression turns a little sad as he gazes at the painting, and his tone is soft as he says, “It’s beautiful.”
The corner of Namjoon’s mouth tilts upward in a small smile, but he doesn’t say anything else. He stares at the painting for a few moments longer before taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, ready to take on the night.
His first solo gallery.
It starts not long after, and it’s nearly an immediate success. The turnout is incredible, the gallery filled with people observing and gushing over his work. Namjoon can’t believe what his life has become, but as he takes a moment to himself to stand off to the side and observe the room, he can’t help but feel like something is missing.
Like someone is missing.
This is everything he ever wanted, and so many people have come to support him, but there’s only one person he truly wants to share this moment with.
Namjoon pulls out his phone, not exactly sure what he’s expecting. He hasn’t heard from Seokjin since the day Namjoon left to come back to Seoul. Other than the few pictures of Koya he has sent, Namjoon hasn’t reached out, wanting to give Seokjin as much space as he needs while trying to hold onto the faith that Seokjin will come back to him when he’s ready.
Someone taps his shoulder, and he puts his phone back in his pocket and plasters a smile on his face before turning around to greet them.
Everything around him goes still, fading into a blur of nothingness, and his smile slowly turns into a look of disbelief as he looks into the eyes of the person he loves. “Seokjin?”
Seokjin smiles back at him, both tender and a little nervous. “Hi. Sorry I’m late.”
He looks beautiful. His hair has grown out since Namjoon last saw him, and he has it tucked behind his ear on one side. His cheeks have a healthy glow to them, and he’s dressed in a navy suit. Nothing else exists around them right now. It’s just him and Seokjin. His angel.
“What –” Namjoon is completely breathless, has nearly forgotten how to speak. “You – you’re here? What – what are you doing here?”
“Taehyung invited me,” Seokjin says, and his voice is warm, and Namjoon thinks he might start crying on the spot. He looks over Seokjin’s shoulder to see Taehyung watching them, a huge grin on his face. Seokjin glances at Taehyung before turning back to look at Namjoon. “Besides, I always promised you that I’d be at your side when you had your first solo gallery.” He reaches forward to give Namjoon’s upper arm a squeeze. “You did it, Joon. I always knew you would. I’m so proud of you.”
Namjoon can’t stop himself. He places his hand over Seokjin’s, staring at him for a moment like he still can’t believe he is really here before lifting Seokjin’s hand and enveloping it within both of his own, holding it close to his chest. He starts to get choked up as he says, “I – I can’t believe you’re here.”
Seokjin is still looking at him softly, and Namjoon wishes he could stay in this moment forever, because Seokjin is looking at him like he used to… is looking at him like he still loves him.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant,” Seokjin says, not making any move to try to pull his hand back. Instead, he takes a small step closer. “I know I promised to keep in touch, but I needed some time to myself. I needed to figure some things out.”
“And have you?” Namjoon asks. “Have you figured things out?”
Seokjin nods. “I’m keeping my mother’s house.”
Namjoon’s heart starts to crumble within his chest, but then Seokjin is stepping even closer and quickly adding:
“Jungkook is going to rent it from me. That way I don’t have to sell, and he can have a bigger space than his apartment. I’m not quite ready to let go of it yet, so it’s a perfect solution. As for me, I turned down the offer from the local vet. It was a great offer, but you were right when you said that I love being an emergency vet. I’m not ready to let go of that either.”
“So… so you’re coming back to Seoul?” Namjoon asks, his heart putting itself back together and now feeling like it’s going to beat right out of his chest.
“I am,” Seokjin confirms. “There’s still one more thing I’m not ready to let go of yet.” His eyes flicker over Namjoon’s face. “What about you? Have you figured out what you want?”
Namjoon holds his hand tighter. “I have everything I want right here.” He reaches up with one hand to gently stroke Seokjin’s cheek with his knuckles, inhaling when Seokjin nuzzles into his palm. “I took a step back and regrouped. I took some time to figure out where I want to go from here, and I’ve come to a few conclusions.”
Seokjin looks at him, eyebrows raised as he waits for him to continue.
