Jungkook hadn't even done anything wrong this time. He hadn't responded to the man who had flirted with him, had kept his head down and hadn't strayed far enough to make the leash go taut, nor close enough to trip his master up. So, how then, he wound up getting a brutal beating in the alley beside the store he didn't know. All he knew was that the man with the pink hair that tenderly picked him up after, soothingly through his hair, was officially his favourite person to exist.

Taehyung watched Seokjin walk up to the statue. He watched him kiss the stone's lips, gently, as if afraid to break it. He thought there would be something bitter or empty that filled him, but there was nothing. He didn't feel a thing. His heart didn't even stutter in it's rhythm. He didn't know why it didn't hurt to see someone grant an inanimate angel what they wouldn't for a real one. His shoulders didn't even ache with the memory anymore. 

Jackson had hooked up with Namjoon. Mark really wanted to be nasty about him, call BTS' leader out as the clumsy, idiot dork that he really was, but watching the way he made Jackson smile, the way her face would light up whenever he called her or her soft little giggle from the top bunk which meant he'd texted her goodnight back . . . He couldn't bring himself to be that much of an .  (Sorry to anyone who read this before. It's actually finsihed now, properly.)

Jungkook was staring down at his hands. "I was talking to him twenty minutes ago. Twenty minutes ago, he was smiling at us. They both were."