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baepsaetan · 2 years

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Ah, this was lovely! I think you did a great job setting up the star-struck eyes of a newcomer going to live in Paris, the “city of romance.” Your descriptions are so vivid, and there were several moments that really jumped out because of that. I was especially in love with how you described Y/N’s love of books, how they are experiences and lives and lessons that count for so much more than her 25 years. It’s a beautiful sentiment!

I also really enjoyed the bits of humour scattered throughout. Y/N and Tae squabbling was a nice lift from the wonder of Paris or Y/N’s loneliness, and I felt like I could really get into their relationship. This line:

You might reason it as the dire need to get some books.

Made me laugh. Love Y/N looking for that excuse. Also the:

“Now only he can help you find it.”

“God?”

“No such luck. It’s just Jimin.”

That was some amusing dialogue and I was grinning throughout most of that section.

You’ve really set up an excellent start to the story, establishing Y/N’s loneliness but also a path for her to start healing from that. Jimin and her relationship seems promising, and it would be interesting to see their interactions centering around Mimi’s and the bookstore vibe. Also wondering how Tae might react to Y/N finding yet another reason to ditch out on him. I can’t imagine he’ll be happy, so there’s some fun drama possibilities.

Last bit, Hobi is adorable and I like Jimin, too. Their relationship was really amusing just from the brief look we got, and they really seems like they’ve got a good friend vibe going on.

Thanks for writing! It was fun to read <3

paris in the rain || pjm [1]

pairing : bookstore owner!jimin x fem!reader

genre : angst, fluff, smut, strangers to friends to lovers.

rating : m (18+) ; minors dni

series summary : you hadn't expected to run into jimin, an unusually charming guy in the midst of love and peace, in paris. but here you were, falling for a man covered in the smell of old parchment and wine while also recovering from the traumatic experiences of your past. your work stay in paris, which you had took on for a change of atmosphere, changes every nook of your life.

chap word count : 5.7k

chap warnings : swearing.

author's note : okay so its finally here !! ik this one has very less jimin in it but trust me its important to set the mood aagh!! i hope yall enjoy my first series and lmk what yall think about it hehe :)

playlist | m.list | taglist

sugarwithtea m.list | taglist form(permanent)

city of love by alexi butirskiy

m.list | next.

Walking down the street, you can't feel more ecstatic.

Work had been a bitch lately but your boss did one thing right when she gave you the task of attending some upcoming art exhibitions in Paris, and writing reviews on them for the art section of your magazine. Initially your friend Yoona was also going to accompany you, but soon the plan changed when she was assigned to visit Boseong for the tea plantation's article.

Miranda, your boss has several acquaintances in this city. One of them was going to help and guide you on your three months long stay. The breeze cut through your hair swiftly as the sun slowly started to sink beneath the horizon.

You had asked Taehyung, the said acquaintance, to meet you at the studio apartment you were going to live in, your luggage already there via helpers. Your phone buzzed to indicate a message.

Taehyung (6:02 pm) : the helpers have left and i am at the apartment.

Taehyung (6:02 pm) : it's been half an hour since i have arrived !!

Taehyung (6:03 pm) : where are you?

You (6:03 pm) : omw; I'm walking hehe.

Taehyung (6:03 pm) : seriously?

Taehyung (6:04 pm) : come quickly, it seems like it's going to rain.

You (6:04 pm) : okay, mom.

You stuff your phone back in your coat pocket and look around in awe. You had met Taehyung twice before, once when he had come to Seoul to curate some pieces for the museum he works for, and again when you both ran into each other in Japan. You were there with your company, to cover a highly anticipated gallery opening, and him as a mere spectator.

Assumably, you had shown him around Seoul for a week or so, when he was there and so, he thought it would be best if he could return the favour when you were in his city. Thus, calling him a friend would be better than calling him Miranda's acquaintance.

The sky turns a weird mix of pink, golden and grey as you turn the corner to a buzzing street. The first thing that caught your eye was the head of the Eiffel tower peeking from between two buildings and lush green trees. The setting sun casted a soft lustre upon its form and the tower looked as loving as ever.

