You Infire Me

Chapter Twelve: Alone Together

"Home isn't where you're from, it's where you find light when all grows dark."
—Pierce Brown, Golden Son

For the entirely of the drive back home, the air is filled with a hint of something different: the secret that you and Min Yoongi share. We kissed, you remind yourself. That was real. That wasn't a dream. Since that night, you hadn't told a soul—not even Bianca. Since that night, you and Yoongi were all slight blushes, stolen glances, and longing stares.

But as you pull onto your street, unlock your apartment, and unpack your suitcase, the sense that your vacation has ended finally sinks in. It's back to the grind: reading literature, examining research, writing papers, and—to make an extra buck or two—stamping books at the library whenever you can. A week passes, and everything seems to go completely back to normal, including your relationship with Yoongi. Blushes and glances and stares still abound, but your friendship remains. And you find yourself grateful for that. Don't jump into anything too fast, you continually tell yourself. Especially not with Yoongi. You can't do anything with him you'd regret.

He's too special.

The red and gold leaves of autumn turn brown, the West Virginia air turns crisper, and the week of Thanksgiving arrives.

"Aren't you going home?" Yoongi asks you that Monday morning over coffee. The town of Hunsaker has been abandoned, the college students fleeing to be with their families for the holiday. It's quiet enough for you to hear the wind whistling down Main Street.

You grip your latte in your hands, welcoming its warmth. "No," you admit. "I never do. It's too much of a drive for just a week-long break. I go home for Christmas, usually, though."

"Oh. That's good. I'm glad you'll get to see your family then," his eyes turn round with compassion as he takes a sip of his Americano. "But . . . don't you miss them during Thanksgiving? It's kind of a big holiday in America, I understand."

"If you're asking if I get lonely, the answer is yes," your voice shakes a bit, but after all you experienced together in DC, you know that there is no hiding anything from him anymore. Even lies of omission aren't an option. You simply must reveal everything you are to Min Yoongi. "Of course I get lonely," you continue. "But that's kind of the price you pay when you choose to go to college in the middle of nowhere. And I'm okay with it. I . . . I like being alone, a lot of the time."

He nods in understanding. "I like being alone too, sometimes. Often, even." Silence ensues, but you can see the gears turning in Yoongi's head, so you remain silent until he says: "But . . . I like being with you."

You inwardly sigh, content as can be. On the outside, you're the definition of composure.

"I like being with you, too," you tell him, your voice betraying you by wavering in apprehension. You're usually not this forward with anyone; but, truth be told, no one's usually this forward with you.

Here it is. My opportunity to ask the burning question.

"But Yoongi," you begin, anxious but firm. "What is this? What are we?"

He doesn't look surprised—but he doesn't exactly answer your question, either.

"I can't date you," he tells you, simply, straightforwardly. You try to hide your disappointment behind your coffee cup, but it must show, because he continues: "It isn't a problem with you—I can't date anyone."

You don't know what to say, but with your eyes, you urge him to continue.

"It's an industry standard, pretty much," he explains, "for k-pop. As an idol, I have to preserve a squeaky-clean image. I have to show my devotion to my fans. And . . . that means staying out of relationships. It's already risky business spending this much time with you in public. It's okay now that we're in Hunsaker, but you saw in DC how . . . how much it can get. And I would never–"