The Right Fit | BTS Maknae Line

34

The morning after was quiet. There was no kissing or cuddling or residual lovemaking to be done. You only stared at each other's bare faces until the alarm clocks hollered for you to move on with your day. And even then, it was utterly peaceful.

You had some clothes that you left behind from before the split and made an outfit from what you could find in your special drawer. Jimin held you at the door and groaned about letting you go. He would be waiting all day for you to return.

It isn't any easier for you. While stitching together sample pieces and traveling between the two boutiques, you just want to be cocooned in a blanket under Jimin and reminding him of what a beautiful human he is. The more you learn about him—his prince-like mannerisms, his interests, his humor—the more you come to cherish your uncommon connection.

Your unwavering business-only attitude was meant to boost your bank account numbers and secure early financial freedom, but, in turn, it's also served as an uncompromising barricade to every other aspect of your life that even remotely meant something to you. It wasn't until Jimin snuck through the crevices of your complicated life that he seemed to mend the broken pieces so that they wouldn't hurt as much. Because someone who truly cares for you will sacrifice the best parts of themselves to complete the rest of you. You know that now. You felt it when he forgave you without seeking revenge.

Now, you head home to pack a small bag with clean clothes and toiletries. You're going to try this thing once more, and you'll make sure to be better this time around. When you arrive at his place, he takes the bag from your shoulder and pulls you inside. "We're going out," he says.

You were expecting another quiet night in bed but you're more than happy to have a night on the town. "Is this a date?"

"No," he says, disappearing to the bedroom to drop off your things.

You follow and lean against the doorframe, eyeing him suspiciously as he rummages your bag. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"You'll know when we get there," he says, shaking his head and tossing your clothes on the bed. "You don't have anything to wear."

You glance down at your sweater and skirt then back up at the mess he's made. "What should I be wearing?"

He pulls his car keys from his pocket and walks over to leave a soft kiss on your furrowed brow. "I'll buy you something. Let's go."

You trip over your feet trying to catch up with his fast pace and grab his shoulder. "Wait, at least tell me why I need to change."

"I want everyone to want you."

Why would he want that? You climb into the Porsche and stare at him confusedly. He's so mysterious today. In a few short minutes, he escorts you inside a department store and picks several dresses for you to try—or, can you even call them dresses? They're really just slinky fabrics that are much too sexy to wear in public. "Are you sure this isn't lingerie?" you call through the curtain.

"Show me," he says, ignoring your questions for the hundredth time.

You step out and twirl in a red mini dress with a neckline buried deep in your breasts and straps so thin that they're barely visible crossing over your backside. He clenches his jaw and firmly nods. "Don't take it off," he says, leaving you to observe yourself in the mirror while he heads to the register.

Minutes later, you race back to the parking garage with his hand cuffed around your wrist. You cover your bouncing boobs and giggle at the thrill of trusting him to steer you into a series of otherwise unrehearsed impulses. This is a side of him you've never seen. "Please, why am I wearing this?"