The stage is engulfed in darkness, saved for the one column of light shining onto the wooden chair at the center.

The patrons scattered about the bar murur, the sounds lingering and overlapping, as anticipate cumulates, palpable in the stilled air.

Taehyung's long fingers caress the glass tumbler in hand, nails tapping onto the surface impatiently.

Clink. Clink.

The ember liquid within sloshes around, releasing its intoxicating fragrance. The ice cubes hiss and crackle faintly under the heat of his palm.

"Been fifteen minutes already. Seem like quite the build up, just for a new dancer." Taehyung observes, and clicks his tongue in disdain. Beside him, Namjoon hums but stays silent.

Then he sees him.

Black silk blouse loosely draping over his toned torso, with simple black pants to match. Hands flipping through silvery grey hair carelessly, tousling it, dark eyes scanning and surveying the crowd. The whispers in the crowd grow louder, restless.

The figure takes a seat in the chair, and all the lights in the club dim. The music starts, ceasing the incessant murmurs, like waves that recede into the background.

Taehyung finds his eyes trained onto the dancer, taking in his every move.

It's not just his looks. He's beautiful, undeniably so - all doll-like eyes and puckered lips, mixed with sinuous muscles and masculine curves. A dangerously alluring blend. But what enthralls Taehyung, draws him in like all the other patrons who gape with bated breath, is the way he moves.

Head tilted up slightly, chest lifted and back straight, the dancer carries himself with such innate grace, as his body snaps and responds to each beat of the song. And Taehyung can't help but applause the song selection. Club Omelas is a popular place, its stage frequented by boisterous jazz bands on the weekends. But on the quieter weekday nights such as tonight, the bar attempts to draw in the crowd with more risque acts, burlesque dancers in skimpy outfits, flaunting their youth to suggestive tunes.

Not this one though. The song is simple, instrumental with a basic beat and a jazzy flair. The outfit is plain, his collarbones barely peeking through the shirt opening. And the dance moves almost feel classical, each position of his feet and body achieved with perfect control. Slowly, the world around them fizzles away, and Taehyung finds himself suspended in the moment, thoughts ebbing and flowing with each jete and pirouette. He only snaps out of the trance when the music stops, and the momentary silence is punctured by enthusiastic applauses and chatter.

A thought flashes through his mind, loud and definitive - this dancer, this ethereal thing of beauty, will be his and his alone.

Taehyung is no stranger to collecting pretty trophies in life. His heart thrums excitedly at the prospect of a new pursuit. The crowning jewel of his collection, Taehyung drags on his lip between his teeth, and delights in the idea.

I bet he'll look stunning, all wrecked and pleading in bed.

He strikes up a conversation with the waitress.

"Oh, that's Jimin. The new guy. Pretty face, too bad he never talks." she pouts her lips teasingly, as Taehyung throws her a half-hearted wink, "probably thinks he's better than the rest of us. New kids, always the same."

Taehyung chews over the words. A challenge, he finds his interest piquing even more.

Over the next few weeks, Taehyung tries out all the usual tricks. He fills Jimin's dressing room with a profusion of flowers - roses, lilies, orchids, flowers of every type and color, the sacherine fragrance spilling into the hallway behind the stage. The waitresses tell him later, that it all gets tossed out into the garbage bin, right when Jimin gets to the room.

Taehyung's next effort earns him a chance to introduce himself. He books the whole club one night, and buys cases of champagne and sets up a romantic table for two, right beneath the stage, complete with hundreds of flickering candles. Jimin finishes the dance routine, and as the music fades, he strides towards Taehyung, eyes dark and cold.

"What's this all for?" his voice is low and musical to Taehyung's ears, despite the abrasive tone.

"You of course, all for you." Taehyung flashes his most beguiling smile and extends out a hand, "Kim Taehyung, your biggest fan, at your service."

Jimin scoffs and glares at him, "if you just wanted to meet me, you could've just asked for my name. Seems like this whole thing is more about your own inflated ego."

Taehyung gestures around, "champagne, candles, you and I, I see nothing wrong with this. Can't blame a guy for trying." He bats his eyes innocently, and continues, "tell me, Jimin, what do you want? You know I'll figure it out eventually, baby. Anything you desire, just name it and it's yours."

