Archive of Our Own

But then he heard the broker, Jimin, usher someone new into the viewing, and just as quickly as his dream sprung up, it was shattered. Because he’d only caught the faintest glimpse of the threadbare brown coat you’d loved so much, and the tell-tale fringe of your scarf that he’d gifted you for your very first anniversary, but Jin knew it was you.

His ex-fiancée. Or was that even the right term when it’d been eight years since you broke up? When Seokjin had spent almost nearly as much time apart from you as he had with you? 

He ducks into one of the bedrooms, out of Jimin’s sight, and sucks in a sharp breath, blinking and shaking his head. Who was he kidding? That coat could belong to anyone, anyone could own that scarf. Not just the former love of his life who as far as he knew, had faded into obscurity after dropping out of law school. Who probably moved halfway across the world just to avoid the sight of him. The person who he’d once shared an entire life with, and now they had nothing left in common.

Seokjin shivers as he stares outside the window, watching the snow fall down, a colourless shroud, and he grits his teeth. The journey home would not be fun.

Hearing shuffling behind him, he turns, thinking it’s Jimin coming to ask him what he thinks, but he’s met with a small gasp.

“Jin,” you whisper softly. “I knew it was you.”

And before Seokjin can react, you’re pulling him into you, tucking your head into his shoulder, and he’s breathing in your faint soapy smell, reminded of the shampoo you used to love so much. The wool of your scarf doesn’t feel as scratchy as he remembers, and he’s comforted by its familiar presence, by your familiar presence in his arms. It’s been too long.

“You moved back,” he mutters into your hair, and immediately you freeze, pulling back, eyes on the floor.

“I found a new job,” you tell him, and as much as Seokjin wants to press, he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel like he has a right to ask, to know about your life not that you’re not together anymore. So instead, he remains silent, taking you in. 

You hadn’t changed much. You looked older, maybe a few more lines on your face, but your eyes were still the same. That smile was still the same, and he knew he had to be careful around it.

“How are we doing in here, oh—”

Jimin takes that moment to walk in, his eyes glinting with questions as he takes in the two of you, so close yet standing apart, and he raises an eyebrow.

“We knew each other,” Seokjin steps in, immediately wanting to diffuse the awkward tension. “She’s my ex-w–”

You look at him, eyes glassy and in shock. He’d been about to say wife. Because you had been, almost. There had only been a few months to the wedding when you’d decided to go, sending Seokjin off over a cup of coffee on a chilly autumn day in the park.

“Well, it sounds like you have a lot to think about,” Jimin chuckles before retreating, and Seokjin knows he’s not just talking about the apartment.

It’s only natural for him to chase you down after you’ve both left, following you into a nearby cafe.

Turning on your heel, you look at the sight of your ex, still as handsome as ever with his wool coat and snow in his hair, and you let out a big sigh. You weren’t going to hate him. You didn’t hate him.

“What do you want?” you blurt out, and Seokjin recoils briefly, in shock at your question before straightening.

“An espresso,” he responds, and you grin.

“You used to be more of a latte man, what happened?” you ask.

“I don’t know, I guess I just got a lot more bitter,” he grunts, and you let out another heavy sigh.

“I know you have questions Jin, and I want to answer them, I really do, but can we just sit here for a bit? And drink our coffee first?”

And so you do, the two of you sipping on the hot drinks, taking each other in for the first time in many years. You know Seokjin isn’t actually upset with you, that it was more the shock speaking for him. He’d barely raised his voice at you when you left, nodding along quietly and watching you go without a word. You made no promises to him, and he didn’t make any to you.

You tried your hardest to keep up with him back then, but law school had sucked the life out of you. While Seokjin had been everyone’s favourite, the star pupil and class president, you were just… there, right next to him. It had been your own guilt and unhappiness that had driven you away, never anything to do with him. But Seokjin was stubborn, persistent that you could stay, that things would work out on their own. 

“There was no other option,” you tell him quietly, and he nods over the cup of coffee, looking out the window, and you so desperately want him to look at you instead. 

“Don’t you get it?” you want to scream at him, but keep your voice level. “I had to drop out, I had to go find my own way, to travel, to figure out what really made me happy?”

“And are you?” Seokjin interrupts. “Happy, I mean?”

You pause, not knowing how to answer him.

