I slam the door, a shower of paint chips falling to the floor before me.

"Stupid, Yoongi! Stupid! Stupid!" I yell, pacing back and forth. I kick out, my foot hitting the wall and leaving a small dent. A little of my anger drains away at the sight of it, stopping me mid-pace. Groaning, I flop back onto the bed, a cloud of dust flying up around me. I should be grossed out, but right now I just can't bring myself to care. My thoughts are too far away, stuck on a small, mint-haired man that is too stubborn for his own good.

The thought of him brings my anger back and I reach out, plucking a pillow from the top of the bed. I sit up slowly, holding it in front of my face, careful not to let it to close. "Why do you do this to me, Yoongi?" I ask the pillow, pretending that it could actually answer me back.

"Because I'm stupid, Jimin," I make my voice deeper, mocking Yoongi, as I make the pillow dance around. Feeling silly, I toss the pillow to the ground and let myself fall back onto the bed.

"Why do I care so much anyway?" I ask the empty room, my voice echoing back to me in the silence. "I barely know him. Can't I just walk away? Hoseok can have him." I roll over, my gaze landing on my reflection in the mirror across from me. "I know," I say to my reflection, his mouth following my own, "just the thought pisses me off. There's no way I could actually let Hoseok have him, right?" My eyes stare back at me, sadness in their brown depths. Unable to look at them anymore, I roll back onto my back and stare up at the ceiling.

"What am I saying? Yoongi isn't mine to claim. If he doesn't want to be with me, then that's just how it is!" I exclaim, appalled at my controlling behavior. "I used to be so certain of myself, so confident," I say, laughing. "Now look at me! Talking to myself in a crappy motel room!"

I sit up quickly, the room spinning. Once it settles, I stand, making my way to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I glare at my reflection. With my hair disheveled and reddened cheeks, I look like a mess.

"Get a hold of yourself," I say, before taking a step back. I want to take a shower, to let the hot water work out all the soreness in my legs from running, but one glance at the moldy shower has me rethinking the idea. Rather than open myself up to whatever diseases may be in there, I decide to go back to the room. I sit on the bed, sliding until my back is against the wall. I pull my phone out, opening it to my saved part in The Legendary Moonlight Sculptor. I sigh, letting myself get lost in the words.


A shrill ringing fills the room, jolting me from my book. I look around for the source, my eyes coming to land on the small black phone beside the bed. I pick it up, placing it to my ear as the sound of music and voices assaults my ear.

"Hello?" I ask hesitantly, unsure of who would be calling.

"Is this Jimin," a gruff voice asks me.

"Jiminnnn," I hear a voice calling in the background.

"Uh, yeah. That's me."

"Great. You're friend's down here, drunk off his ass. We're about to close. Come get him," he demands before hanging up on me, not even waiting for my answer.

"Yeah, I guess I'll just do that," I say bitterly, slamming the phone down on the receiver. I stand, letting my muscles stretch out after sitting in the same spot for so long. I shove my feet back into my shoes, grumbling the whole time.

"Stupid, Yoongi. Can't even drink right."

I open the door, the cool night air wrapping around me like a soft caress. I sigh and look around for the bar. My eyes land on a blue neon sign, the flickering letters reading "BAR". I make my way toward it, preparing my best lecture for when I saw Yoongi. I'd tell him how much a fool he was to just get super drunk out in the middle nowhere. How childish it is to run away in the middle of a fight, that he should learn to stay and talk like a grown man. Instead he chooses to run, just like a-

My train of thought is derailed when I open the door, a heavy weight slamming into my side. I look down, my mouth dropping when I see Yoongi clinging onto my side.

"Jiminnnn," he whines, burrowing farther into my side.

The same voice from the phone speaks up. "He's been whining since I called you. Wondering where you were. Acting like a kid." My eyes raise from Yoongi, landing on a tall man who was obviously the bartender here. "He already paid his tab. Just get him out of here so I can lock up," he says, shooing us out.

I back out the door awkwardly, unable to move like I usually do with Yoongi clinging onto me. After a few steps, I have enough of it. Huffing, I pull him off of me, holding him at arm's length in front of me. Yoongi pouts, the look causing my heart to stutter for a second as he reaches out to me, making grabby hands.

"Jiminnn," he cries, his voice higher than normal.

Keep your cool, Jimin. I know he's adorable, but you have to be stern.

"Yoongi," I say slowly, "I can't have you clinging onto my side like that. It makes it too hard to walk." His face falls, his cries for me going silent. "But-" His eyes shoot up at the word, excitement gleaming in his eyes, "-You can put your arm over my shoulders. But you have to walk with me, as well as you can. Okay?" He nods vigorously, his green hair bouncing with each movement.

I let go of him and he loses his balance. I thrust my arms out, catching him before he can fall over. I pull him back to my side, slinging his arm over my shoulder. His head falls to rest on my shoulder, his quiet words in my ears.

"Jimin, Jimin, Jimin."

My cheeks flush, but I keep my cool. I take each step slowly, trying my best not to jostle him much. Yoongi isn't much help either as his "walking as best he can" is basically just dragging his feet across the ground, leaving me to do most of the work. When we get to the stairs, I groan quietly at the idea of having to drag him up each stair. Luckily for me, Yoongi doesn't weigh much. Stepping onto the landing, I thank Jungkook for dragging me to the gym with him all the time. There was no way I would've been able to do this otherwise.

Slowly but surely, we make it to our door. I turn the handle, pushing the wood gently to nudge it open. Unable to fit the both of us through the door, I turn, pulling Yoongi in after me.

