- Do you want to dance?- 

As surprising as it may sound, it wasn't Jongin who sent me the text. Neither was Jimin.

I sent the text to the latter after many minutes of reflection. 

Jimin has a real potential. He's clearly talented and could be referred as a dance machine. 

After I've headed to my bed, I've been thinking about how he was trying to make things work between us. I hadn't even tried to invite him somewhere while HE made the first move to stop the "hatred" between us, HE invited me to dinner with the members, HE took me to meet one of the most important people in his life Jihye, and HE called me every night after he got home.

It has already been two months after our parents announced our engagement. Two months and a half that I've been working at BihHit. And two months and a half that I've met Jongin.

My relationship with Jimin has gotten better. We grew closer everytime we spent time together. Everyday we meet at the company or he picks me up from home, we practice, we eat lunch with the rest of the members and he calls me when he gets home at night. I got used to talking to him before going to sleep.

Despite becoming closer, Jimin and I hadn't shown any act crossing friendship lines. We had never used any kind of skinship nor acted like an actual couple. Until the day of our engagement. 

Both of our families were there obviously. My father, Jihyun, my two uncles and aunt along with their sons and daughters, Mr and Mrs Park, his sister Bom and her boyfriend, his widowed grandmother along with his cousins, uncles and aunts, without forgetting the members of BTS and Bang PD-nim. Only one person was missing. Jiyong , who was at the other side of the world.

The event was held at the Park's mansion as it was supposed to remain secret from the media. 

When Jimin and I exchanged our engagement rings, our families forced us to kiss. Although he only kissed me on my forehead, so many thoughts and feelings ran through me. 

The kiss lasted for about 10 seconds. It was sweet and soft. It felt as if he was afraid to break me. He had cupped my face first, and had looked throught my eyes before slowly closing them and putting his soft plump lips on my forehead.

The image of him doing so is still saved in my mind. 

Ever since then, things have kind of changed. 

He held my hand everytime we're in the car. I was startled at first but couldn't remove it from his. It grew a habit for him to do so and I got used to it too. 

His hand fits perfectly well in mine. As if they were made for each other. 

Everytime he dropped me home, he makes sure he kisses my forehead and wishes me goodnight before driving back home and calling me afterwards.

In my life, I have never exchanged these kind of