“Dubu, that’s amazing,” you stared in awe at the mountain of paintings displayed all over the immaculate brightly lit walls, “This exposition is gigantic!”

A large oak-framed landscape of a calm sunset which’s bright red and orange flares reflected on the smooth surface of water and sand caught your eye; your feet carried you in front of it as if you were possessed by an art-loving spirit. Dahyun tripped on her feet but was able to gain her balance again thanks to the grip she had taken on your pea coat to drag you here. She swiftly put her fringe in order and joined you in your admiring fit. In spite of having a rough couple of weeks lately, the sight of art always seemed to calm you down. A wave of genuine positivity washed all your negative thoughts away while your eyes devoured the painting as if it were the perfect dessert.

The great luscious leaves of the palm trees wrapped their shadows over the bumpy sandbank. The tiniest amount of foam gathered at the end of the waves, leaving small bubbles on the infinitesimal grains, darkening their -usually- vibrant yellow tone.

“Damn, I knew you’d love it but I don’t think you should stare at it for longer…” Dahyun’s voice trailed, tearing your attention away from the painting, as a puzzled look flashed across your features, “I mean, I don’t want to ruin the moment or anything but I felt like you were going to start making out with it.” You rolled your eyes at her comment and began to walk in the opposite direction, towards a portrait which contrasted immensely with the first painting.

Iris-less eyes stared into your own, capturing your focus and leaving you with a somehow quiet and restful inner void. Straight pitch-black hair emphasized the woman’s pale tone. Any person passing by without giving it a second glance might think evident that the model was sick, however, you thought otherwise.

“See, that’s what I love in art,” you spoke, contemplating each and every single one of the paintbrush’s , “you may think that the woman is simply ill by her alabaster features, but truth is…” you paused, letting out a breath you did not know you were holding, “You can’t help but notice the slight lift of her eyebrows, the shadow of a smile which traces her lips… This all boils down to what you make of the painter’s work. You may think it’s just a girl who’s sick, I think that despite her illness she sees the good sides of still being alive and wants to make the most of what’s left for her.”

You kept inspecting every detail that might help you further your explanation, but your concentration quickly vanished as a voice much lower than Dahyun’s answered, “I like your point of view.”

Only noticing now that the grip on your arm was gone, you your heels rapidly. Min Yoongi. His dark eyes shone vividly in the over-lit room, watching the painting with a peaceful expression modelling his face. Was this what you looked like as well when in deep thought about a piece of art, then? No wonder Dahyun was so resolved to bring you here after all, it really was an intense gaze.

“I-I um, well thank you.” You smiled at him, “What about you? What do you think?” You turned around to look at the painting, taking a few steps back to reach his level.

Perhaps it was your voice, perhaps he had finished exploring the painting or perhaps he was simply intrigued by your genuine interest in him -that he did not know himself- what he indeed knew was that you had tugged at his heartstrings by your authenticity and the depth with which you had spoken about the painting. His black eyes shifted to you, instantaneously noticing the focused expression your eyes displayed as a light frown darkened your already very serious features. Your lips curved naturally into the tiniest hint of a smile, and although it was impossible to decipher what you were thinking about at this moment, he knew what you felt. Regardless of his vehement hatred for self-acknowledgement, especially concerning his own feelings, Yoongi knew all too well the feeling of being at peace with art and himself, after all, it was what had helped him in the toughest of times. Always art.

“I like your point of view, but I do not agree with it,” his glance shifted back to the painting but not before he noticed a slight blush creeping up your cheeks, “You see, even though she is indeed lifting her eyebrows, there is still a great amount of shadow obscuring her glare, plus, from the way her nose hooks down on the rest of her face, it seems like her energy is being drained downwards…” he paused in his argument to take a brief breath, allowing his eyes to take a quick look at you, and saw your mouth shape into an ‘o’. Feeling quite satisfied with himself, he allowed a smirk to spread across his lips and added, “and if you look from a certain angle you can notice the pattern on her headdress which resembles a lot to a-”

You smiled, not waiting for him to finish his sentence as you knew what he had kept as his last argument.

“Memento mori,” you breathed just loud enough for him to hear.

Amazement rapidly took over Yoongi’s features. It was not so much the fact that you knew of this phrase that bewildered him but more your thought process while depicting what you saw in the painting earlier on. If you knew of the Memento Mori, then what made you conclude that this was supposed to be taken as an optimistic view on life?

“Exactly.” He said quietly, but the slightest hint of confusion in his tone did not go unnoticed by your sharp hearing. Your smile was replaced by a grin, knowing that you could surprise him.

“Your point is as valid as any,” you replied nicely, “however, I do think that the Memento Mori does not take its usual meaning here. It is usually painted in the corner of the canvas, hence its relation to the unpredictability and inevitability of death. Yet, here it lays on her head for everyone to see. It is as if she has accepted her fate and she is telling everyone walking past this painting that they shall as well.”

