ON THE WRONG SIDE OF I DO.

Love arrives, often, draped in the most improbable silk-a moment woven from the chaotic threads of strangest circumstance. Probably a party, or even a drugged night where all memory is a wire maze. Jimin does not always announce itself with gentle grace.

Sometimes, Love is the radiant deception: the devil wearing the face of an angel. Its touch is fire disguised as warmth, and its promises are etched in a silver that turns to ash in your grasp. Jimin is a breathtaking betrayal, a poison so exquisite you drink it willingly.

And sometimes, Love is a relentless, aching force-so profoundly resentful, yet so unrelenting in its torture, wrecking everhthing and everyone in its path to you. Jimin is the memory that refuses to dim, the phantom limb that throbs in the dark, the bittersweet conviction that the pain is the only true measure of the feeling.

But the most terrifying truth is its proximity. No matter the distance you claw for, no matter the walls you desperately build, Love hovers dangerously close. Jimin is a shadow on the periphery of your peace, a low, constant vibration in the quiet air.

Jimin is waiting, needing, wanting to consume you-to dissolve the boundaries of your self into its overwhelming current. And in this terrifying surrender, this beautiful, destructive inevitability, there is the final, inescapable realization:

There is nothing Jungkook can do about it.