It'd been eight year since I last saw Jimin. The dark locks that once covered his eyes were parted into a perfect quaff of blonde. So much about him was the same, that endearing smile bringing me back to the first time I saw it on our walk to school the day after he moved in across the street. His once boyish face smoothed into sharp jawlines and narrower cheeks that still rounded with his smile to create a curve just below his squinted eyes. It'd been so many years, shock washing through me when it felt like someone set a firework in my body, waiting to go off at any moment.

I dropped Taehyung's hand as Jimin took a step to bridging the small space between us until we met in the middle, his arms slipping around my waist in a tight embrace.

"It's been so long. What are you doing here?" He chimed, the few friends he'd been walking with giving us space as they were taken with a woman who sold handmade bracelets on the sidewalk.

"We came out for fashion week." I turned, glancing at Taehyung over my shoulder. He stood two steps behind me, his expression flat.

Jimin stepped forward, holding out a hand for him to shake. "Sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Jimin." He greeted him politely.

Taehyung grabbed onto his hand firmly, giving it a single shake and remaining silent.

"This is Taehyung." I shot him a look of disapproval, squeezing his hand when I slipped my fingers back between his. There was tension in the air so I turned back to Jimin, unable to leave the situation without checking in on him. "How have things been for you?"

"Good, the autumn dance season is starting. The opening show of La Cenerentola was last week. I wish I knew you were coming. I would have gotten you both tickets." He answered, a passionate sparkle in his eye when he asked about my life in return.

As I told him a little about my job at Vogue and we asked about each other's parents I could feel Taehyung's hand getting tighter around mine. I ignored the dull pain in my fingers from his grip. I'd never seen him respond to anyone without friendliness.

Jimin was being pulled to his friend group, eager to get on with the rest of their night. "I should get back, but it was great running into you." He leaned in for a quick goodbye hug, nodding toward Taehyung before rejoining his friends.

"What was that?" I scolded, snatching my hand from Taehyung's and stretching my fingers.

He didn't say a word, his mouth a harsh line as he looked at me before turning to pick up the walk back to the hotel.

I called after him, increasing my pace to keep up with the long strides he took. "Taehyung, talk to me. What's wrong?" I tried over and over again to get him to say something, pestering all the way back to the hotel and to our room.

I don't know why I expected him to talk once we were in the privacy of our room, thinking that he didn't want to express his agitation in public. He didn't. I stood by the door waiting for something, watching as he grabbed his night clothes, the bathroom door locking behind him as he got ready for bed.

He slept with his back to me, my eyes wide open next to him and without a moment of rest in sight. My mind raced as I listened to his breathing, wondering why he'd gone silent after we ran into Jimin and why he was so impenetrable.

I accepted that maybe he just needed the night to sort through his thoughts and emotions, that we'd talk in the morning. He woke early, his alarm ringing an hour before our set checkout time. I was already dressed for the long train ride back to Milan, my bag waiting by the door.

"Tae," I tried as soon as he sat up. He looked around the room but wouldn't quite meet my eye, closing himself off in the bathroom again to brush his teeth and dress.

He spoke with the front desk clerk during checkout and greeted the cab driver as we slank into the backseat of the car, but refused to say a single word to me. Paris passed us by on the short ride to the train station, the beauty of our week tainted by a moment that drove Taehyung to shut himself off from me. I fought against the tears that pooled in my eyes, using my sleeve to wipe away one that fell down my cheek and keeping my gaze out the window so he wouldn't see.

We rode in silence for the entirety of the fourteen hour train ride home and while I was hurt that he wouldn't speak, it slowly turned into anger. He was being immature, crude toward me, just for speaking to Jimin for a few minutes.

By the time we arrived back to the apartment I was fuming, jerking the bag he still tried to carry from the trunk and racing to the elevator, huffing when he stuck his foot through before the doors closed.

Jungkook was expecting us, having memorized the time our train would arrive back into the city. He sprung up from the couch when I turned at the doorknob and despite being upset, I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of him dashing toward me from the doorway. 

He kissed my mouth first, pulling me up by the waist so that he had no trouble pecking my cheeks and the rest of my face. He pulled away for a moment, a dissatisfied look in his eye as he took in the bag on my shoulder and the way Taehyung breezed past us to the bedroom, slamming the door behind himself.

"He hasn't said a word to me since last night." I explained, Jungkook unsurprised that silence was Taehyung's response to negative emotion. 

"What happened?" He asked, hearing the distraught affect in my tone and pulling me to his chest.

I shrugged. "We ran into someone from my past. I only talked to him for a few minutes but Taehyung turned cold as soon as we ran into him."

"Who–" He amended his question for the time being. "Did Taehyung know him?"

"I don't know. He hasn't said one word to me since we ran into each other." I felt aggravated at the sadness brewing in me again. It was easier to be pissed at him.

Jungkook looked like he had more questions but held off, lifting my bag to carry to my bedroom. "Tell me what you need from me." He sighed when I simply leaned against my closet door. I could tell he was walking the line between inserting himself into our conflict and staying neutral.

"I just want to know why he's acting like this." I sighed in defeat.

"Let me talk to him. He's the worst when he's mad. I'll figure out why he's upset and we'll go from there." He was doing everything right and I felt guilty. I wanted to return to him with excitement and the true ache of missing each other.

Even with the sound of the shower running I could hear Jungkook raise his voice toward Taehyung as he talked to him. I couldn't make out any words, but when I finished and moved on to unpacking my bag I registered him calling Taehyung dumb, sure that if he kept it up he'd be punished with the silent treatment too.

It was getting late, the day gone with traveling. I watched the sun set from our tiny balcony, leaning onto the iron railing to look out at the skyline.

Jungkook released a heavy exhale when he joined me, reaching out so that his thumb rubbed away the tear that dripped down the side of my face. "So who's this Jimin?" He questioned, the same one I suspected was his instinct to ask and that he'd refrained from asking earlier.

"He was my high school boyfriend. I hadn't seen him since we graduated so I was surprised." There was rigidity in his jaw that irked me. "All we did was hug and ask about each other's lives. I don't understand why Taehyung's upset and I shouldn't have to explain that so that you don't get mad too. It's in the past."

He clasped his hands together, extending his stance so that his head fell between his arms before sharing. "Tae said you dropped his hand as soon as you saw him and you didn't introduce him as your boyfriend. He said it felt like there was still something between you."

"I'm plenty occupied with two boyfriends." I rolled my eyes.

"I know. He couldn't explain it clearly. He kept saying 'You could feel the energy between them.'" He replied, imitating Taehyung's intense tone.

If Taehyung could feel the soul connection between Jimin and I, his anger made sense. As I thought through the interaction, through the way it felt when I met Jimin's eye, I understood. Even so he wasn't completely in the right and as I contemplated the draw to Jimin, just as immediate as to either of them, Jungkook grew curious.

He sat on one of the small bistro chairs we kept outside for mornings with coffee. He didn't need to ask his next question. We had so much time before the next soulmate that it didn't feel as important, and honestly, I rarely thought about it. It was the easiest thing to be in the present with them, where the past or the future didn't matter because now was so amazing, but I needed to explain the prophecy to him.