"Okay, time to get you to bed," I say, steering him towards the bed. Removing his arm from my shoulder, I try to gently set him down. Of course Yoongi has his own plans.

He flops down onto the bed, his hold on me bringing me toppling down on top of him. I quickly prop myself up on my elbows, trying to keep most of my weight off of him. In this moment, he seems so small. Like I could crush him with just one hand.

I gaze down at him, his cheeks as red as my own, but for a different reason. "Oh, sorry," I apologize, my voice coming out strained. I clear my throat, trying to play it off. "Are you okay?"

"Mhmmm," he hums, a small smile lifting his chubby cheeks. "Jiminieeee," he coos, my cheeks warming at the nickname. "My cute Jiminie." He brings his arms up, wrapping them around my neck, hugging me to him. I'm stunned for a moment, unsure of what to do. I gather my self control and try to pull away from him, but his hold on me makes it difficult. Instead of putting space between us, I end up bringing him with, leaving us in some limbo between sitting up and laying down.

"Yoongi, you have to let go of me," I say, trying once again, unsuccessfully, to pry his arms form around my neck.

A cute pout forms on his lips. "But why? Doesn't Jiminie like me anymore?" His lips tremble, his eyes glossy from unshed tears. I freeze, panic overtaking me. Yoongi was so vulnerable and I have to tread lightly so I don't break him.

"Of course I do. Jiminie likes Yoongi very, very much," I placate. Sober Yoongi would be so pissed at me for talking to him like a child, but apparently Drunk Yoongi didn't care. I manage to unwind his arms from my neck. He whines as I lay him down onto the bed below me. I sit up and he stares up at me with sad eyes, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout that left my heart pounding.

"Really?" he asks, his voice quiet.

"Of course."

"It's not just because we're soulmates?"

The question catches me off guard. In my haste to take care of Yoongi, I had let myself forget all about the bombshell that he and his family dropped on me I been angry about it? Yes. Did it change the way I felt about Yoongi? Absolutely not. If anything, it made me want him even more.

It just hurt me because he knew we were meant to be, yet he still fought me so hard. And now I have to compete with hoseok too? From the moment Hoseok came into the picture, I had been insecure about my relationship with Yoongi. They seemed to get along so well. Yoongi never brushed off Hoseok lie he did me and that filled me with jealousy.

I sigh, a sad smile on my lips. "No, not just because we're soulmates. I'd still want you without it," I admit.

"Then why do you look so sad?"

"Do I look sad?"

"Mhm," he nods, placing his hands on my face, his eyes boring into mine with a surprising intensity. "I want to make it better," he says, softly.

Before I had time to react, Yoongi was invading my space. I wanted to back away, put some space between us, but I never got the chance.

My mind goes blank as Yoongi's lips press against my own, surprisingly soft even with the forcefulness of the kiss. I should push him away, I know I should. It's wrong to take advantage of him while he's drunk, but I can't bring myself to do it.

My mind wars with itself as Yoongi deepens the kiss, his tongue grazing my bottom lip. Half of my brain tells me to stop, the other begs me to just give in, to let myself have just this one moment. Yoongi slides his hands into my hair, his long fingers pulling softly at the orange locks, and I lose all semblance of control.

I lift him, gently settling him on my lap, never once breaking the kiss. Desperate for more, I graze my teeth against his bottom lip, tugging on it slightly. His hands grip my hair tighter and I have to work to keep myself from groaning. My hands travel down to the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath the fabric to touch the flushed skin of his lower back.

"Jimin," Yoongi moans into the kiss.

The smell of alcohol on his breath snaps me out of my lust, my lips freezing in place even as his continue to move against them. I remove my hands, smoothing his shirt back down to its original place. Yoongi cries out from the loss of my touch, the sound almost undoing all my will power. I place my hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him away. He resists at first, desperate to keep the kiss going, but eventually I overpower him. I put some space between us, as much space as possible with his hands still tangled in my hair and him still on my lap.

Yoongi stares down at me, his brown eyes glazed over with lust. His breath comes out in huffs, his lips swollen.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't do this with you. Not like this," I admit.

Hurt and rejection shine from behind his eyes as he pouts at me. He tries to close the distance between us, but my arms hold him back.

"Why? Did I do something wrong?" His voice wavers, his pain clear in his tone. I wish he knew how much it hurt me to do this, how much willpower it took to not pull him back to me and start back where we left off. I couldn't do that though, my conscience wouldn't let me. So instead I lower him to the bed and stand.

"I'm sorry," I say meekly, turning away to avoid the hurt I knew I just cause him.

"Jiminie-"

At the sound of his voice, the plea just in that one word, I nearly crumble. My heart, my soul, everything in me was screaming for me to get back in the bed and give him everything that he wanted. Everything that we both wanted.

Clenching my fists at my sides, I rush to the bathroom, ignoring Yoongi as he calls out to me. Locking the door behind me, I sink down to the floor and pull my knees up to my chest. I stare up at the stained ceiling, my mind filled with images of a mint-haired boy, his eyes filled with lust.

I hear sniffles from outside the bathroom, and my heart sinks even further in my chest. I had wanted to avoid doing anything that could hurt Yoongi, but I failed. My mind reels, unable to fully process the events that just took place.

Yoongi actually kissed me. I can't believe it.

I still felt terrible for hurting him, but I couldn't stop the satisfaction I felt. Yoongi had finally shown me affection, and it brought his mother's words back to me. She had pulled me to the side when we were leaving, hugging me close as she whispered in my ear.

"Just be patient. He'll come around."