It didn't happen right away, but you love Hoseok with all your heart. Your first thought in the morning and the only thing on your mind before you sleep, and you'd do anything to keep it that way.
Even if it hurts.
Namjoon couldn't stop thinking about your conversation.
Walking around with the knowledge that you were the last person to see Yoongi alive was eating at him.
And why hadn't you told your boyfriend?
It wasn't something he should be giving this much attention to but he couldn't shake the feeling that things just weren't that simple.
"Where's noona? Does she always get home this late?" Jimin's question brought him out of his head, focusing instead on the card game the guys had started. You'd always been a little bit of an anomaly to him and his group.
One they'd gradually accepted with repeated exposure, but it was times like this when they were reminded of just how unique you were.
It wasn't often, especially these days, that someone pursued the career of becoming a butcher. Hoseok said that your store was doing really well, the young locals loving the accessibility of fresh meat while also supporting a woman-owned business.
He was a proud boyfriend, that much was for certain.
"She should be coming soon. Sometimes it takes her a while to clean up the store, especially after a busy day." Your boyfriend answered, munching on popcorn as he spoke.
"She works by herself? Shouldn't she have employees to help?" Namjoon asked, throwing out a reverse card.
That had to be a lot of work. Getting meat delivered, chopping it up, selling it while also having to keep the store clean and keep track of finances. Then there was probably a huge freezer that you had like in those movies, huge hunks of meat hanging up waiting to be carved.
"That's what I said, but she said she likes to work alone and it's cheaper. I go help her out some days when she gets a big delivery, but man that woman is strong for someone so small."
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He cackled as Jimin got up to imitate you, batting his eyes and waving around his Uno cards like a meat cleaver,
You've been watching the company for a while, surveying the people walking in and out of the building from across the street. Despite the weather growing colder by the day, you sat at the bar that'd been placed up against the window of the small coffee shop.
There was draft coming in from the corner that slipped up the arm of your turtleneck and down your spine. Partnering that with the constant opening and closing of the shop door almost had you reconsidering this little adventure.
Then you saw him.
Dull grey coat wrapped around his stocky frame, and a black leather flat cap hiding those tacky blonde strands of hair.
You waited to see if he would head to the nearby parking garage but to your surprise and delight he kept walking down the street. You quickly threw a few bills on the bartop near your empty plate, snatched up your coat and scarf, threading your fingers through your gloves and hurried out the door.
