The first thing I become conscious of is the pounding in my head, the throbbing pain that surfaces before I even open my eyes. I groan but the sound sends waves of excruciating pain throughout my skull, making me cut it off almost as soon as it had left my lips. I roll onto my back, my stomach rolling at the sudden movement. I open my eyes slowly, letting myself get used to the light before opening them farther and farther. Once finally open, I let them wander around the room as I try to work out where I am.

Ugly ass drywall, paint chips all over. Ahh, that's right we're in a motel. I need to call someone to fix my car.

I sit up slowly, my head spinning. Patting myself down, I find my phone in my pocket and pull it out. I open the screen and immediately turn down the brightness. Luckily there seemed to be service here. Bringing up Naver, I search for car repair places. Clicking on the first option, I hold the phone to my ear, flinching at the pain that the ringing caused.

Suddenly the ringing stops and a man greets me, "Hello."

"Ah, hello," I greet, gritting my teeth against the pain in my head.

"How can I help you?"

"I got a flat tire last night and need to have it replaced, please."

"Oh, no problem. That's pretty common around here," he says, chuckling. "I just need the location of the car and where I should drop it off after."

I quickly give him everything he needs, bidding him goodbye before hanging up.

"Now that that's done," I mumble to myself, standing, "I really need to wash out my mouth."

I make my way across the room, slowly since I had to hold onto the wall for balance sometimes, and approach the door to the bathroom. I try the handle, but it's locked.

"What the hell," I say quietly. I smack my hand against the door, "Jimin! Jimin! Are you in there?"

A quiet groan sounds from the other side of the door. I bring my hand back up, smacking against the wood yet again. "Come on, Jimin! Let me in!"

I hear shuffling and I step as the lock clicks out of place. The door swings open, revealing a disheveled Jimin. His cheeks darken when we make eye contact. I sigh at his messy appearance, "Did you sleep in the bathroom?"

He glances away from me, his blush only deepening. "May-Maybe I did."

"Why would you do that?" I ask, before pushing passed him. "You know what, it doesn't matter. I need the bathroom." I push him out the door, shutting it in his face. Turning around, I gaze at my reflection, groaning at the mess looking back at me. My hair was a mess, sticking up in a million different directions. I looked like I just stepped out of an anime.

I turn on the faucet, cupping my hands to use as a makeshift cup. I drink the water, sighing at the coolness of it. Once again getting my hands wet, I try to flatten my hair. It takes quite a while, but eventually I manage to wrangle the strands back into their assigned places. Turning the water off, I leave the bathroom. I nearly smack into Jimin, who hasn't moved from his spot out side the door.

"Jesus, Jimin!" I yell, bringing my hand to rest over my racing heart. "What are you doing?"

He looks at me, his expression puzzled. I roll my eyes at him and step around him, moving about the room. "You might want to make sure you have everything," I say, picking his jacket up of the floor. "I called someone to fix the car. It should be done soon." I toss him the jacket, but he doesn't catch it. It bounces off his chest before falling to the floor. His eyes follow it, but he makes no move to pick it up.

"What's your problem, Jimin?" I ask, fed up with his spaced-out behavior. "If this is about the fight last night, we can talk about it, okay? I shouldn't have ran to the bar, I know that. It was stupid." His eyes shoot up, locking onto my own. "We can talk about it now if you-"

My phone blares from inside my pocket, startling me. I pull it out of my pocket, looking at the caller ID. "Ah, it's my mom," I say to Jimin, who nods. I accept the call, placing it to my ear. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey," she greets me, "You didn't call me last night to tell me you got home. I just wanted to check on you."

I sit on the bed, the springs groaning under my weight. "Yeah, we haven't gotten home yet. We got a flat tire and had to stay at a motel."

"What? Are you okay? What about Jimin? Should we-"

"Relax, Mom," I say, interrupting her mini freak out. "I'm fine. Jimin's fine. And they're fixing our car as we speak."

I hear her exhale, her relief evident in her next words. "That's great, honey. Did you and Jimin have a chance to talk about yesterday yet?"

"No," I answer quickly before rewording my answer. "I mean, kind of."

