There were a couple of errands to run before heading to Seokjin's treatment session. I stopped into the bookstore for a quick exchange of the one I'd finished reading and picked up refills to my dad's medication. Even the slightest change in weather made a difference, less of a bite in the cold air so that I didn't have to walk through the city as padded as the Michelin mascot.

I grabbed coffee and two blueberry muffins from the cafe next to the clinic. It was convenient but usually had a fifty percent chance of being stale, and I counted myself lucky that I'd come in just as they were putting out fresh goods.

My hands were full as I entered the clinic, balancing bags hanging from the crook of my arm and cups held upright in my palms. I gave short greetings and nods to those I passed on the way, peeking over the edge of the open privacy curtain at the furthest corner of the room to find every recliner empty.

I heard Julia from behind me before I had a chance to question his whereabouts. A small cart of supplies squeaked along at her side for the initial set up of his port. "He's on his way back from a meeting with Dr. Powell." She rolled the small stool she sat on to work from against the wall just as Seokjin rounded the corner.

He carried a folder under his arm, his phone making a quiet whooshing sound as he sent a message. Despite seeming torn between typing and setting down his items to get started with his session, he still took a second to lean down just as I swallowed my first sip of coffee, the plastic top of my cup replaced with his lips in an easy peck.

"Sorry I'm late. Dr. Powell held me up past my start time." He spoke aloud, the apology more for Julia since he'd held her up. He went through the automatic motions of holding out an arm or tugging down the collar of the fuzzy sweater he wore.

"It's fine. I was just about to steal your breakfast from Seline." She replied jokingly, nodding toward the muffin I unwrapped.

He chuckled, his head already shaking. "It's all yours."

"Appetite still low?" She questioned, scooching away from him. She pulled a tablet from her cart, fingers tapping away as she made a note.

"Yes and everything tastes metallic, but I've been eating at least once a day." He glazed over his symptoms.

I resisted the urge to spring forward in my seat, to start a log of his meals and demand answers to the slew of questions that flowed like the introduction of a Star Wars movie in my mind.

I managed to wait until Julia left. Seokjin reached for the unwrapped muffin in my lap, taking one bite, knowing I needed the satisfaction of knowing he ate something. "What were you meeting with Dr. Powell about? Is everything okay?" I could have rambled off three more questions. Dr. Powell's role at the clinic always seemed less clinical with his duties as director of the facility. I imagined he only met with patients on special, dire cases.

Seokjin caught on to my concern, trading me the muffin for a taste of my coffee. "It wasn't about me. He wanted to meet about the money my family's been donating to the clinic." He assured me.

I hesitated to respond, unsure of the way he'd take me asking more about his family. His phone vibrated from his lap but he ignored it, continuing his explanation. "Apparently my parents have their people working to get a new wing built in my name. Dr. Powell wanted to thank me and I needed to let him know I want nothing to do with it."

When I didn't reply he leaned across the small gap between our chairs, so close that it was impossible not to glance at or be tempted by his lips.

"You can ask me anything." He was the one unable to withstand the proximity, closing the space for a kiss that brought pause to our conversation. He tasted like morning, minty toothpaste barely touched by food.

"Do I taste metallic?" I questioned.

His lips spread against mine, a soft laugh shared with his answer. "Yes."

"Can I ask about your family?" I wondered, lifting my eyes to gauge the expression in his.

On cue his phone vibrated against his jeans again. He already knew who it was and I found out when I caught a glimpse of the screen as he turned it face down, an affectionate name for mother stretched across glass.

"She's calling because they're mad I'm not attaching my name to their plans for the clinic." He explained.

"What are their plans for the clinic?" I went with the question that felt easiest.

He passed me the folder that was now nestled between his hip and the arm of the chair. Inside a couple of brochures related to programs within the clinic were tucked behind a flap, a few loose papers with detailed outlines in the other.

"They want to fund a unit dedicated to pancreatic cancer research and treatment. My mother's also considering some additions to incorpirate more holistic care into the clinic." He responded while I scanned outlines, skimming dollar amounts that left my jaw slack and a proposal that I couldn't understand Seokjin's opposition to.

"This is kind of amazing." I was in awe, especially over the ideas that would create more integrated care for patients and support for employees. My admiration of the idea was obvious and it took me off guard when the folder disappeared from my hands, Seokjin's lips pressed into a frown as he closed it. "You don't think so?"

