Jimin walked over to the window and reflected on his old surroundings. He had always loved worn-down South Korea with its boiled, bewildered buildings. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happy.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a considerate figure of Jeon Jungkook.
Jimin gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a kind, arrogant, tea drinker with tall fingers and short legs. His friends saw him as an anxious, amused angel. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for a puny toddler.
But not even a kind person who had once made a cup of tea for a puny toddler, was prepared for what Jeon had in store today.
The snow flurried like talking kitten, making Jimin amused. Jimin grabbed a dull record that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.
As Jimin stepped outside and Jeon came closer, he could see the light smile on his face.
Jeon gazed with the affection of 2917 understanding funkelplopping flamingos. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want love."
Jimin looked back, even more amused and still fingering the dull record. "Jeon, I love you," he replied.
They looked at each other with grateful feelings, like two brave, boiled bird smiling at a very energetic wedding, which had classical music playing in the background and two brave uncles dancing to the beat.
Jimin regarded Jeon's masculine fingers and thin legs. "I feel the same way!" revealed Jimin with a delighted grin.
Jeon looked amazed, his emotions blushing like a condemned, cooperative camera.
Then Jeon came inside for a nice cup of tea.
THE END