~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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Yoongi had just finished freshening up, the cool water helping him clear his thoughts after the unexpected but oddly comforting morning. He ran a hand through his damp hair, taking a deep breath before making his way downstairs.
As he stepped into the small kitchen, his eyes immediately landed on Jimin.
Jimin stood by the stove, dressed in fresh clothes, his damp hair slightly tousled from the shower. The soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the window made him look almost ethereal. He was focused, carefully flipping something in the pan, completely unaware of Yoongi’s presence.
Yoongi felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest.
Without thinking, he stepped closer.
Jimin, sensing a presence behind him, turned around—only to find Yoongi standing way too close.
His breath hitched.
Yoongi was right there, his face mere inches away. His freshly washed hair was still damp, his dark eyes unreadable as they held Jimin’s gaze.
Jimin’s heart pounded.
“Hyung—” he started, but his voice faltered.
Yoongi didn’t move, his eyes flickering down for a brief second—just for a moment—before meeting Jimin’s again.
Jimin swallowed hard, gripping the spatula in his hand tighter. “Uh… d-do you need something?”
Yoongi blinked as if snapping out of a trance. He stepped back slightly, clearing his throat. “No. Just… good morning.”
Jimin exhaled, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. “Good morning…”
Yoongi smirked a little, noticing Jimin’s flustered state.
“Breakfast smells good,” he said casually, leaning against the counter now, though the warmth of their close proximity still lingered.
Jimin quickly turned back to the stove, trying to focus. “Yeah, it’ll be ready soon. Go sit, hyung.”
Yoongi hummed in response, but instead of moving away, he just stood there, watching Jimin.
And Jimin… couldn’t stop himself from feeling the weight of Yoongi’s gaze on him.
Yoongi leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he continued watching Jimin with softening expression. Jimin tried to focus on cooking, but the weight of Yoongi’s gaze made his hands fumble slightly.
“Jimin, what are you thinking?” Yoongi suddenly asked, his voice deep and smooth.
Jimin flinched slightly, caught off guard. “Huh? N-nothing,” he stammered, avoiding eye contact.
Yoongi let out a small chuckle, tilting his head. “Listen… if you’re thinking about the morning, then don’t.”
