You'd think, having gone through forty years of life, she would know exactly what she wanted for herself. 

Not quite. 

And it wasn't until Jihyo was wrapped around the bulk of Jongkook's arms, his warm breath fanning across the middle of her face, and crisp strands of his hair tickling her forehead that she understood, maybe she had wanted him all along. The coiling pit in her stomach, she could tolerate over the tightening around her chest-- that did nothing, by the way, to muffle the thud of her heartbeat. How she went about eleven years of her life ignoring this feeling was beyond her. 

But as she looked up at him, flustered, eyelashes fluttering as if she were some kind of damsel in distress--

He leaned in even closer, mouth hovering mere centimeters above hers, and whispered, "I've always wanted you, you know. After all this time." 

She swallowed, mouth dry. "You should know, I was always yours to take." 

And with that, theirs lips met delicately, as if

As if nothing. 

This is not going to happen, because it did not happen, and it will not happen between them. 

A quarter of her life, Jihyo had spent getting to know Jongkook, and now she does know him. Almost better than most any other people. There is no flutter, thrill, heart-pounding-could-you-actually-love-me kind of drama romance to be written about them, because they are both well past this phase.

The thing they have is the stuff you get after the high. Trust, compassion, friendship, and everything else solid. 
 

This is their life. Take it for what it is, if you will.