“What about you?” you fire back. “You’ve lived in the apartment for years, even before me. What makes you want to move now?”

“I’ve stayed there for too long. It used to feel like home… now it just feels like a rut. One that I can’t get out of, no matter how hard I try. But you wouldn’t understand, would you? You never wanted to stay.”

You square your shoulders, sitting up straight. You couldn’t keep up this conversation. You hadn’t been able to have it eight years ago, and it was far too late for it now. Instead, you needed a place to live, to turn over a new leaf, and it seemed like Seokjin did too. Which brought you to why the two of you were even here together in the first place.

“I want that apartment, Seokjin. I know you want it too, I saw it in your eyes. We both need this. But I can’t afford it. Not on my own.”

“What are you asking?” Seokjin says, his eyes turning dark.

“Kim Seokjin, I’m asking you to be my roommate.”

This was insane, Seokjin thinks as he packs up the last of his kitchen supplies, surrounded by boxes. This has to be the most insane thing he’d ever done.

He’d called Namjoon over a dozen times the past week since he’d met you in the coffee shop, ranting to his brother about the odd proposal you’d given him.

“Is she still the same?” Namjoon echoed over the phone, disdain lacing his voice. He hadn’t been the biggest fan of you leaving his older brother broken hearted. 

“That doesn’t matter, what matters is what I’m supposed to do about this!” Seokjin spits into the line, feeling his face grow hot.

“Easy, just say no,” Namjoon responds. “Exes are bad news, hyung. It’s not worth getting caught up with any of them, no matter how good the relationship used to be.”

Seokjin pauses for a second. Namjoon had made it sound so easy. Just saying no. But what complicated things was the fact that it was you he was saying no to. 

Seokjin knew you left on your own accord. He knew you needed to find a sense of purpose, one that didn’t revolve around just him and law school, and getting married. But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt. 

When he’d seen you again, he’d imagined, for a brief moment, the years that had been lost between you. The ones you could have spent living together, waking up to each other every day. Burning toast on Sunday morning, putting up Christmas trees every winter, dancing as the snow fell outside. And here you were, offering him a chance to maybe, just maybe get those lost years back. Or whatever shreds of them he could recover.

“You can’t say no, can you?” Namjoon says over the phone, defeat in his voice, and Seokjin realizes he’s been silent for too long. 

“I didn’t fight for her when I should have, Namjoon-ah, I can’t miss that opportunity again.”

The words come back to him as he sits in the kitchen alone. Looking around, he realizes how few boxes he actually had. He thought most of his life had been in this apartment, but the more he thought about it, he realized he was never really attached to the things here. It was more the memories, or lack of them that he had, living here by himself, trying too hard to get over you.

He’d never brought a date home here. Namjoon refused to visit, and Seokjin had just stopped asking, fitting seamlessly into the fabric of the lives of those around him, while never pausing to think about his own. 

A knock at the door breaks him out of his thoughts, and he opens it to find the movers. As he watches them lift up the things, he’s surprised by how light he feels. Maybe letting go wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“You have a big, strong, handsome ex fiancé moving in with you, and you still choose to bring up your own things why?” Nixie, your best friend, groans as she carries up another box, plopping it into your room. 

You’d chosen the smaller of the two, while Seokjin got the bigger one, knowing he put more money towards the rent from his job. 

“Because he’s not my anything, he’s my roommate, and we don’t owe each other anything,” you tell her. 

“Not to burst your bubble ___, but most people don’t exactly end up shacking up with their former fiancé and expect to be just roommates.”

“Well we are,” you brush her off, and she turns to start unloading stuff into the closet. “We have completely different lifestyles. He works at an office, I work from cafes and libraries or at home. He works during the day, I’m most productive at night. We’ll barely run into each other.”

And you hadn’t, so far. Seokjin had moved in quietly when you weren’t there, his stuff magically appearing in the living room one day. You hadn’t seen him around since, but you figured he was probably living with his brother until your contract officially started.

The two of you had decided to give it six weeks, right until the New Year. Six weeks of living together, seeing if you could tolerate each other. If it didn’t work out, Seokjin had graciously agreed to move out, and help you find a new roommate. 

It sounded so foolproof when you thought of it in your head. 

“Okay, I trust that you know what you’re doing,” Nixie says. “After all, we’re not the same as we were eight years ago.”