Jimin takes a deep breath and responds, "I want, for you to stop pulling this self-absorbed shit around here. I want you gone, and if I can't have that, then please, keep your self entitlement all to yourself. Can you do that for me, baby?" He drags the last word out, eyes shooting daggers, and strides away without a second glance.

Taehyung's face is stiff, as he watches Jimin storms off. For the next few weeks, he tries to forget about it all - just a dancer, a tiny blip in his life, why bother. But he finds himself going back to the club every week, gazing up the stage from the side, no longer making a scene, just quietly observing him from afar.

And each time Jimin gets close to his side of the stage, his seductive smirk turns cold, eyes glaring with contempt. But the curves of his body remain graceful, and the fingers by his lips make Taehyung absentmindedly hold his breath.

"Fuck, do you guys know each other?" Namjoon exclains, seated next to Taehyung, "Because I've honestly never seen anyone hate you so damn much." Taehyung purses his lips before responding, "Oh I'll wipe that fucking cocky smirk off his face one day, don't you worry." Namjoon glances at him thoughtfully, "Wow, the infallible Kim Taehyung, getting worked up over some random dancer. I'm intrigued!"

It becomes a little obsession of Taehyung's, keeping tab on Jimin, visiting the club every week, no longer making a move but ears perking up every time there's a mention of Jimin. And Jimin is icy as always, but whatever disdain he holds for Taehyung, he never voices it again. They settle into this strange co-existence, never speaking to each other but begrudgingly accepting each other's presence.

And one day Taehyung finally finds his chance.

He overhears other dancers talking about Jimin visiting a close-by high school sometimes. It's hush hush, but Taehyung catches the name of the place and can't curb his curiosity. Jimin who is so righteous and frustratingly unreachable, what secret does he hold.

The school seems unassuming, a little run down but fits with the feel of the working class neighbourhood. Taehyung orders the driver to park in the alley every time, and after a few attempts, he finally catches Jimin, face hidden under a black cap, looking unassuming except carrying himself with that dancer's gracefulness as always.

Taehyung holds his breath and watches as Jimin wait. It's the end of the school day, and kids spill out of the building, laughing amongst friends. Jimin doesn't move. The crowds eventually dissipate, and a young girl appears. Simple black hair, plain uniform, but none can hide her natural beauty. Jimin reaches in to grab her hand, only to be ignored with an icy eye roll. They talk away silently, disappearing down the street.

Taehyung considers following them, but decides otherwise. He leaves the car and makes his way into school, and strikes up a conversation with one of the teachers, pretending to be a friend of Jimin's. "Oh they just left? Crazy, Jimin told me to pick her up..." he smiles beguilingly, charm oozing out of every pore.

The young teacher gulps. "Yeah, too bad. What's your name again?"

Taehyung flips his hair nonchalantly and takes a calculated risk, "I try to help out, such nice people, you know. Too bad about the family."

The teacher pauses but then nods, following his lead, "yeah, I heard the parents are still in Busan right? Fallen on hard times. Yoona mentioned they prolly can't afford the tuition of the journalism degree she wants to apply for. Too bad, such a smart girl."

Taehyung eyes her impassively, voice flat and contemplative, "Is that so."

A week later, Taehyung is back at the club. Nothing has changed, Jimin is on stage in a crimson shirt and matching choker, dancing to a new routine. As the blindfold slides off his pretty face, his dark gaze meets Taehyung's for a split second before moving away. Namjoon sips on scotch, as Taehyung pipes up beside him, torso slouched in the velvet couch, "Hyung, when do you know you're doing something wrong? When do you stop yourself?"

It takes Namjoon a moment to respond, but when he does, Taehyung's eyes stay fixed on the stage, and Namjoon's voice feels like a quiet echo beside him, "Most people stop when they feel like they might hurt someone, someone they care about. As for you..." he pauses, choosing his words carefully, "Well, I think you probably never will."

Taehyung stops by Jimin's dressing room after the show, alone.