"Kind of?" she asks, perplexed.

"It's more like we fought about it," I say quietly, trying to make sure that Jimin didn't hear me. "It didn't go well."

"Oh, that's too bad. What was the fight about?"

"Well for some reason, he's mad at me!" I hear her laughter trickling through the phone, a pout forming on my lips. "What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing," she says, her laughter growing. "You guys are just too adorable."

"Adorable?" I raise my brows in confusion. "We're talking about the same thing, right? He got mad at me, Mom."

"I know what you said, dear. But have you ever considered that it's because you keep pushing him away? Even though he's your soulmate?"

I scoff, shifting my phone to my other ear. "That's ridiculous. I mean why would he-"

My mind flashes with memories of our fight:

"Then tell me, Yoongi. Tell me why you didn't chase after me that first night."

""Yeah, just run away, Yoongi. That's what you're good at anyway!"

"Oh shit," I say, my mouth dropping.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Maybe," I admit begrudgingly. "But that doesn't really give him a right to be mad. We're soulmates. But that doesn't mean anything."

My mother groans, the sound angry and impatient. "I love you, Yoongi. But you're too much, sometimes. I'm afraid I'm with Jimin on this one. Get home safe, dear," she says quickly before hanging up on me.

"What the hell," I mumble, putting the phone back in my pocket. Shrugging my shoulders, I turn back to Jimin, who still had yet to move from his spot. I met his eyes again, his cheeks reddening. "I'm sorry about that, Jimin," I apologize, running my hands through my still damp hair. "Now what were we-"

A knock sounds at the door, interrupting me once again. I groan, stomping over to it. I pull it open to see a man standing there. He smiles when he sees me, holding a key out to me.

"Min Yoongi, right? Your car is done."

I take the key from him, slipping it into my pocket. "Thanks so much," I flash him a smile. "How much do I owe you?"

"That'll be ₩80,287," he informs me. I reach into my back pocket to retrieve my wallet, handing him a wad of bills. He counts them, then looks back at me. "This is ₩90,000," he says, confused.

"Don't worry about the change. I really appreciate your help," I say, my gaze wandering to my car, sitting pretty and fine again in the parking lot.

"That's so generous," he says, bowing to me. I return it and bid him farewell before softly closing the door again. I turn back around to see that Jimin has finally moved. He now sits on the bed, staring up at me sadly. My heart constricts at the look, fuzzy memories of those eyes filled with lust filling my head.

That was just a dream, stupid. Ignore it.

I clap my hands, gaining his attention, "Well, now that Aro is back in driving shape, what do you say we get home?" Jimin just nods, slipping his jacket over his shoulders as I do the same. I do a last look over to see if we left anything before following Jimin out the door, closing it behind me. "You can go ahead and get in the car, I'll return the key," I say, hoping he would take the hint. I didn't want him going back into that creep's office. Luckily for me, he didn't argue. Instead, he just moved to the car silently, slipping into the passenger seat.

I walk to the office, wondering what he could be pouting about. I open the door, the bell jingling above me. The manager looks up at me, his face falling when he sees that I'm alone.

Serves him right, the creep.

I walk up to the desk, setting the key down. "Thanks for the room, we'll be leaving now." I expected to have to sign some things, but he just nods at me before picking up the key and walking away.

"Guess that's that, then," I mumble, walking back out into the parking lot. I jog over to the car, eager to get on the road. Shutting the door behind me, I smile at Jimin. "Ready to get on the road?" He doesn't answer, just keeps staring straight ahead. I ignore him and start the car, pulling back onto the road, heading home.

We're silent for a while, until Jimin finally speaks to me.

"Yoongi, about last night," he starts, his quiet voice filling the car.

"Mhm," I hum, encouraging him to go on.

"What exactly do you remember about it?" I turn to look at him, but he quickly turns away from me, suddenly interested in the scenery flying by.

I turn my eyes back to the road. "We had a fight and I ran away. Then I went to the bar. After that," I shrug, "nothing. It's all just a fuzzy mess."

"Oh," he says, his voice sad.

"Why? Did something happen?"

He jumps at my question, but doesn't answer right away. I almost ask again, until he speaks.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."