~Park Jimin~ "A 22-year-old boy residing in a modest village nestled in Busan, shares his home with his devoted mother, their lives coloured by the stark realities of poverty."
~Min Yoongi~ "In the heart of South Korea, Min Yoongi was not a typical...
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Next day
After breakfast, Jimin made sure his mother took her medicines before turning to Yoongi.
“Come on, Hyung. I’ll take you somewhere special today,” Jimin said with a small smile.
Yoongi, who was lazily sipping his tea, raised an eyebrow. “Where?”
“You’ll see,” Jimin replied mysteriously before leading the way.
At the Agriculture Farm
The moment they arrived, Yoongi’s eyes widened in pure astonishment. The vast expanse of greenery, the rows of trees heavy with ripe fruits, and the golden sunlight filtering through the leaves—it was breathtaking.
“This… this is unreal,” Yoongi murmured, his voice filled with genuine awe. He had seen luxury all his life—skyscrapers, mansions, endless wealth—but never something as naturally beautiful as this.
Jimin chuckled at his reaction. “This is where a lot of our village’s fruits come from. The farmers take care of them every day, watering the plants, harvesting when the time is right.” He walked ahead, brushing his fingers over the leaves as he spoke.
Yoongi followed closely, his gaze not on the farm anymore, but on Jimin. The way the younger spoke so passionately, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight, his voice filled with warmth—it was mesmerizing.
Jimin plucked a ripe mango from a tree and turned to Yoongi with a playful grin. “Here, try this. Fresh from the tree.”
Yoongi took the mango hesitantly, his fingers brushing against Jimin’s. It was a small touch, but it sent a strange warmth through him. He didn’t know why, but everything about this moment—the golden sunlight, the fresh air, Jimin’s laughter—felt different.
Felt special.
As Jimin continued explaining about the different fruits and how they were grown, Yoongi barely heard a word. His mind was too occupied by something else entirely—the realization that he was falling for this boy.
Yoongi followed Jimin through the farm, his eyes drifting from the lush greenery to the boy walking beside him. The air was fresh, carrying the faint scent of ripened fruit, and the quiet rustling of leaves filled the silence between them.
Jimin spoke softly, his voice carrying a certain warmth. “You know… I used to come here a lot when I was younger. I’d just sit under that tree.” He pointed toward a large mango tree with thick branches. “It felt peaceful, like the world couldn’t touch me here.”
Yoongi hummed in response, glancing at the tree before looking back at Jimin. “It suits you.”
Jimin turned to him, a little surprised. “Huh?”
Yoongi cleared his throat, suddenly feeling nervous under Jimin’s gaze. “I mean… you. You fit in this kind of place. It’s… warm. Calming.”
Jimin blinked, his cheeks dusting a faint pink. “Oh… thanks.”