There are no flowers in his hand, no champagne or gifts, what he brings this time is far more shrewd. He turns the door knob without knocking, and lets himself in.

Jimin's face is bare, looking a little worn out without makeup. His skin shows through the open gap of a long silk robe, and Taehyung realizes Jimin is much more petite than the larger-than-life persona he's used to seeing on stage. Almost frail. Jimin takes one look at him in the mirror and scoffs, "This is stupid even for you. I'll call security and they will never let you into the club again."

"Yoona looks just like you, down to that arrogant little smirk." Taehyung speaks flatly, stepping slowly towards Jimin. He gets another muted scoff in return, "Whatever, you think you're the first one to stalk me and find out about my sister. You think too highly of yourself, Kim Taehyung."

"Huh, didn't think you'd bother remembering my name." Taehyung clicks his tongue and stands right behind Jimin, who's seated in front of the mirror.

"That's the thing I hate about people like you. The entitlement. Always sounding like everyone's under your control, everything for a price." Jimin comments, glancing at the desk to pack up his things slowly, but Taehyung notices his jawline stiffening.

Taehyung's hand reaches out to gingerly land on the back of the seat, tracing the worn out fabric with his fingers, "So proud. Has anyone ever told you to watch that mouth of yours? Words have weight, you don't want to ruin your sister's future, do you?"

He watches Jimin's hands slow down at the words, and a smug satisfaction surges in his heart, curling his lips into a content little grin.

❄

Jimin calls home that night, alone in his tiny worn out bedroom. The conversation is stiff, as always, with frequent moments of tense silence.

They all judge him, he knows it. Ever since Yoona moved to Seoul and lived with him, it's only gotten worse. His parents have no doubt confirmed the rumors about his job through Yoona.

Jimin's fine with Yoona's open mockery and cold shoulder - at least she's upfront about it, calling his job a disgrace to the family. But with his parents in Busan, the silence cuts deeper. It fills Jimin with exasperation - he use to dream of doing something artistic and free with his life, but with the weight of the family finances on his shoulders, there's no other option, this job pays ten folds better than any other pathetic thing he could find.

At least he gets to dance. He thought dancing would feel degrading, with all these men and hunger dripping from their eyes, but to his surprised, the second he steps on stage and the music starts, it all goes away. He forgets, and all that's left is him and the music. It becomes his favorite place to escape, only place really.

No, Jimin no longer dwells in dreams. He lives day by day. It's easier this way, just focusing on pulling through the day. But Yoona deserves better, she still believes in changing her fate, making something amazing out of the weariness that is life. And wasn't that the whole point of moving her from Busan to Seoul, so she could be exposed to a bigger world, to have a better life than her brother?

Jimin sucks in a deep breath to silence the scattered noises on his mind, and tells his parents he's found a way to pay for Yoona's college tuition. The whole thing. And there's a long silence at the end of the line, as expected. Jimin feels the heaviness in his heart - shame, it's hard to swallow, especially coming from your own family, even though he should be used to it by now. They eventually do pipe up, telling Jimin it's a good thing. Yoona is a smart girl, she deserves it. Jimin nods. They hang up after a few more exchanges of small talk, never asking about the details of the money.

❄

Taehyung's proposal is deceptively simple, "You can do your own thing, keep this job, whatever you want. As long as you come to me when I need you. And no drama please. Half a year, let's say, and you will have more than earned the money."

Jimin retorts, "Interesting way to put it. You make it sound like it's hard to stick around you."

Taehyung shrugs, "You'll see, people always leave in the end. Something about me being a heartless bastard. I hope you don't turn out to be so dramatic."

"Hard to be dramatic when I don't give a shit about you. I wouldn't worry."

Taehyung laughs, "Man, that mouth of yours. We should really put it to some other use."

Jimin is true to his words. He sits in Taehyung's booth at the club with a bored face, and they meet up sometimes at Taehyung's place, whenever he texts. Jimin is determined to not feel a thing. But it turns out to be harder than he expects. Taehyung is surprisingly thoughtful, never asking for much. Most nights, they don't even do much, just watch tv while eating snacks, and fall asleep with Taehyung clinging onto him instead of the dozen of pillows on his massive bed.

