The Right Fit | BTS Maknae Line

40

You open your eyes to darkness.

The opaque curtains block any ray of light from sneaking in. You aren't able to tell right away if dawn has already broken.

His arm is wrapped around your waist as he spoons you. His forehead lightly rests against the back of your head while his sleepy breaths tickle your neck and make the tiny hairs rise.

Slowly and reluctantly, you pull his arm from around you and slide out of the covers. Your bare feet touch the cold ground and you shiver.

Thinking of where your phone might be, you recap the tango you did from the doorway to the bedroom. You probably threw your bag somewhere in the living room.

Not bothering to put any clothes on, you walk out of the room and begin to search for your bag. It's exactly where you suspected it'd be, carelessly flung on the couch with its contents spilling out.

You retrieve your phone and send a text to Lisa, asking if she'll be okay with opening the shop and taking charge today.

She responds surprisingly quickly and agrees to the task. You sigh in relief and express your gratitude before trekking back to the bedroom.

You plug your phone into the charger and set it on the nightstand quietly. Sneaking back under the covers, you try not to wake Jimin, but he stirs and groans.

"Hi," you whisper, crawling into his arms and snuggling up to his chest.

"Hi," he nearly inaudibly whispers back, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

Your gaze remains focused on his face, memorizing his charm and delicate features which are noticeable even in the dark.

When he finishes rubbing his eyes, he stares back at you and smirks, pulling one corner of his lips back. His laugh lines are deep but sexy.

He edges closer to your face, picking his head up and laying it back down on the pillow inch by inch, his smile increasing as the distance closes.

"Park Jimin," you whisper before he lays a sweet kiss on your lips.

He pulls back and lets his head fall onto the pillow beside you, his hair flopping along with the motion. His eyelids flutter as he blinks away his tiredness.

You don't think before you say it. It sneaks out like an involuntary reaction.

"I love you."

Immediately after the last syllable, you catch your breath in your throat and choke. Should you retract your statement or begin an explanation?

"You're so cute," he chuckles, stroking your hair from your face and brushing the strands behind your ear with a finger.

Embarrassed, you bite your lip and attempt to turn away, but he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer.

"I must be drunk," you use as an excuse.

"You didn't drink last night," he recalls.

"Well, I'm not sure why I said I love you," you counter.

After some silence, he chuckles again and presses your head to his chest. You feel his heart beating against your flushed cheek.

"I love you, too," he says confidently.

You're still listening to the lub-dub rhythm of his rapidly pacing heart until you finally register his confession.

He loves you, too.

You're sure you already knew it. You both knew you loved each other, but neither had said it aloud.

You pull away and look up into his face. His gentle expression makes him look so soft and innocent. Sincerity is evident in his demeanor.