The two of you chat for a little longer before she has to leave to her own place, and you’re left on your own. A few hours pass, and you’re finally done unpacking most of your room when you hear the jangling of keys, and the door creak open. 

The sound of boots echoes in the hallway, and you know it’s Seokjin. You hide underneath the covers on your mattress, not wanting him to know you’re awake. 

He shuffles around in the kitchen for a little bit, and then it falls silent. Thinking the coast is clear, you tiptoe outside your room, searching for a drink of water, when you see him slumped on the living room floor, his head in his hands.

Your face softens at his serious figure, and you walk over to him, plopping down next to him. He shifts slightly, his eyes widening in surprise at your presence, and you look down to see that you’d never changed out of your bunny printed pyjama shorts.

Clearing your throat, you speak softly, afraid to put him even more on edge.

“I realize that this was maybe unfair of me to ask you for, but you were the only person I could think of that wouldn’t try to accidentally hit on me and then poach the lease right out of my hands.”

Seokjin chuckles at that, turning to look at you.

“You don’t have to worry about me hitting on you, I’m too old for that.”

“We’re the same age.”

“Is this really a good idea, ___? Us?” He asks softly.

You freeze. There was no “us” between the two of you. There hadn’t been for a long time. But maybe there could be. A new version of normal, one where you and Seokjin lived happily together yet apart, content with your lives.

“I don’t know,” you tell him. “All I know is that being here, in this space, I feel happy for the first time in a long time. Like my life is finally falling into place. And I don’t want that feeling to stop, even after the month is over.”

Seokjin freezes next to you, and he knows you’re not talking about him, but he imagines you could be. 

“It’s going to take some time for me to adjust to this, he says.

“Me too. We’ll try our best. That’s all we can do, right?”

I tried my best, the words ring in Seokjin’s ears. The same ones you told him when you said you were leaving. 

“Right.”

As December settles in, Seokjin thinks he could get used to the idea of living here. The home is so inviting, the crown bricks covered in snow making him think of Santa’s house in all those Christmas movies he’d watched as a kid. Every evening when he’d get inside after work, he would smell coffee, knowing you’d probably just left to the library to continue your work. 

It was quiet, and he was content. Until you stopped him one day in the kitchen, up before he was, shoving a plate full of cheese and crackers towards him.

“I want to get a cat.”

“You don’t have to ask me to get a cat,” he grumbled. “We’re adults.”

“I know, but you’re my roommate and it’s common courtesy. I saw one I’d like to adopt near the end of this week. He’s older, and they said he was super quiet. I’ll keep the litter box in my room.”

And that was how Seokjin also became roommates with Cheese. As much as he tried to ignore the little rascal, Cheese would always curl up next to him at the most random times, purring when Seokjin gave him scratches on the head. 

He adjusted to you and Cheese better than he thought. The two of you were friendly, pausing to chat briefly at random points when you’d bump into each other during the day, oftentimes when one of you was leaving and the other was returning.

Seokjin even shared his wine collection with you, telling you that you could help yourself to any of the expensive bottles. Maybe it was the giving holiday spirit. Maybe it was just you making him soft. 

You’d started waking up earlier, leaving him a little pile of cut up fruit on the counter every morning, the oranges peeled just the way he liked them, which only you’d ever been able to do. 

But it never went beyond that. Seokjin still didn’t know who you were, what you did. And you kept your distance. Sometimes when he’d see you coming back from a trip outside, he resisted the urge to smooth down your frazzled hair after you’d taken your hat and scarf off, but he stopped himself.  He also stopped himself from staring for too long when you’d wear those forsaken bunny printed pyjama shorts, trying not to focus on how good your butt looked. 

It was a silly little crush on his roommate, he brushed it off in his mind. He’d get over it.

It was the week before Christmas, and you were in hustle mode. Your editor wanted you to get the latest piece to him in time for Christmas Day, so you’d been holed up in the library, writing away on your laptop and downing copious amounts of cofffee. 

You’d managed to get through about four pages of writing before the pain in your stomach set in. Grimacing, you brace an arm around your middle, hobbling to the bathroom before the cramps take over, and you stumble, crashing to the floor. You dial Nixie, but it’s late and she doesn’t pick up. Scrolling through your phone, you resign yourself to putting in Seokjin’s number, relieved when he picks up on the first ring even though he should be at work.

“Can you come and get me please?”