And it becomes quickly apparent that Taehyung's life is nowhere as privileged and perfect as Jimin imagined it to be. Taehyung's siblings all work for their family assets, and since he has no aspiration for business, and zero interest in expanding the family wealth, his parents neglect him, treat him like this useless runt that's only good for squandering the money away. People that seek favours from his family treats him the same way, with a thinly concealed air of judgement. The pretty youngest son of the Kim family, they whisper, sometimes right in front of him, best to just skip him and go straight to sucking up to Seokjin, the oldest brother.

Taehyung doesn't seem to care, but at the same time, Jimin can tell something is missing within him. How to love when you've never been shown the way, to have never experienced a heartfelt hug, some genuine words of encouragement. Jimin almost pities him, his own family might be messed up, but at least he still exists, still matters. As much as Yoona yells or rolls her eyes, he would still find a plate of food left for him once in a while. They still have each other, in a way. Taehyung, on the other hand, has nobody, not even himself. It's all hollow.

Jimin doesn't know know to stay stone cold to someone that curls into him in the still of the night, someone that's vain and greedy on the surface but is just a lonely little kid on the inside, nobody ever cared enough to guide and correct him.

Taehyung starts sending him gifts backstage at the club again. Thankfully, they are much simpler now - a small bouquet of wildflowers, a tray of macaroons to be shared with all the other dancers... But now, the gifts always come with a little card. A few scribbles, sometimes a happy face, sometimes a signature, but Jimin starts to recognize the handwriting by heart.

❄

Soon, it's Christmas season.

Jimin is not big on holidays, but even he's surprised that Taehyung's sparsely furnished high-rise penthouse has no trace of decoration. "Lemme guess, going for the grinch theme here."

Taehyung doesn't seem to care, "Whatever, everyone's always with their family around the holidays, who am I decorating for, myself?"

Jimin frowns and thinks of all the boisterous family meals he used to have in Busan, before moving to Seoul. Suddenly, he's not sure if the sympathy in his heart is for Taehyung or both of them.

So Jimin buys a Christmas tree one day after work, a small little thing that catches his attention on the side of the street, lush and defiantly alive in the cold and dark night. He drags it to Taehyung's place, along with string lights, ornaments and some last-minute impulse purchase. When it's all done, Jimin texts Taehyung, asking if he wants to meet up at his place. No response. He sweeps up the scattered pine needles all over the floor, and falls asleep on the couch waiting.

In the darkest hour of the night, Jimin is woken up by a shake on the shoulder, and looks up to find Taehyung looking quizzically at him, reeking of alcohol, "What you doing here, I never asked you to come today."

Jimin ignores the bitterness in his mouth and responds, "It's nothing, I'll be out of your way." He staggers up. Taehyung spots the tree, and points at it incredulously, "What the fuck is this? Did you do that?"

Jimin grimaces, "If you don't like it, you can just toss it." He turns for the door when he feels a tug on his arm, and Taehyung's voice is beside him, surprised but tinged with something resembling genuine joy, "Stay, please. I love it."

Taehyung brings out wine and turns on some music. They spend the rest of the night in the dark, drinking and talking here and there, but mostly just staring at the hundreds of colorful lights on the tree, and all the glistening sappy ornaments. Taehyung holds Jimin by the waist, slurring and marvelling at the tree, as if it's the most wondrous thing in the world.

When Taehyung leans in for the kiss, it feels different this time, something in his eyes, a little more reverent, some kind of fondness. The melodic songs drift in and out in the background, and Jimin breathes in all of Taehyung's moans and whimpers, drinks them all up, feeling his heart yielding as he pours himself into him.

Jimin blames what transpires that night on the alcohol, but the truth is hard to ignore.

And afterwards, lying in bed together, just when he thinks Taehyung has fallen asleep, Jimin hears his voice, breath hitting his chest faintly, "The present, is it for me too?" Jimin thinks of the small wrapped up thing alone under the tree. It was an impulse move, something he regretted immediately the second Taehyung saw it. He hums and turns away, hoping Taehyung would drop it. He feels Taehyung's torso leaning against his back, and words breathing into his skin, so quiet that he thinks he might be dreaming it up, "Thank you."

