Forgotten Memories

Glimpse

Later that night, the living room was dimly lit by the soft golden glow of a floor lamp. Blankets were piled high, snacks scattered half-eaten across the coffee table, and a movie played in the background—long forgotten.

Taehyung lay sprawled across the floor, head resting on a cushion, feet kicking in the air as he scrolled through his phone. Jimin sat curled at one end of the couch, his legs tucked beneath him, munching on popcorn. Yoongi was in the middle, his arms stretched across the backrest, caught between the chaos of the two and the quiet rhythm of his own thoughts.

He glanced down at them—at his pub and his bear—and something warm and heavy pressed against his chest.

"Why are you staring at us like that?" Taehyung asked suddenly, eyes peeking over his screen.

"Yeah," Jimin chimed in, "you look like you're about to cry or write poetry or both."

Yoongi blinked, caught off guard. "Can't I just look at my kids?"

Taehyung laughed. "You sound like a tired grandpa."

Jimin leaned into him, resting his head on Yoongi's shoulder. "Well, you did adopt two emotional disasters, so..."

Yoongi snorted. "And I regret it every day."

"You liar," Jimin mumbled against his shirt.

Taehyung sat up, tossing his phone aside, and crawled over to wrap his arms around Yoongi from the other side. "We're the best thing that ever happened to you."

Yoongi didn't respond—not right away. 

But in the quiet warmth of that moment, with hearts beating in sync and arms wrapped around each other, none of them needed words.
They already knew.
They would be together.
Always.

~~~~~~~~~~~~🐰🐯

The next morning was the usual mess of sleepy groans, tangled blankets, and someone's sock mysteriously ending up in the fridge. 

"I swear if this is your sock again, Tae, I'm going to bury it in the backyard," Jimin muttered, holding the poor stinky socks like the sky has fell down.

Taehyung yawned, unbothered, "I sleepwalk. Maybe I fridge walk too."

Yoongi ignored them both, sipping his coffee while scrolling through university emails on his phone. "Orientation's in two days. You two should at least try to act normal in public."

"No promises," they said in unison.

And once again Min Yoongi rolled his eyes for the 13th time this morning.

The walk to university was, well, as expected, chaotically loud. His two best friends were busy doing their favorite thing: eating his mind alive with some salt and pepper.
No, they weren't carnivorous, Yoongi could confidently say that.
But mentally?

They were devouring his patience like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

The sun was bright but not harsh, casting dappled shadows under the cherry blossom trees that lined the walkways of the university . Students bustled around—new, hopeful, and buzzing with nervous energy.

Yoongi walked between Jimin and Taehyung, their shoulders brushing now and then, their laughter blending effortlessly with the hum of university life—chatter, footsteps, and the distant buzz of orientation announcements.

But the moment they stepped through the university gates, the air shifted.

Murmurs.

Whispers.