Yoongi collapsed back next to Jimin on the bed after releasing into the condom, breathing heavily as the pair came down from their post-sex high. Jimin had noticed that Yoongi was visiting him a lot more than usual, not just for sex but just to...talk. Jimin had been prepared all his life for various situations with masters - being kicked out, being hurt, being scolded - but talking with them was never something he had learnt how to do. He liked Yoongi's company, and he was beginning to think that maybe he could be friends with him.

There's more chance of pigs flying, Jimin thought to himself when he looked over at Yoongi's face which was flushed pink from the intense sex they had just had. He noticed that Yoongi was always so gentle with him, always whispering sweet-nothings into his ear, always kissing his body. No, Yoongi was definitely not your average master.

What Jimin didn't quite manage to put together was that Yoongi wasn't just gentle for the sake of being gentle. He was gentle because he was afraid of breaking the most precious thing he had ever seen. As Yoongi made eye contact with Jimin, both of them sweaty messes, he couldn't help his heart skipping a beat. The past few visits Yoongi had made to Jimin had cemented the realisation in him - he was bound to Jimin. Jimin was his soulmate.

He had never met anyone in his life that had prompted such a reaction in him. He wanted to be with Jimin every second of the day. Propping himself up on his elbow, Yoongi contemplated how to even start the conversation about this. Masters didn't just announce their undying love to their slaves.

"Jiminie?" Yoongi mumbled and the younger looked up at him with his big eyes that made Yoongi's heart melt a little, "Do slaves ever have soulmates?"

"No master," Jimin replied, remembering the automatic speech they had all learned as children, "We are bound to no one but our master. We are incapable of feeling love."

"Doesn't that make you sad Jiminie?"

"No master, it means my job is a lot easier. I can feel other emotions - sadness, happiness, loneliness - but love is not one of them which means that I am better at being a slave. Feelings don't get in the way. If you can't feel love in your heart, you also can't feel heartbreak."

"You can never feel love? Never ever?"

"No slave ever has, the government is very proud of that. We are emotionless toys," Jimin said, and Yoongi noticed that the younger's voice sounded more despondent.

"Do you wish you feel love, Jimin?"

"Yes...Maybe just once."

"Do you think you could ever love me?" Yoongi asked with hopeful eyes, but to his dismay the younger started laughing.

"Nice joke Yoongi. I mean a slave falling in love with anyone is unheard of, but a slave and master falling in love is just plain silly. In what alternate universe would that happen?"

A heavy silence fell over them and Yoongi closed his eyes to avoid Jimin seeing the pain in them. Yoongi felt like a bullet to the chest would hurt less than this. Listening to Jimin talk so casually about being unable to feel the same way as him was like someone slowly burning all his dreams in front of him while he was chained down, unable to stop anything.

And Yoongi couldn't deny it any longer. He was completely and utterly in love with Jimin. He was bound to someone who was incapable of feeling love. Can this even be possible? Yoongi thought to himself as he tried to stop the tears falling from his eyes. Never in his life had he ever heard of anyone whose soulmate was a slave, it just didn't happen.

And yet there he was, his heartbeat already attuned to the younger's.

Jimin noticed the stiffness in Yoongi as his master stood up, almost like he was unable to look at him. Yoongi walked out, his head hanging down and Jimin pulled the blanket around him.

"Did I say something wrong?" Jimin whispered to himself, a cold fear going through him that he had made a grave mistake that would cost him his comfort.

Yoongi rested his head on the door of his room when he entered, his eyes being drawn immediately to the half empty bottle of whiskey on his desk. He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't stop his hands from grasping the cold neck of the bottle and bringing it to his lips. He could already smell the strong alcohol, and his lips dried at the thought of drinking it. He didn't particularly want to drink it.

But he needed something to numb the pain.

-

Sorry for short and late chapter, some drama is coming soon my kids ;)