Yoongi stood still for a few seconds, you could see in the corner of your eye that he was gaping at you as if he was an infant to whom you had just told that the tooth fairy did not exist. He shook his head, allowing his thoughts and knowledge to create an amalgamate of powerful counter-arguments but all he came up with was a cluster of basic hypotheses which came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“But how do you know she has the knowledge of the headdress resting on her hair? What if she is not the one who put it here?” Yoongi seemed so desperate to win the debate that you found it hard not to giggle at his cute gestures while his voice got higher as uncertainty laced his thoughts with the ribbon of desperation. “What if she is so sick that she cannot dress herself or even look in a mirror and this is just bad humour from her maids to mark her as a sick woman? What if she ordered the painting just to be remembered by her family because she did not want to look in a mirror knowing that she can’t be as beautiful as she once was?”

Once he had finished blurting out all his inquiries, you sighed lightly and your gaze shifted to him. His eyes stared deeply into your own but you did not feel as flustered as you would have thought, you almost felt at ease.

“I guess that’s the beauty of art.” You half-smiled, “You never really know what it’s all about, as I said earlier,” you took in a big breath and looked back at the painting, although your body was still facing Yoongi, “in the end, the artist’s work doesn’t really exist without his audience’s participation.”

“You’re right.” Yoongi stated, shifting your attention back on him as a blissful expression radiated from his every feature, “You sure seem to know a lot about the industry,” he spoke, his calm composure was back and he no longer looked as lost as he previously did, “are you an artist yourself by any chance?”

Before you had the opportunity to answer, the familiar rhythmic sound of heels coming your way made you close your mouth shut; indeed, as you shot a glance behind the singer’s shoulder, you saw a bright-pink haired woman making her way towards the both of you, but she was not alone.

“(Y/N)! Look who I found!” She shoved the tall man in front of her, “Taehyungie!” She exclaimed while making jazz hands in his direction.

“Don’t call me that.” He fake-frowned at her. In spite of Dahyun’s actions, he beamed at you, crossing the small space left between him and Yoongi in a few strides. As soon as he recognized beside whom he stood, he hugged the other singer, squishing his face against his torso. This time, you did not manage to hold back the laugh that formed in your throat. “I looked for you everywhere! Why did you leave me like this?” Not waiting for the older’s answer, Taehyung released Yoongi from his grip. He turned to you and bowed as you did the same.

“Nice to meet you.” You shyly hazarded.

“All the pleasure’s mine- I mean ours!” He threw his arm on Yoongi’s shoulder earning a deeper frown still, “right Yoongi-hyung?”

Yoongi sighed and grabbed the arm that lied on his shoulder, absentmindedly throwing it back at Taehyung’s side.

“Ok, ouch.” Taehyung rubbed his arm, acting as if he were annoyed.

“Did we interrupt you guys? What were you talking about? Wow this painting is so cool!” This came from Dahyun who pushed Taehyung out of her way, earning a playful glare from the man.

“Actually, we were talking about this painting. Yoongi-si-” you spoke calmly before being interrupted by the quietest of whispers beside you.

“You can call me Yoongi.”

You grinned at him and turned back to the couple who was inspecting the painting, “Yoongi said that the Memento Mori in this piece was to be taken for what it is but I argued that it may be an intentional mark of the artist to show an optimistic view on life whatever your condition may be.”

You watched as the singers in front of you cluelessly stared at you and then turned to face each other, “Did you understand a word of what she just said?” Taehyung inquired.

“I did not at all…” Dahyun replied while shaking her head.

Yoongi stepped in front of you, stopping the exchange between the singers right away, saving what little was left of your dignity, “Are you guys hungry? The food’s on me.”

Taehyung jumped and rapidly made his way past Yoongi to wrap you into a bone-crushing hug. He let go as swiftly as he took you in his arms, leaving you with a brain filled with a fog of bewilderment.

“I don’t know what you did to him but it’s a miracle! He usually never pays for food! I don’t understand what you’re saying but if it’s a spell, it definitely works on him!” He bolted off towards the exit, his slender figure shrinking as he got further and further away from you.

“I’ll try to keep an eye on him,” Dahyun stated, standing before Yoongi and you. She bowed at Yoongi and thanked him in advance for the meal before rushing off in the same direction as Taehyung.

“Aigo…” You breathed, watching her pink hair flow behind her as she almost tripped over her own feet a second time. You heard Yoongi chuckle which made your attention turn to him immediately. He did have one of the sweetest smiles.

“Tell me about it.” He said as you joined him in his laughter. He turned to you and offered his arm for you to take. You felt your rosy cheeks heat up at his gesture but slid your arm around his nonetheless, “How about you tell me your story?” You started walking towards the exit, slowly taking each step as if you were both trying to slow down time. The warmth of his coat slowly enveloped you into a warm bubble of calmness. Waves of bliss evaporated your worries and you felt completely content. You knew the inside of a mind could be dark and easily overshadow the positive sides of life with negative thoughts; but with Yoongi, all you could see were those vibrant rays of sunshine piercing through the clouded sky that was your soul.

“Gladly.”