Jimin doesn't get to see Taehyung on Christmas Day, or hear about the gift. Instead, their six month is over.

He meets Taehyung over coffee. It's a sunny lazy afternoon, and everything feels a little off - the people too languid, the sunshine a little too bright. Taehyung's expression is different, the tenderness of the night is gone, replaces by the usual nonchalant air. He hands over a cheque and sips on the iced Americano like it's just another unassuming day, "The other half, as promised. I gotta say, you surprised me."

Jimin bites his lips before speaking, voice tense, "how so?"

"Well, it was...nice, better than I thought it would be, you know?"

His tone grates on Jimin's ears, who feels anger starting to simmer, "Yeah? That's all you got to say? So it's over?"

Taehyung pauses, eyes glazed over, before responding, "Yep, you're free. What you always wanted, no?"

Jimin grows exasperated, he stammers, head swimming with all the clamouring thoughts. He wants to yell at him for being the coward that he is, wants to kiss that empty look off his face, wants to punch him out and get some genuine feelings out of him. But instead, he swallows it all, and takes one last look at Taehyung before walking away, fists clenching.

Taehyung sits there, alone, and finishes his coffee. He texts Namjoon:

- I did it

The phone buzzes and he sees the response:

-Tae, what did you do

Slowly, he types back, fingers trembling and eyes prickling, but he forces himself to finish the response:

- I stopped, hyung. Stopped before he would get hurt.

❄

Life goes back to normal, except Taehyung is gone. No longer visits the club, no matter how hard Jimin looks for him in the crowd, no longer able to escape even when he dances. The disappointment hurts, but Jimin handles it on his own. It was a deal, all business, his fault for giving his heart so willingly. Stupid, really. Yoona is off to college now, he's by himself on most days, not saying a word to the clients that crowd him with their lust filled glances at the club. Sometimes Jimin feels dazed, hating the way he looks in the mirror as the makeup comes off slowly, the heartache apparent and no longer hidden.

One day, in the dressing room, worn out from dancing and with a throbbing pain in his ankle, Jimin hears a knock on the door. His heartbeat quickens, and he's suddenly afraid to look. Hope is cruel when you know you will be disappointed.

The person that comes in is not Taehyung. Tall, well dressed, with that similar upper class air of Taehyung's that Jimin can sense from a mile away. But the stranger's eyes gleam with kindness. "Hi, I'm Namjoon, but feel free to call me Joon. Taehyung always does."

Namjoon proceeds to tell Jimin about Taehyung - the dysfunctional relationship between him and his parents, how as a kid Taehyung tried to appease them, to earn their attention, but was viewed to be never as smart as Jin. How he eventually gave up, heart closed off, playing the role of the rich spoiled chaebol, never seeking for more. And namjoon tells Jimin that Taehyung has been even more reckless since the day they broke things off, bitter and angry, hostile to everyone and hurting himself no less.

When Namjoon finishes, Jimin responds, "Anything else?" Namjoon arches his brow. Jimin comments slowly, "I know. Not the details, but I know what he's been through. Half a year together, it wouldn't hurt so much if I didn't get to know him." He averts his gaze, "But it's over, he chose to break it off. Not like I had a say in it."

Namjoon sighs and agrees, "True. I know he's messed up, afraid the moment he gets close to someone. To be honest, I get it, even if he dies in a drunken car accident, or some drug overdose, there's not much I can do, his life is his to ruin. But you..." he inches closer, voice taking on a different tone, more stern, more definitive, the seriousness in it making Jimin flinch, "...would you be able to live with that? Knowing that you might've been able to prevent it, to help him out even just a little bit?"

Jimin stays stubbornly silent. But Namjoon continues, each word echoing on his mind, impossible to shake off, "you know, Taehyung didn't just cut you a cheque. The college Yoona liked is notorious for being tough to get into. Did you ever wonder how she got in? He talked to Jin, swallowed his pride and asked a favour from the last person he wanted to show weakness to. You act like you know everything about him. Well, I bet he never bothered sharing that bit." Jimin's shoulders slouch, as Namjoon adds, "And that thing you gave him for Christmas, man if I catch him staring at it one more time..." His voice trails off, silence fills the room.

