When they had left the party, Jimin had been grateful for the quiet companionship of his roommate.  He hadn't been to an engagement party since Yoona's death, or really anything of the sort.  He was unbelievably happy for Yoongi and Marie, but seeing the sheer joy in their faces at having found one another stung in a way he could not hope to fight.  Sometimes he almost forgot how much his missed the moments where he would get lost in her eyes or where they could just share a look and laugh over the shared thought they knew had passed between them.  He had been so busy that he had forgotten how terribly, incredibly lonely he was.

Somewhere along the train ride back toward their apartment, Jimin became aware of the sensation of eyes lingering on the back of his head.  He lifted his gaze to the side, but when they found Jungkook's face, it was turned toward the window, apparently observing the walls that housed the subway as they buzzed past in a blur.  So he cleared his throat, but couldn't find the words to break the silence that stretched between them.

He wasn't sure how many times this happened.  A few minutes would pass, the sensation would return, but each time Jimin looked, Jungkook's eyes were averted, focused somewhere other than him.  Was he making it up?  Was he hoping that, perhaps, his roommate would be the one to break the ice and ask the questions that were clearly lingering in his mind?  As the train lurched to a stop at their station, Jimin sighed and lead the way out into the warm night air.

At least the silence was easier to handle while they were walking. Jimin's legs moved quickly, carrying him toward the apartment and perhaps some solace.  He could drown himself in music, movies, anything but the deafening silence that seemed to be assaulting his senses at the moment.  He fumbled with the key when they reached the apartment, but finally pushed the door open, shoving through and kicking his shoes haphazardly toward the shoe rack.

Jungkook's brow had been creased with concern almost from the moment they left the party – or really, from the moment Taehyung had explained the situation, but what was he supposed to say?  His mind swirled with questions.  How had they met?  Why had he married her?  Had he been a part of the underworld?  Was it really possible to love someone other than your soulmate as much as it seemed he had loved this Yoona?  Rather than assaulting his new friend with the questions that seemed all-too intrusive, he had shut himself off, waiting for something to break the tension.

“Woah – hey, are you okay, hyung?”  The words had scarcely left Jungkook's lips before regret wrapped around him like an old wool blanket, sinking into his skin and digging at every pore.  He swallowed as Jimin turned toward him, and when he finally caught the sad smile on the man's face, his heart faltered.  “I'm sorry, we don't have to – it's not really my business anyway,” he quickly retracted his question, shifting his gaze to his feet as he began to shove his shoes off.

The voice that responded was so soft, Jungkook almost didn't believe he'd heard it, but it was so earnest that he could not possibly ignore the question.  “You didn't know, did you?”  Jimin seemed to hum reverently.  His eyes were still filled with that sadness, but they seemed to look straight past the stoic defence in Jungkook's gaze and into the chaos that had been buzzing in his mind.

“N... no.  I had no idea.  I mean I.  I guess I just assumed -” Jungkook stopped himself and shook his head, leaning against the wall.  

“It's okay, Jungkook.  I don't talk about her very much with strangers.  It's ah... I guess it's harder because it's just, that much more real that she isn't here.”  

For a moment, the two stood in silence, eyes darting away from one another to latch onto inanimate objects around the room.  “Would you like some tea?”  Jimin's voice finally broke through as he took a step toward the kitchen.  Jungkook nodded, releasing a heavy breath as he did.  “Alright.  I'll bring it to the living room.  I'm sure you have some questions,” he suggested.

Jungkook was tense as he waited in the living room, and couldn't mange to find a comfortable spot on their plush sofa.  His legs crossed and uncrossed as he leaned forward and then back again until, eventually, his hands pushed into his hair and held his head still. What the hell was he supposed to say about all this?  He had promised Tae, though, and he was, admittedly, curious about the whole situation.  When Jimin came in with the teapot and two mugs, he stood to take one and make room for the other on the sofa.  

“Give me just a minute,” Jimin hesitated before turning down the hall.  Jungkook's eyes followed him to the door of his bedroom, but he was coming out almost as soon as he'd entered, a small, rectangular object held in his hands.  The elder man plopped down with a sigh, and the younger seemed to snap back to the present, pouring the tea.  He could feel the eyes upon him, and when his hands were free, a picture frame was being pressed forward.

Jungkook took the frame with caution, his hands cradling it as if it were crystal rather than metal surrounding the image.  He felt his pulse quicken as his eyes fell on the picture, and Jimin's quiet voice met his ears like something out of a dream.  “This is Yoona. Was...,” he corrected himself with a sigh.  Dark eyes took in every detail, as if they needed to memorize everything about this person who had clearly meant so much to the men who were really the closest thing the young man had to family in Seoul.  Her dark hair was pinned intricately at her neck, but even in the style it was worn, he could tell it would have fallen nearly to her hips when let down.  Even with the laughter that was visible on her lips, her dark eyes were wide and full of a light he didn't think could be caught on film. She was breathtaking, but his eyes were already straying from the delicate curve of her jaw to the bright face next to hers.

“She really made you happy,” Jungkook mused as he took in the crescents formed in a younger Jimin's eyes as he looked at his n