Secret Door

Jiminnie < 3

caught youi was just looking at it ‘-’you saved it tho

you only take like five seconds to when you really like something

that's genuinely not a thing

I've been keeping track for four months so I promise you it's a thing

which is embarrassing to admit out loud so let's please move on.

jimin

what

that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me

•••

….

•••

...okay well. I was just being observant. it's not a big deal. ANYWAY. front door tonight. walk in with me.

are you sure?

yes. I've been sure. you keep asking me.

I just want to make sure you're comfortable

I'm comfortable. I've been comfortable. I decided I was comfortable a long time ago and I've just been waiting for you to stop asking

wear the grey shirt okay? not because I think about what you wear or anything. it just looks really nice. on you specifically. okay I really am going now, i love u!

You stayed sitting on your bed for a moment. Then you got up, went to your closet, found the grey shirt. Held it for a second. Put it on. Stood in front of the mirror feeling a little ridiculous and entirely, helplessly, mindlessly happy.

She was already outside when you arrived and she saw you first.

You were still stepping out of the car when you heard her say your name and when you turned around she was already walking towards you, smiling and she was so pretty that your brain went completely offline for a minute.

She was wearing something dark and elegant with her hair done and her earrings catching the light and she looked like the version of herself that made rooms go quiet, if not loud, quiet. But she was also walking toward you in a way, that way she moved when it was just you, a little quicker than necessary, like she'd been waiting and was done waiting now.

She went up on her toes and hugged you.

Both arms around you, face tucking briefly against your neck, and you wrapped her up and held on and she was warm and she smelled like the perfume she always wore to these things and for a moment there was nothing else, no cameras, no lights, no event, just her.

"Hi" she said, into your collar.

"Hi" you said, into her hair.

She pulled back. Her hands went straight to your collar, smoothing it, adjusting it, checking each button with care, performing this whole small ritual with the seriousness of someone doing something important. You stood still and let her. You'd learned months ago that this was the thing her hands did when she'd missed you and couldn't just say so, understanding her completely was one of the very best achievements of your life.

"Grey shirt." she said, smiling

"As requested."

"It looks good." She smoothed the collar one final time and left her hands resting there, against your chest, just for a moment. Then she looked up. Her cheeks were already a little pink. "You look really good."

"So do you," you said. "You look—" and you meant to say something easy, something that didn't make it a whole thing, but she was right there and she was looking at you like that and what came out was: "you look so, so pretty. I keep forgetting and then I see you and I remember all over again."

She stared at you.

Then she looked very back down at your collar. Her hands finding the button that had been perfect for several minutes now.

"Thank you" she said, very quietly, to the button.

"You're welcome" you said, to the top of her hea.

She stood there for one more second. Then she took a small breath, straightened up, and took your hand, fingers sliding between yours like they already knew the way, like they'd been doing this forever, and started walking.

"Okay," she said. "Let's go. Don't say anything else nice for at least ten minutes so I can recover."

"I make no promises."

"Please," she said. "I'm asking nicely."

"I'll try my best."

"That's not reassuring." But she was squeezing your hand, and she was smiling and didn't let go.

As all the fools on parade cavort and carry on for waiting eyes—

The cameras went up the moment the doors opened.

All at once there was a total surge of light and sounds of clicking cameras, all of it pointed at her and you. You'd been to two of these before and it still caught you a little, the sheer weight of that attention. But Jimin walked into it the same way she always did, she'd already decided it had no authority over the evening, like it was simply weather, but she was the storm.

She was still holding your hand.

She leaned slightly toward you and said, close enough that you could hear her: "Giselle texted."

"When?"

"About four minutes ago. She said—" she was already fighting a smile "she said: unnie I'm watching the livestream right now and I need you to hold his hand tighter I can barely see it from this angle."