When Jimin finally speaks, his voice is low and uncertain, "How could you ask this of me? You don't know-you don't know what it felt like last time..." he trails off, head lowered, retracting into himself.

Jimin feels a hand on his shoulder. The touch is featherlight, but the warmth radiates through, making his lips quiver. Namjoon's voice is next to him, "You can handle it. I'm here because I know you can be strong for both of you. Please, you're the only person that ever got close to his heart, show him a glimpse of what he deserves in life - just a tiny bit of hope and love. Talk to him once, that's all I'm asking for."

❄

Jimin paces in front of Taehyung's apartment building, palms sweating and hands wringing nervously. It took him a week to build up the courage to come back, and he regrets it the instance he rings the door. There's noise over at the other end of the speaker, clamours and laughters, sounds like a party. He's let in.

As he steps out of the elevator, he hears the muffled music and laughters from across the hallway. A young dude opens the door, and eyes him curiously. "Where's Taehyung?" Jimin's voice is firm. The guy shrugs, doesn't seem to know or care. Jimin makes his way inside. It's a mess, there are drinks everywhere, drugs, people dancing and lounging around, nobody he recognizes. He asks for Taehyung a few more times, and grows infuriated at all the confused and dazed responses. Jimin's pace speeds up as he goes through all the rooms, searching.

Finally, in the master bedroom, away from all the noise, he finds him, curled up in bed under a thin sheet, clutching onto the pillow like a lifeline. Taehyung looks thinner, frail and like a little kid in the dark. The sight makes all of Jimin's trepidation and fear fade away. He finds himself kneeling on bed, hands reaching out for Taehyung gently.

Taehyung's eyes open, and they are glassy and dazed. It takes a minute for his mind to come down from whatever he's drowning himself in, but when the recognition sets in, Jimin hears a gasp that sounds almost like a sob. And he sees the mist in Taehyung's eyes rising, and a defiant pout teases on his quivering lips. And just like that, all of Jimin's defence collapses, and he reaches in and holds onto Taehyung wordlessly.

Jimin wipes Taehyung's tear streaks off his cheeks, and hears his voice, a faint whisper that dissipates into the air, "Make it stop, please."

"What is it? Are you ok?" He holds onto him a little tighter, and feels the heat of Taehyung's skin.

"Make the noise stop." Taehyung pleads and curls into Jimin. His body shivers, words slurred and barely audible, "'m sorry. Always mess everything up..."

Jimin sighs and feels the familiar heartache. By the time he kicks everyone out of the apartment and returns to bed, Taehyung's eyes are closed, face scrunched and brows furrowed. Jimin covers him in a blanket and settles in next to him, wrapping his arms around from the back. He feels Taehyung's fingers lacing with his silently. They sleep, Jimin occasionally waking up by Taehyung mumbling in his dreams, but he would kiss the crown of his head and caress his back in slow strokes until Taehyung falls asleep again.

Jimin watches as Taehyung finally wakes up late the next morning, as faint sunlight filters through the curtains. His eyes fall onto Jimin, and the gaze lingers impassively. Taehyung's hair is disheveled and soaked with sweat, and before his gaze turns cold and defensive, Jimin reaches in for a kiss.

He pours all his concern and fear into the kiss, hands cupping Taehyung's cheeks and pulling him in closer. Taehyung responds slowly, torso plaint and leaning into him. Jimin feels a small flame growing within him, spreading and warming up every fiber of his being. When they finally part, he takes a deep breath and builds up the courage to face Taehyung, "Don't. I talked to namjoon and have been thinking. Just hear me out."

He scans the room and finds what he's been looking for, a glistening thing by the window sill. Jimin gets up and brings it back to bed, placing it in front of them. It's a snow globe, a dollar store find, with hastily painted winter landscape on the inside. Yet when Jimin gives it a little shake, and watches as the dusting of white falls slowly, there's something achingly beautiful in the simple object, a serenity that makes time stand still.

