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Jeongguk blinks, mouth popped open as he continues staring over his shoulder. He squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them again, just wanting to make sure. But there's no denying it – he's not hallucinating. Jimin is right there.

Right there _in front of him._

For some reason, the first thing that comes to Jeongguk's mind is how tall Jimin looks. Taller than he remembers – and for a second – it's all Jeongguk can think about. He has no idea what he's supposed to say, or how he's supposed to react. Jeongguk isn't even entirely sure how he feels.

His heart beats so loudly inside of his chest that for a moment, all noise fades away and he can only focus on the way it rings in his ears. Jimin's silver hair is pushed back, his white sweater hanging loosely around his shoulders, back jeans fitting tightly around thighs and he looks so – he looks so heavenly and so sinful all the same time. He looks better than Jeongguk remembers, and he's not sure how that's even possible.

Jeongguk's breath catches in his throat and his lungs feel so tiny and useless and everything around him is a blur. His gaze locks with Jimin's, and it's like his skin melts into his bones and he's been missing that warmth for way too long.



  It's like he feels everything all at once and nothing at all, and Jimin is coming closer, he's impossibly close and then—

"Hey, Jeonggukie." Jeongguk's eyes widen and he just stares, mouth agape. He'd forgotten how soft and silky Jimin's voice is, and no amounts of phone calls or FaceTimes can substitute hearing it in person.

Jeongguk doesn't know what to say. He's not sure if he wants to scream or cry or both, isn't sure if Namjoon had even noticed that Jimin is here, right _here,_ within arm's reach.

"Jimin," Jeongguk repeats slowly, grasping onto the first word that flashes in his mind. He hates it. Hates how much this has thrown him off, how much it's affecting him. But Jeongguk lets himself be shocked, allows himself to take as much time as he needs to process this.

"Hi," Jimin's now standing right by his chair, so close that Jeongguk can smell the musky undertone of his cologne, and it brings Jeongguk back to months ago, when he would bury his nose in the crook of Jimin's neck and breathe in until he's lightheaded and content. "Is it okay if I sit with you?"

Jeongguk swallows. The hesitance in Jimin's demeanor as he taps his fingers against the edge of the table is something that Jeongguk isn't used to seeing all that much. He's _nervous,_ his gaze soft and gentle on Jeongguk and he can't help but notice that he looks a little... off.

_Sad,_ it dawns on him. He looks hesitant and sad. In that moment, Jeongguk realizes – he's probably terrified. This is probably a lot for him too.


"Of course," he replies, gesturing towards the empty chair at the head of the table, right by his side.




Jimin visibly relaxes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips and Jeongguk realizes that the whole table had fallen silent. It takes Jeongguk a second to register that everyone's just staring at him, probably waiting for him to either blow up or storm off. Jeongguk doesn't do either. He curls his fingers around his drink and brings the rim of the glass to his lips, slowly sipping on the ice-cold vodka-soda, hoping that it'll somehow make him snap out of it.


Namjoon is the first to clear his throat. "Jimin-ah," he says, slightly leaning over the table. "Wasn't expecting to see you here. It's... good to see you."


Jeongguk feels Namjoon's hand on his knee, gently squeezing. He's looking at Jimin, but he still reaches out to make sure he's alright and Jeongguk can feel his muscles relax and he takes another sip of his drink, just enough so he feels the pleasant warmth that bubbles right at the base of his throat.


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