Kim Namjoon - I don't believe in love, and if you are looking for that in me and us, then you should stop right here, Y/N.
Y/N - I'm not searching for love either, and I don't want you to feel anything special for me.
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Y/N - Why don't you i...
I unlocked the door to my flat, moving quietly as I stepped inside. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, warm glow over the space. As I passed by the living room, I saw them — Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung — completely passed out from the night before, sprawled on the couch and the floor. They looked peaceful, completely knocked out, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight.
I headed to the kitchen, feeling the slight heaviness from last night's drinks still clinging to me. What I needed now was a strong cup of coffee, something to clear the fog in my head. The city outside was already awake, but in here, it felt calm, the only sounds being the faint breaths of my friends and the gentle hum of the kettle as it warmed up.
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Just as the rich smell of coffee began to fill the room, I heard soft footsteps behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Jimin, his eyes barely open, hair tousled and messy from sleep. He stretched lazily, yawning as he made his way into the kitchen.
"Good morning," I greeted him quietly, not wanting to disturb the others still asleep.
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Jiminrubbed his eyes, looking up at me. "Morning, hyung. You're up already?"
"Yeah," I said with a small smile. "Couldn't sleep anymore. Want some coffee?"
He grimaced slightly, shaking his head. "Nah, I think I need something stronger. I'll make some hangover soup." Jimin paused, looking at me more closely, eyes scanning my face. "You look like you need it too. Do you want some?"
I chuckled softly. "Yeah, you're probably right. I could use some too."
Jimin nodded, already moving to the fridge, pulling out ingredients with the ease of someone who's done this many times before. I stood by the counter, watching him as he began chopping vegetables, the soft rhythm of his knife hitting the cutting board filling the quiet kitchen.
I leaned back slightly, my mind still waking up fully as Jimin worked. There was something comforting in the routine of it — the smell of broth starting to simmer, the clatter of pots and pans. I glanced at him as he stirred the pot, focused and calm, like he was in his element.