Seokjin’s face was as pale as a ghost when he found you lying on the library bathroom’s floor, passed out. You stir as reaches around you, supporting you with one arm as the two of you rise.

“I’m so sorry,” you croak out. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Please stop apologizing,” he says softly. “It’s not your fault.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about you getting sick or something else. His warm arms come around you as he walks the two of you to his car, placing you gently in the passenger seat and turning on the heating so you wouldn’t freeze. The entire ride, his hand remains on your thigh, the burn of his hand on the fabric of your jeans almost as prominent as the nauseating sensations you were experiencing in your stomach. He doesn’t ask, just glances over occasionally when the car stops to see your eyes flutter shut, and the rest of the ride is quiet.

You wake up enough for him to drag you up the stairs, before turning and closing yourself into the bathroom, sobbing under the heat of the shower. Everything ached. From the cramps to your own heart, it all hurt. And the only thing that made it better was Seokjin. But you’d lost him, and now you couldn’t go back to the way things were before. You begin to question why you’d even wanted him to live with you in the first place, knowing that you’d inevitably desire his comforting touch again. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved, and despite being happy, you hadn’t felt that way in so long. 

When you slip out of the shower in fresh pyjamas, he’s there, sitting on your bed. You don’t get angry with him for letting himself into your room, instead sitting next to him on the bed. He doesn’t ask questions, just drawing your hand into his own.

“You know if you ever need anything, I’m here,” he says into the darkness.

“Can you stay with me?” you ask, pulling him into you until his chest is resting against your back, feeling the rough scratch of his crisp white dress shirt, and in seconds, you’re asleep.

You sleep better than you’ve slept the entire time you’ve been in the apartment. But it makes no difference when you wake up alone, Cheese eyeing you curiously. Seokjin was gone.

“I can’t do this,” Seokjin rubs in between his eyebrows, staring at Namjoon with bloodshot eyes over his brunch. He’d left early, before you could even wake up, his heart turning over and over in his chest at the sight of you seeming so small, so vulnerable, doubled over in pain. He knew it was probably nothing to be worried about, but when it came to you, Seokjin couldn’t help but worry. 

“You still love her,” Namjoon says, and he doesn’t sound disappointed. His voice is even, flat with acceptance.

“Is it crazy of me to think that it just wasn’t the right time? That we both needed to grow up and figure out our lives? I mean, we were barely about to graduate. Of course we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing. No one does at that age.”

“But she left,” Namjoon interjects, his eyes full of concern. “She left, and maybe she did change, hyung. Maybe she’s better for it. But you, you just let her hurt you. You stayed the same, for so many years, going to work every day, making money, never letting anyone else in. And now, all of a sudden, she’s back, and you’re acting all different, being friends with her. My question is why.”

Seokjin wonders the same thing, why he’s able to be so attached to you after so many years apart.. You needed time, you needed space, you needed to feel like your own person. And Seokjin could accept all that. But he always thought he’d done something to drive you away. And then he remembers it’s because never once, in the four hour long conversation where the two of you had said goodbye, had you said it was because you didn’t love him. In fact, you’d said it three times exactly - once at the very beginning, one time in the middle, and right at the end.

He straightens up, and a warm, fizzy feeling runs through his veins. The last thing you had said was “I love you.” And now here you were, eight years later, by his side again. Was it crazy to think it was because you still loved him too?

The dress was green, with glittering sequins in the shape of stars. It was breathtaking. And now it was lying on your bed. 

“Come with me to my work holiday party?” Seokjin had asked earlier in the week, and you don’t know what had possessed you to say yes. You’d softened towards him considerably ever since he’d taken care of you while you were sick, not saying anything when he slipped into your bed in the middle of the night, but not pushing him away either.

You still were afraid to talk about it. Afraid that he wouldn’t forgive you for running away, for putting yourself over the relationship. Even though you knew you weren’t selfish, the mere though of Seokjin ever seeing you as such pained you.

And now here you were, his date to a swanky holiday party. When you’d asked why, he’d laughed it off, saying last minute dates were a hot commodity, and he didn’t want to have to resort to Tinder. A pang of jealousy bubbled up in your chest at the thought of Seokjin with a younger, prettier girl on his arm, and you’d sulkily made up your mind that going with him was best. However, putting on the stunning dress and having the experience of Seokjin nearly stumbling while lacing his dress shoes made you feel a tiny bit better.

