Jungkook comes home hours later when we've finished watching D.Gray Man and we're half-asleep, my head on his lap while he leaned on the wall, telling each other lame stories from childhood. He told me about how he covered his eyes and threw paper airplanes at random places and draw that place later on. He said it wasn't good for his hands. I said I never knew he could draw.

"What are you two doing?" Jungkook asks from outside the fort and I immediately hush him.

"What's the password?"

"You two are older than me," Jungkook says in disbelief, closing the door to crash in the living room. He doesn't think we know what happened with him and Jimin. I'll interrogate him tomorrow, but for now, I just want to sleep with Seokjin. Both ways.

"I have a grim reaper costume in my closet," I whisper, and that seemed to wake Seokjin up. Whatever wakes him up wakes me up too, and soon we're just staring at each other with wide eyes.

"I have an idea," he says, and I sit up. "Do you have a flying helicopter toy?"

"Nope," I shake my head.

"We're going to the nearest convenience store."
 

And so we set foot outside, cold Daegu weather and all, and we begin walking—trudging—to our destination. "So, how do you like it so far here?" I ask, to fill up the silence. Anything works with Seokjin.

"I haven't done much exploring yet, but it was definitely different since the last time I saw it," he says, his face mask obscuring his smile, but it shows in his eyes anyway. "I would like to explore this city again."

"Me too," I nod. "It gets boring when you're holed up alone in your apartment. Say, let's save a date, just for the two of us. Walk around the city and whatnot."

"Sure," he nods, and his smile (take off the mask, damn) grows even wider.

"Don't your cheeks hurt from smiling like that?"

"No. I'm just happy you asked first."

From here, I can see his cheeks tinged with pink, a slight stagger in his steps as we walked. There's something in my heart that flutters at the sight—a simple sentence I said made him look instantly brighter than the sun. He's so cute. Cute. I want to throw up. He's the cutest. Oh, how I wish this is how he thinks whenever I blush at something he says. It's highly unrealistic, however, considering I'm not pink when I blush, I'm red—and if I tried smiling the way he does, I'm sure I'd look horrifying.

Does Seokjin like me?

I reach out to hold his hand. He doesn't need to look to take it in his, swiftly intertwining our fingers together. I look down at our hands clasped together.

Three years ago, I was wishing every night on 11:11 that maybe I'd be given a chance to attend a fanmeet and maybe shake Seokjin's hand. I was stuck reading blurbs and reblogging his photos while knowing to myself that I would never have a chance to meet Seokjin. Three years ago, I was a desperate fan. Maybe I still am, except right now, I'm holding Kim Seokjin's hand while walking in the middle of the road, uncaring of the cars that might pass or the jaywalking we'll get accused of. No one drives at 2 AM and they'll just think we're two addict teenagers, and they won't be able to put a name on our faces anyway.

It's not very romantic, I know. But maybe if you'd take the rate at which my heart is beating, the butterflies soaring in my stomach, and the goosebumps scattering all over, you'd know how big of a deal this is to me.

I point to a trolley cart I see in the distance. "Hyung!"

He stops, staring at me for a while. "You just called me hyung."

"Yeah, I noticed. I don't really know what to call you directly, because if I call you by name, isn't that kind of disrespectful, but if I call you hyung, it's... eh... that's why I randomly say things which aren't actually that random. They just sound random because I don't address you directly, so it sounds like I'm talking to myself. Did you notice?"

"I did. But hyung sounds weird."

"What should I call you, then?"

"Call me yours."

I stop dead in my tracks, and then I'm pink and red and maroon all at once. "Nice one," I mumble, tucking my chin inside my scarf to try and keep it down. This is not good for my health.

"I know, it was smooth," he shrugs, and we continue walking. "But, you know... I don't have any qualms about that."

"Calling you mine?"

"Yeah."

It thunders inside my chest, heartbeat steadily pounding, and if Seokjin stopped to listen, he would hear it cutting through the thin air. Yoongi can probably make a beat out of my heart rate. It's gonna produce his best mixtape yet.

Somehow, the thought of Suga dropping a mixtape made out of my heartbeat seemed to calm it down. We finally meet the trolley cart and I look at Seokjin with the best puppy eyes I could manage, but I didn't need his permission to get in the cart in the first place. Riding a trolley cart at 2 AM on the way to a 24-hour convenience store isn't exactly second date material, but hey—anything works with Seokjin.

there's another update later i'll post it tonight!!! thank you for reading, i'm sorry for the time this took i hope this was enough ;-; thank you!