Yoongi's POV:

“Thank you…,” I mutter when Jin hands me a mug full of hot chocolate. He avoids my gaze and sits down beside me, nursing his own cup. My fingers are buzzing from the warmth after being in the cold for so long that they had started to turn a dark hue of blue.

“We need to talk about what happened earlier,” Jin finally says, his voice full of hurt and confusion, reminding me of what I had said to cause this. “I- is that how you really feel?” He asks in a small voice, leaning forward to cross his arms, still not looking at me.

“No! I don’t feel that way,” I protest, pinching the bridge of my nose in irritation. In every situation I can see myself confessing to him, and yet in every scenario it ends with one of us in tears; one of us hurt. “I honestly don’t hate you, I didn’t know what I was saying.”

“You sounded really pissed,” he says lightly, but his voice is tinged with worry. “What’s going on? Did something happen with the girl you like?” This time Jin turns to look at me, his pink lips turned down in a frown.

“What? Yes- I mean, well, I guess.” Jin raises an eyebrow, taking a drink from his cup before placing it down on the ground, folding his arms on his chest. “How can you tell?”

“You’ve been crying,” he murmurs softly, reaching out and placing his hands around my own small hands holding the cup shakily. I open my mouth but nothing leaves my lips, what can I say to that?

“Now, tell me what’s going-,” he starts, but I cut him off before he can finish his sentence.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night,” I blurt out, staring at my hands encased within his own. Jin shakes his head, a playful scowl morphing on his face.

“You didn’t. The date wasn’t that great, not what I expected,” he confesses, letting go of my fingers, sitting back with a tired expression on his face. “I thought she was the one for me, but I didn’t really feel anything. It was more platonic than anything else.”

The relief that floods my body at his admission is quickly replaced by shame. I shouldn’t be feeling glad that his date didn’t go as planned, in fact I should be unhappy that he wasn’t happy.

“You look cute in my clothes,” Jin jokes, clearing the awkward silence. I glance down warily at his clothes that I’m wearing. The shirt is a little too big and it hangs off my small frame; the sweatpants are a little too big as well, they feel comfortable though. His sweater that he gave me is different. It smells a lot like him; his natural scent mixed with the strawberry cologne he always uses. And it looks like something he’d wear, judging by the light pink colour of it.

“Yah, don’t say that,” I mumble, trying to ignore the obvious blush creeping up my neck and flushing my cheeks a soft red. Jin pauses and stares at me weirdly, something sparking in his black eyes.

“You didn’t deny that you cried,” he points out, and the embarrassment I had been feeling quickly recedes, replaced by panic. "Yoongi, what’s going on? The Min Yoongi I know doesn’t cry."

He’s right. I can’t say anything against that because he’s right. No one has ever seen a tear in my eye or heard me cry, I save that for late at night when everyone’s sleeping, when 3AM flashes red on my alarm clock and the morning sky is as clear as the tears that run down my cheeks.

But my resolve weakens in front of Jin and he has the worst kind of effect on me.

And the best kind, I don’t mind.

“The girl,” I begin hesitantly, staring down into the cup, feigning interest towards the dark liquid drink. “She doesn’t like me.”

“Did you confess?” He asks gently, and he’s probably dealt with heartbroken people before because the way he says it is full of so much warmth and understanding.

I shake my head to his question and curl up against the side of the couch, placing my drink down, resting my head on my palm. I can’t look at him. I can’t look at him whilst talking about him to him.

“I can’t. You don’t understand. But I do know that she will never love me, she’s too good for me anyways.” My strong confidence wavers under the harsh glare of the light covering us, and the loneliness in my heart grows, wrapping around my chest and tightening.

“Don’t say that. In fact, she’s probably not good enough for you,” Jin snaps, not anger in his tone, but concern. I don’t think he’s ever seen me so pitiful before. “Why were you outside my apartment anyways?”

“I came to tell the girl that I liked her but I chickened out and made everything worse and more confusing for her.”

“Does she live near?” He asks me, shifting closer on the couch so that our legs are brushing. The small touch is enough to make me flustered and Jin probably notices but he doesn’t say anything.

“Yes,” I breathe shakily, because I’m in her house right now, but Jin doesn’t need to know that. “She lives very close by.”

“Where did you meet her?” Jin’s questions are getting lengthier and questionable, but I can’t seem to stop myself from answering.

“Underground club.”

He doesn’t even notice how alike this is to himself. I met him in an underground club and this is his house.

“How old is she?”

“She’s… Twenty-four.”

“Ah, going for ol