You watch the people around you swarm and flock to each other, exchanging hugs and holiday wishes, and painfully miss Seokjin’s presence next to yours, keeping your beating heart calm. As if he sensed your discomfort, he’s there in the next minute, holding out a drink for you. You accept, hoping the alcohol will calm your nerves.

You feel out of place here. This was Seokjin’s wheelhouse, Seokjin’s territory. He’d always been the people pleaser, while you preferred to hang back. 

An older couple comes up to you, and Seokjin straightens up, putting his drink down and greeting the man with a handshake.

“This is my boss, Mr. Nam,” he says, faltering when he turns to introduce you. “And this is ___, she’s my, uh—, we’re, she’s my—”

“Roommate,” you interject quickly.

“Ahhhh so you’re together then?” The woman you assume is Mrs. Nam claps her hands together in delight. 

“No no no!” Seokjin tries to manage the messy misunderstanding. “We live together. As in just one together. Together-ish.”

A smile slips onto your lips when you see his ears redden in frustration, and you give his hand a squeeze. Mr. and Mrs. Nam catch sight of your clasped hands and smilen again, before saying how wonderful it was to meet you and excusing themselves to get some food.

“No need to be nervous,” you tell Seokjin after they’ve left. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah, it’s just you,” Seokjin echoes, and there’s a far away look in his eyes, one you can’t place. “Should we go out to the balcony?”

He leads you along, his hand tucked into the curve of your waist, and you bump into more people, Seokjin recovering and introducing you without the roommate title. It all feels surreal, like a dream you never dared yourself to have, and you reflect on how this could have been the life you had together, if things hadn’t come apart.

When you’re outside, you begin to shiver, and Seokjin eases his coat off, and you dodge it, telling him you’re fine, the two of you dancing awkwardly around each other. After a few moments, you begrudgingly accept the coat, sinking into its warmth and breathing in Seokjin’s clean smell.

“You’ve changed a lot, ___,” he says. “You seem calmer. Happier. You really like writing, don’t you?”

You want to act shocked that he finally figured out what your mystery job was, but you knew he would. Seokjin knew you too well, and there was a point where he’d known you better than you’d know yourself.

“What about you?” you respond. “Big hotshot lawyer, finally fulfilling all those ambitions you had for yourself–”

“For us,” he cuts you off. “I had them for us.”

“And I ruined them, right? By leaving,” you voice shrinks, and you feel tears perk up at the back of your throat. 

“Maybe it was good for me,” he says, looking out onto the city. “Maybe I had to learn how to be myself without you too.”

“Not everything has to be a lesson, Jin,” you tell him. “Not everything has to mean something grand and philosophical. You’re allowed to miss it. To miss us. I miss it too. Sometimes I wake up in my bed, with Cheese, and it doesn’t even feel real that you’re here with me again, right down the hall. How we’re both the same, yet different in so many ways. And it scares me because even though living with you again is like nothing I could have expected, I still love you. More than I should.”

You pause on the last words, your breath coming out in frozen puffs, and watch Seokjin’s eyes flicker with longing. He pauses, before drawing you into him, his finger tips entwining with yours. 

“It’s not like it was before because it’s better,” he whispers against your lips, before he closes the distance in between you two.

Sparks explode across your skin when he kisses you, your hands swinging around his neck, and you feel like a teenager in love again, discovering how good it felt to be held for the first time. You sway from the wash of emotions that come over you, and Seokjin’s hands are there, steadying you as you break apart, rubbing his cheek against yours and pressing tiny kisses all the way from your temple to your hair.

“___, there’s something I have to tell you,” he whispers into your hair, when suddenly, your quiet moment of peace is interrupted by a loud yell. The two of you break apart, cheeks flaming with heat, and you look away, not wanting to seem suspicious after basically lying to everyone the whole evening.

“Seokjin!! Congratulations on the promotion,” one of his coworkers you’d met earlier, Hoseok, runs up to him. “Singapore won’t be ready for you after the New Year hits!”

More and more people join the swarm, clapping Seokjin on the back, and his eyes look to you in panic. 

“This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out,” he mouths to you, but you barely acknowledge it, your eyes filling up with tears.

He never had any plans to stay on as your roommate. He’d wanted to leave the entire time. 