"In Busan, we never got much snow. So as a kid, I was always fascinated by it, waiting for it every winter, hoping." Jimin's voice is contemplative, his hand holding onto Taehyung, who's eyes stay fixed on the globe. "So when I came to Seoul, it felt like such a treat, you know, to get snow every year, and watch the first snowfall at home, even if I didn't have much of anything else. I loved sharing it with Yoona, and - " he dips down, lips grazing by Taehyung's hair, "- I wanted to share it with you. You seem to have so much, Taehyung, but why does it feel like, that you have nothing sometimes. I hoped - " he laughs, a self deprecating sound from the back of his throat, "- I hoped we could watch the first snow together one day. Stupid, I know, didn't even have the guts to tell you what the gift meant."

Jimin's throat dries, heart paralyzed with fear. He feels exposed, finally letting his thoughts heard, to the person that rejected him without a second glance. It's scary, to realize that the person next to you holds so much power over your heart, every word of theirs capable of crushing you, ruining you to the core. But Jimin takes it all in, bites his lips and waits for Taehyung to speak up.

When Taehyung finally responds, it sends shivers down Jimin's spine, despite his best effort to rein in his scattered thoughts, "why did you come back? It would've been better if you didn't." Jimin's breath hitches, and there's a lump in his throat. Taehyung continues, voice flat, eyes not leaving the globe, "I make a mess of everything. I'll just hurt you sooner or later. It's not Namjoon's place to meddle. You should've stayed away."

Taehyung's fingers trace the outline of the globe, drawing small circles over and over, eyes hollow. Jimin feels all his thoughts overwhelming him, of how pathetic his own life is, how he has nothing to offer, and Taehyung has every reason to turn him down. But he pushes it to the side, draws another sharp inhale and pulls Taehyung by the shoulder, turning him so their eyes meet.

"Don't do this. Taehyung, please, no more. I want to make you an offer, if you say no, then I'll leave and you'll never see me again." His voice is shaky, but he sees the glimmer in Taehyung's eyes, lips worrying between his teeth. The usual collected and nonchalant exterior Taehyung puts up is cracked, replaced by vulnerability that's suddenly becoming so apparent in the soft sunlight.

Jimin continues, "Another six months. I want another six months. If you don't like it, then we call it off, any time you want. You owe me this much, damn it, stop being so afraid. I make mistakes too, we all do. But you don't have to make mistakes alone, I can handle it, the pain, the messiness, I'll be fine. Trust me and say yes, six more months."

Silence. Taehyung stares at him impassively, and Jimin feels his heart slowly shattering. Then Taehyung inches towards him wordlessly, into his embrace. He buries his face in Jimin's chest, and Jimin feels his torso shiver. When Taehyung finally speaks, his words are breathed into him, and tears run warm against his shirt, making him feel irritatingly weak. "Why did you come back? Nobody ever bothers. And what do you get out of all this? You're such an idiot, keeping hurting yourself over and over. Such a ..." his words trail off, into a stuttering sob. Jimin holds onto him, and they stay in the moment for what feels like forever.

Finally Taehyung lifts his head and speaks between sniffles, "I want to pay you this time too."

Jimin glares at him, "You do?"

Taehyung wipes away the tears hastily, and grabs the snow globe and clutches it to his heart before leaning back into Jimin, "Yes. If you make it for another six months, I want to pay for a trip, and you must come."

Jimin's body stiffens, "Sounds like I don't have a say in this."

Taehyung shakes his head, "Nope, not an option, mandatory. I want to go to busan, and see where you grew up - your house, school, friends, playgrounds, everything. You must show me, IF you make it for another six months."

Jimin sighs, feeling his shoulders relax. He shoots Taehyung a glance, "So bossy."

"Damn right." Taehyung nods, and adds, "And I'll time it and make sure it snows. It better. I want the most beautiful snowfall, only the best of everything." His fingers linger on the snow globe, head nudging into Jimin's chest.

The sun is up higher now, casting both of them in a warm glow, but on Jimin's mind, there's the sound of snow falling, soft feathery flakes that puts the whole world in a weightless trance. And Taehyung is right, it is indeed, the most beautiful and serene snowfall he's ever seen.