“One,” Namjoon starts, “This will be my last gallery for a little while, and I’m never taking on more than one gallery at a time ever again. I spread myself too thin, and it led me to be unfair to you and to our relationship. That was wrong of me. And two…” His eyes flicker to Seokjin’s lips for a brief moment. “My career is not everything to me. But you? You are. Seokjin, you are the light of my world, and these past few months have been so dim and heavy without you. I can always make another painting, can always find another gallery, but I can’t find another you. And – and if you’ll have me, if you’ll give me another chance, I –”
He’s cut off by Seokjin kissing him. Namjoon’s heart somersaults right into his stomach and then lifts back up again. He lets go of Seokjin’s hand to instead wrap his arms around him, pulling him close, closer, impossibly close, until Seokjin is laughing against his lips.
Seokjin leans back then, keeping his hands on Namjoon’s shoulders as he smiles up at him softly, cheeks a little flushed.
“Is that a yes?” Namjoon asks, tears gathering on his lower lashline.
“We still need to talk about some things,” Seokjin cautions him even as his smile grows. “But I know my mom wouldn’t want me to stay stuck in the past. People make mistakes, Joon. I can’t let myself be unable to move forward. So yes, I’ll have you.”
Namjoon swoops in for another kiss. Someone cheers, and they break apart to see Taehyung clapping excitedly. The others stand just behind him, including Jungkook, and they all are grinning happily.
Seokjin steps away from Namjoon then, giving his hand one last squeeze before walking toward the others. Taehyung immediately pulls him into a hug, which quickly turns into a group hug. Other guests of the gallery are watching with amused smiles, realizing the moment is special even if they don’t quite understand what is going on.
Namjoon’s heart is soaring as he remains in the same spot, watching them all hug and greet each other. It’s a surreal moment, standing in his first solo gallery, surrounded by the people he loves. Seokjin looks back at him, and Namjoon is pulled to him like gravity, walking over to join them and instantly being pulled into the circle they have gathered in.
In this moment, nothing else matters. Not even the gallery, or the guests, or anything else in the entire world. All that matters are these people right here. These special, amazing people, and most importantly, his angel.
Two Months Later
“Can I take the blindfold off now?”
“Not yet!” Namjoon laughs, helping guide Seokjin through the doorway. “Just a few more steps.”
Seokjin huffs. “I swear, if this is some kind of prank –”
Namjoon grabs his shoulders to stop him from walking, rolling his eyes fondly. “It’s not.” He glances around, biting his bottom lip nervously before nodding to himself and saying, “Okay. You can take it off now.”
Seokjin reaches up to take the blindfold off, blinking a few times as his eyes adjust. His eyebrows pinch together as he looks around, taking in the place that Namjoon has brought him to. He’s standing in what appears to be an empty living room, and he can see a large kitchen to his left and a staircase to his right. He turns to look at Namjoon. “Where are we?”
“This,” Namjoon says as he gestures around them, smiling nervously, “is a townhouse that is available. Our lease is up for renewal soon, and we’ve been talking about getting something bigger, and then I saw the ad for this place…” He starts walking around, pointing at different rooms as he does. “The kitchen is huge , hyung. You could cook anything you wanted in there. And there’s a room that I was thinking we could convert into a library with a rolling ladder, like you’ve always wanted. And I could make one of the bedrooms into a studio, which means I could work from home more. There’s two more bedrooms, so we would have a spare when Jungkook comes to visit. There’s a small yard, too, for Koya.” He falters, looking a little sheepish. “You don’t have to say yes, of course. We can keep looking. But I – I just thought –”
“Namjoon,” Seokjin cuts in.
Namjoon’s eyes are wide with hope. “Yeah?”
Seokjin walks over to him, looping his arms around his neck and smiling up at him warmly. “It’s perfect.”
Namjoon places his hands on his waist, rubbing his hips with his thumbs. “You really like it?”
“I love it,” Seokjin says. “It’s everything we’ve been looking for with the potential to make it into the home we’ve dreamed of for each other. This place…” he smiles as he looks around. Namjoon’s eyes never leave his face. He turns his head back to look at him, his smile growing as their noses brush. “This place is our future.”
“I can’t wait,” Namjoon murmurs, his breath ghosting against Seokjin’s cheek, “to build a forever with you.”
Seokjin brushes their noses together again. “Either can I.”
Namjoon starts to sway them back and forth in a slow dance, humming softly under his breath. A few months ago, he thought he had lost it all – the love of his life and the future he had dreamed of for them. He made a lot of mistakes, but the universe is always throwing out lessons, and he has certainly learned this one.
He lost it all once, but he got it back.
And he’s never letting it go.