You rush away from the crowd, Seokjin’s coat still wrapped around you as you cry quietly. Just when you thought that things could finally be okay, that you two could move on from the past together, it had to rear its ugly head once more, reminding you that you didn’t belong together for a reason.

A week passed, and Christmas with it. Seokjin had left quietly to spend the holiday with his own family, and your heart ached with hurt because he hadn’t spoken to you since the night of the party. Or more like you hadn’t spoken to him, holing yourself up in your room and cuddling with Cheese underneath the blankets.

Across from you, the present he’d left outside your door lay unwrapped, and you had half a mind to just throw it out the window and be done with him, once and for all.

Sighing, you open up your laptop, deciding that you should put in an application for a new roommate. You type out a general profile of what you’re looking for, before shutting the computer with a sigh and deciding you weren’t mentally ready to handle the thought of moving on yet. Maybe it’d be easier once Seokjin finally left. 

Rising from your bed, you make your way to the kitchen, opening to fridge to find Cheese’s cat food. Grabbing a spoon to scoop it out, you pause when you realize the bowl is full, and that Cheese hadn’t touched anything yet. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen Cheese all day, sleeping for the better part of the day. 

The door was locked, so he had to be here somewhere. You walk around everywhere, even peeking into Seokjin’s room and calling his name, but to no avail. Standing in the hallway, you feel a cold breeze and gasp. The window had been open. What if Cheese had escaped?

Panicking, you throw on your coat, tears burning in your eyes as you slip on your scarf and shoes. You’d already lost Seokjin, you couldn’t lose the one other person who was holding you together right now. 

You stumble out into the night, shivering when you realiize that there’s a thick blanket of snow outside, deep enough to cover a tiny cat. You slip and slide down the steps, calling out Cheese’s name and running up and down the city streets, the snow coming down heavier.

After half an hour, you decide to give up, voice hoarse from screaming. You make up your mind to put up a missing pet flyer for Cheese immediately. Now that was a task you could focus on.

Trudging up back your street, you come to a pause outside your building, gasping in shock when you see that the front steps’ light is on, and Seokjin is sitting there, a shivering Cheese in his hands.

You immediately run up to him, grabbing Cheese and clutching him to your chest while tears run down your face.

“I found him wandering outside,” Seokjin says, reminding you that he’s still there, and you take a step back from him.

“Thanks for finding him,” you tell him. “I mean it.”

And you turn, cuddling Cheese in your arms, ready to escape to your bedroom once more, when Seokjin’s arm shoots out, grabbing onto yours and spinning you around.

“Please can we talk?” his eyes are desparate as they bore into yours.

“We have nothing to talk about,” you tell him coolly. “I’ve already made arrangements to find another roommate.”

“I rejected the promotion,” he says hastily, and you freeze. “It shouldn’t have taken me this long. I accepted it before we moved in together, and I just thought I could put it off until…”

“Until what? You broke my heart just as bad as I broke yours?” you hiss, feeling guilty at the way his face falls.

“Until I realized how much I don’t want to move out.”

He reaches out, scratching Cheese in between his ears, and the image is so domestic it makes your heart hurt.

“What if we aren’t meant to be together?” you tell him meekly. “What if there was a reason we didn’t work out the first time? What makes now any different?”

“It’s different because even after all this time, I still want to stay here,” Seokjin says, cupping your cold cheeks in his palms. “I still want to be here with you, even after all this time.”

“Are you saying this as my roomate?” you try to lighten the mood, but your heart is doing backflips in your chest.

“I’m saying this as someone who loves you, and who hopes that you believe in taking chances,” he ghosts his thumb over your cheek.

“I took a chance on you, right?” you whisper back, smiling at his gentle touch. “And look where that ended up.”

“Where did it end up?” he teases you in his low voice, and you shiver.

“With you kissing me on New Year’s Eve,” you tell him, and Seokjin pulls you towards him, his fingers running through your hair and tugging at your scarf before he’s kissing you again. 

You remain like that for an infinite number of moments, savoring each other, accepting each other after so long, that you don’t hear the fireworks go off, Cheese shifting uncomfortably in your arms.

“Let’s head inside,” Seokjin presses a kiss to your cheek. “The little guy must be getting cold.”

You step aside, beckoning Seokjin in before you, and he grabs your arm with a grin.

“Lead the way, roomie.”