The familiar patterns of life took hold of Jimin and Jungkook just as they always did.  Two weeks after they had returned to Seoul, it seemed as if nothing had changed, as if they had simply returned to the same apartment they had left behind and brought nothing back with them from Busan.  In a way, it was true.  They had their jobs.  They had their respective rehearsals and performance engagements.  The same rhythm seemed to wrap itself around them, keeping them in the spiraling dance that prevented them from ever really finding the time to understand the truth that lie beneath.

Jimin could feel it, though.  His dreams each night were filled with dark eyes awash with concern, with gentle touches and comforting arms.  Every morning when he woke, he thought about it.  Thought about the man just down the hall, thought about how easy it would be to slip into his room, to curl into his side, to surrender himself to the emotion he had tried so hard to avoid.  

Along with the morning sun streaking through the window came the shock of reality, though.  So Jimin would sit up in his bed, gaze at the door for a moment, and push back the dreams that had kept him warm in the night.  He would kiss the the photograph of Yoona at his bedside, put on his suit, and head out into world.  Into the robotic motions of his daily life that kept him moving forward, one step at a time.

He was never sure why he couldn’t speak the truth, what exactly it was that kept him from sitting down with Jungkook and confessing - or at the very least figuring out whether those feelings were returned.  Every time he considered it, though, fear seemed to clutch Jimin’s heart.  Fear of loss, fear of returning to the loneliness that had consumed him for over two years, fear that he wouldn’t be enough.  

Everything and anything that Jimin could count as a distraction felt like a blessing.   If it could cut through his muddled thoughts and disrupt the bubbling sensation in his gut for even a little while, it was worth his time.  This was even truer when it came to Marie.

Their friendship had come easily from the very first day they’d met, and it had truly blossomed after the night of the band’s show.  Marie was sweet and caring and full of a curiosity that needed to be nurtured and embraced.  She was also very alone in a world completely foreign to the one she had always known, and Jimin fell easily into the role of elder brother.  He had been helping her with wedding plans from the beginning, and his voice was often the one that helped to bridge her ideas with those of Yoongi’s mother.

The wedding was less than a month away, and all of the details seemed to be coming together faster and faster.  One of the last - and most important - things that remained was Marie’s dress.  A cheque had come from her mother about a month earlier, a gift so that she could purchase a dress rather than rent one.  It was uncommon in Korea, but Jimin appreciated the meaning behind it for Marie.  It was something that would always be hers, something that showed that her family still cared, even if they wouldn’t be at the ceremony itself.

He had joined her at the shop for the final fitting and sat waiting anxiously outside the fitting room.  He remembered the day they had picked the gown, the tears that had filled everyone’s eyes.  Even Mrs. Min had been clearly moved by how much the garment meant to her future daughter-in-law, and how beautiful she looked in it.  

There was a shuffle and a gasp from behind the door, and Jimin leaned forward in his seat, hands gripping the arms of the chair.  Although it was for entirely different reasons, he was almost as eager to see Marie as he had been to see Yoona on their wedding day all those years ago.  There was something special about the way she had embraced his help with the wedding, and even more in the bond they had formed in the process.  If he thought about it, Marie had become like the younger sister Jimin had never thought to want - perhaps even the kind of woman he would want any daughter he raised to become.

The door creaked, and Jimin held his breath until Marie took one, then two tentative steps out into the area before the mirror.  Jimin’s jaw dropped and she offered a shy smile before she slowly twirled to show him the full dress.  “Oh Marie,” Jimin breathed, and he stood to offer his hand and help her up onto the little pedestal.

Her head bowed slightly as she stepped up, long dark hair falling over her cheeks to hide the blush that graced them.  The seamstress had truly worked a wonder, and the dress fit like a dream.  The bodice began with a bejewelled illusion neckline, tiny crystals dotting the sheer fabric as they swirled into an intricate design from her bosom to her waist.  There, a simple strip of satin belted at the smallest part of her waist, and from it waves of chiffon cascaded down her legs in a semi-full skirt.  It was delicate and angelic, and yet it seemed to frame all of her womanly beauty in the best way.

Jimin smiled and stepped a little closer to Marie’s side so he could tilt her chin up toward the mirror.  She towered above him on the little platform, but he felt as if he were smiling up at an angel with the way the soft white lights seemed to make her glow.  “Look at yourself, sweetheart.  You’re absolutely beautiful,” he spoke reverently, and Marie’s cheeks burned brighter for it, but she didn’t turn away from the mirror.

The rest of the fitting went smoothly - the dress was complete, and would wait at the shop to be picked up by Yoongi’s mother for safekeeping from his eyes.  Once Marie had changed back into her jeans and sweater, the pair headed down the street arm in arm for lunch at a small cafe.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting to get married half of my life, but I can’t believe it’s only a few weeks away now,” Marie confessed nervously with her hands wrapped around her mug of tea.  

Jimin offered a fond and knowing smile as he cupped her hands with his own.  “Perhaps especially that you get to marry your soulmate, and not the man your parents chose for you?”  His expression was kind and understanding, and it served to help Marie relax as she nodded in reply.

The sat for another moment, and finally Marie released a long, heavy breath that wasn’t quite a sigh and looked up to meet Jimin’s eyes.  “Jimin oppa, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, but I… I wasn’t sure when was really the best time to bring it up.”  Her words were soft and held a hint of nervousness that evoked every brotherly, protective feeling Jimin had ever felt for her.

“What is it, Marie?  You know you can ask me anything, I’m always -”

A soft chuckle interrupted Jimin’s words and he closed his mouth and pursed his lips with curiosity.  “See, this is exactly why I’m asking you,” Marie said as she caught his eyes with a smile.  Of course, this only served to further stir up Jimin’s curiosity, and his head tilted slightly to the right in anticipation.

Marie closed her eyes for another moment and took a breath before turning her hands out from the mug so that she could close her fingers around Jimin’s warm palms.  “Jimin oppa, from the first day I met you, you’ve taken such wonderful care of me.  You have always been so kind and you have helped me to make this place my home above and beyond the fact that it is where I