He sighed. "The ideas are amazing. I just don't want to be involved. My parents don't do anything without false intentions or ulterior motives. Yes, those things will help people but believe me, my parents are thinking about their reputation and financial benefit first. They'll have me doing ribbon cuttings and interviews and business meetings. I'll be right back to working for them." He became increasingly elevated as he talked, his hands waving animatedly and voice raising with frustration.

"Seokjin." I glanced over my shoulder, the curtain still closed but sound of his voice pushing beyond the plastic barrier.

"Sorry," he muttered, "this morning brought up all of my feelings about them."

His already boxy shoulders were tense and I was sure that a deeper, more personal hurt existed beneath the flash of anger I'd seen.

"It's fine, I want to hear about them but I wasn't sure if you wanted everyone to." He relaxed into his seat.

The bounce in his knee started to settle. "You're right, I should wait to talk about them when we're alone and I'm calm." He breathed as if he were working hard to release the tension. "Give me something good to talk about."

I pondered where to take the conversation so that it wouldn't yet tie back to his family or my soulmates. "Tell me about the person you care about most." I requested.

"That'd be you." He fired back automatically.

I giggled, temped to let him tell me about the ways he sees me that would likely leave me a blushing mess. "About someone other than me."

He was flirty and smiling, enough to tell me he was letting the intensity he felt go for the time being. "My grandfather and I were very close." There was a forelorn look in his eye as he remembered.

We exchanged stories about his grandfather and Faye, one of the people I cared about most, for the rest of the afternoon. He told me about their connection through fishing and puzzles of every kind, and I recalled the shared love of binging nostalgic TV shows and all things girly I had with Faye. His grandfather left him with his passion for cooking and Faye made me feel alive.

Rob was unsurprised by my hand wrapped around Seokjin's arm as we exited the clinic. He waited for us by the sidewalk, opening the back door and sneaking me a small smile of approval before I climbed in after Seokjin.

One of Seokjin's arms stretched across the seat to rest on my lap. My tote bag folded over right next to his hand, his fingers dancing between staying entwined with mine and rubbing his fingertips across the cotton strap.

"We don't have treatment next week." He stated despite knowing I was aware of the schedule.

Our heads turned at the same time, a look of curiosity exchanged, wondering when we should see each other again.

When the car pulled to a stop in front of my apartment building I realized that I felt just as clueless as the day prior. Right now it felt like we were destined to spend our days next to each other in recliners, me worried every time he met with a doctor and everything in his world tasting of metal, including me.

"I'll get it Rob." Seokjin tapped the edge of the driver's seat, his door clicking open and shut to see me off. I said a quick goodbye to Rob in the time it took for him to tug at my door handle, holding out a hand so that it took as little effort as possible for me to get out.

Mrs. Davis from upstairs passed us on the sidewalk where we stood across from each other. She'd often give me a little money to run small errands for her or help with her two, always feisty chihuahuas. She wasn't shy about eyeing Seokjin as she passed and I was sure she'd ask about him the next time we saw one another. Seokjin was oblivious to her and when he spoke again I wondered if this sidewalk would become a place where he often confessed, to leave me with something to think about or a breathtaking kiss.

"I want this to be different. Today wasn't enough. It's not just this." He shared half-formed thoughts, as if it were too difficult to speak the rest. It was easy for me to fill in the blanks, sure I felt the same thing.

There was so much of our time that would revolve around his illness, but we needed our relationship to be more. He stepped forward so that he was was close enough to pull me to him, hugging me until we sank into the hold. "Have dinner with me on Friday evening, my house." His lips brushed against my cheekbone with every word.

We loosened our grip on each other, keeping close with my hands resting on his forearms. "I'll be there."

He pecked the corner of my mouth, sliding further apart in a slow separation, our hands still holding on. "Be ready to talk about your thing."

"My thing?" I retorted.

We continued to linger, Seokjin walking a few steps closer to the door with me. "The thing you've been waiting for the right time or right place to tell me. I'm not sure which."

"Both." I disclosed. Time was the biggest factor, knowing it'd take time to share the history, my personal history, and answer the questions I was sure he would have.

We were by the door and he reached for the handle, giving my hand a squeeze to stop me from going in when he tugged it open. "I should punish you for trying to get away so quick." His teasing words didn't match his expression, cheeks puffed out and lips pouted dramatically, puckered for a kiss.

I obliged him, leaving with a giddy bounce in my step. Around the corner Mrs. Davis stalled by her mailbox across from the elevator. She closed it just as I pressed the call button, standing next to me with a knowing grin covering her perfect dentures and quick to ask me about the handsome stranger I'd stand out in the cold so long for.