Uɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ Lᴏᴠᴇ || ❀ TH×JM ❀

Pᴀʀᴛ- 44

Erm—

Jimin admired his reflection in the mirror, his fingers delicately combing through his styled hair. The strands shimmered under the soft glow of the vanity lights, and his freshly contoured jawline looked sharper than ever. Stunning. That was the only word that echoed in his mind. He looked stunning—flawless, even. Ready to turn heads and own the night at Yoongi's birthday party.

"If you bargain for one more minute, I swear I'll leave without you! You can keep playing dress-up all night," Taehyung's impatient voice boomed from the doorway. He was struggling to pull on his socks, his foot repeatedly missing the opening, his glare aimed sharply at Jimin's back.

Jimin rolled his eyes, groaning as he adjusted the corset cinched tightly around his waist. "You're not the one stuck wearing this torture device to hide your so-called tummy, you asshole! So stop nagging like a bull on...on...period cramps!"

Silence.

Taehyung's head slowly peeked around the corner, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. "A bull on WHAT? Jimin, do you even hear yourself? Also, gender much? Bulls don't even... Never mind." He let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And for the record, your 'tummy' is barely there. Seriously, you've got abs that are just... napping. And for the love of everything holy, stop pretending you need a corset. You look amazing. Look at your hair!" He gestured dramatically, his tone softening. "You're fabulous. Beyond fabulous. You could dethrone Aphrodite herself."

Jimin's pout softened almost instantly, his cheeks flushing with warmth. He tugged at the edges of his jacket, trying and failing to hide his shy smile. He'd never admit it, but compliments from Taehyung were his kryptonite.

"Fine~" Jimin whined, finally turning to face his younger brother. He gave a graceful twirl, the fabric of his top fluttering with the motion. He stopped dramatically, placing a hand on his hip. "Well? Don't you notice anything special about this outfit?"

Taehyung squinted at him, blinking blankly. "It's... shiny?"

Jimin groaned in exasperation. "Not the fabric, you moron. The design on the back! Read it."

Taehyung leaned in, craning his neck to inspect the intricate embroidery on the back of Jimin's top. His brow furrowed as he tried to decipher the swirls of text. "That's a whole-ass poem in...I don't even know what language. What does it mean?"

"Forget it," Jimin huffed, grabbing his jacket and throwing it over his shoulders. "It's wasted on you."

The dismissive tone only piqued Taehyung's curiosity, but he decided to let it go. For now. "You look pretty, by the way," he mumbled as they headed toward the car.

Jimin smirked, glancing at him sideways. "Hmm, I know."

Taehyung groaned, already regretting his attempt to be nice. "Let's just get this over with."

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. The house pulsed with energy, music booming from speakers as colorful lights danced across the walls. Jimin and Taehyung navigated through the crowd, greeted by familiar faces and the occasional stranger who couldn't help but admire their striking appearances.

Jimin, as expected, was the life of the party. He laughed, he danced, he stole the spotlight effortlessly. Taehyung trailed close behind, enjoying the festivities in his own quieter way, but always keeping an eye on his brother.

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of activities: drinks flowed freely, the dance floor was a chaotic mess of flailing limbs and coordinated moves, and the cake-cutting ceremony turned into a full-blown confetti war. Even Jimin, who avoided alcohol, felt a buzz from the sheer adrenaline of the evening. He stood atop a table at one point, rallying everyone to drink up and let loose, declaring, "We've got a flight tomorrow, and no one cares about the view from 35,000 feet! Just sleep through it!"  They even sung an anthem about tits and baby oils which had the sober ones embarrassed for the rest of their lives and well a lots of captured memories too.