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Jimin has pulled his legs to himself in the comfortable couch he is sitting in, as he does everywhere.
His eyes are wandering over the furniture of the living room where he spent most of his time a while ago, listening to the clatters of the work done by the man in the kitchen.
Taehyung's parents, who divorced when he was a child, had two different lives in two different countries. Taehyung lived with his grandmother until the summer when the second year of high school ends and when he lost her, he refused to go to one of his parents and moved into this house.
He has been living here ever since. Jimin, on the other hand, got to know him at the school he came to by earning a scholarship away from his family had been living in another city.
It seemed cool to him at first that Taehyung lived alone at home while he was staying in the dormitory of the school. Afterwards, their time here edged up in a short time and they turned into housemates who only apart at night.
Everything is still the same. Everything is as he left it. Even Taehyung's sweet masculine scent that is instantly recognizable and subtly envelops everywhere.
The only difference was the lack of Jazz music that Taehyung played on his pickup as soon as he got home when they came back from school together.
Now the only sound in the room is Taehyung's clatters and the thin squeak of Jimin's fingernail that he's playing with his teeth. Jimin is unsure of how all this should feel, lowers his gaze.
He was embarrassed, as if he no longer had permission even to watch these items anymore, which he knew had fingerprints on each one.
After a few minutes that feels like a lifetime, steps from the kitchen take him out of the mess he's in.
Contrary to everything else in the house, he is somewhat surprised that there is no change in his familiarity with the owner of these steps approaching him. Realizing that he can't estrange him no matter how much he wants to is a feeling he can't control, and it still reassures him, even though he doesn't want it to.
He takes a quick glance at Taehyung's face as he takes the coffee cup handed to him through his thoughts. When the familiar smell of steam coming out of the hot drink reaches his nose, he feels a contraction settle in his stomach.
"Since when do you like this coffee?"
Just as Taehyung is about to sit on the couch, he raises his lowered gaze to him. He sees the man who had just pulled his legs comfortably towards himself, now lowering them both to the ground and leaning forward.
Tae restrains himself from rubbing his neck, as he does every time he is nervous.
"I still don't really like it, actually."
"I'm just surprised you still have it in your house,"
After one more sniff of the ginger and vanilla flavored coffee, which is perhaps Jimin's favorite thing in this country, he puts his pursed lips into the cup to take a sip, "You used to keep it at home because I like it, you didn't even like the smell of this coffee, as far as I remember."