A feeling struck your heart, ever so lonely, ever so loveless, ever so gloomy. Maybe, it was one of the reasons you agreed to come here, to heal what was broken, in a way yet, unlovable.

When you glanced at the tower's iron structure, you saw what it reflected, the city's love and a hidden form of something unexpected, misery. You relate to it. An embodiment of love, filled with eternal misery.

People loved to call you friendly, a person who could attract peers and enemies alike, easily. An everlasting smile etched on your features, always announced your presence to everyone before you could officially do it. Little did they know, or noticed but never acknowledged, that your smile never reached your eyes, lingering at your cheekbones, drowning itself in the dark circles marked underneath your eyes, if ever so lightly.

Your eyes bounce off the structure and rake your surroundings, pausing on a peculiar sign, upholstered above a small shop with no exterior decorations except for a faded poster of a bestseller book and a small open sign hanging in the glass of its brown, shabby door. The shop had none of those tell-tale ground to ceiling glass windows. Instead, old, paneled walls are taking their place.

'MIMI'S DREAM'

The sign mentioned the aforementioned words in faded cursive letters.

All the other shops in the neighborhood were decorated impressively, to attract the people. They were cleaned and maintained, giving off the vintage vibes, but still fancy.

Mimi's Dream was none of the above. It was shabby, old and gave no efforts to attract people. The door was almost hidden between the glamour of the shops next to it. An odd sight, indeed, amongst the splendor of the street overlooked by the wonder of the city.

Your pace faltered as you neared it. An unmistakable scent of coffee and old parchment filled your senses and you paused right outside the door, weighing the options of stepping inside or stepping away. The only thing visible from the small glass partition on the door was a small desk pushed up against a shelf overflowing with books.

A mop of blonde hair kept on moving at the edge of the desk. The person, whose hair they were, was crouched down behind the desk, so you could only see the top of their head, which kept on shuffling here and there. Rest of the interior was mediocre, some of the shelves were dust-laden to be honest.

The option of stepping inside weighed more on your balancing pan and thus you moved forward to push open the door when a buzzing sound stopped you.

Taehyung could have not chosen a better time to call you.

He greets you with a shout in normal Taehyung manner.

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Outside Mimi's Dream."

"Outside what now?"

"It's a bookstore, Tae. What do you want?"

"You. I have places to be, Y/N. Cut the tour short and get your ass here."

He sounded livid, so fucking livid.

And, you? You were now scared for life.

It was a mess.

In all these peculiar sights you forgot the most peculiar man ever. Him waiting for you, at your apartment had slipped your mind completely. You mumble a small 'sorry' and dash from the place towards your apartment as the gray clouds started covering the sky above you.

Your apartment was a mess.

And amidst the mess, was standing Taehyung, his hair equally messy and eyes shooting daggers at you. Even though the daggers were blocked by the numerous cardboard boxes standing tall between him and the door, with him visible only slightly, his fury was well translated to you.

You picked up the small boxes at your feet, set them aside and started heading towards death personified. He was not even speaking anything, just looking at you with the expression your mom gave you when she found out you tried smoking weed. Your mom had also stared at you wordlessly, Taehyung putting you in a similar situation.

As you stood in front of him, face to face, your eyes cast down, though, he squinted his eyes at you and opened his mouth to tell you off. But, he stopped midway, snapped his mouth shut, shook his head and turned around, realizing you were already quite the disappointment for him to sour his tongue up with the words he was going to say.

Even though you knew the reason for his anger, you couldn't stop your mouth from acting up.

"What?" you spat as he faced his back to you, trying to navigate his way around your dumping ground.

"Nothing. I decided that murdering you is not worth the jail time." he said and sat down on a box, giving up his thought of going deeper in your house.

"Okay I'm sorry."

"What were you even doing for a whole hour? The route from the airport is straight and like ten minutes away on foot!" he prodded and you looked everywhere but him.

What were you going to say? A poorly decorated bookstore caught your eye and you were gathering the courage to step inside it? No thanks, you'd rather save yourself from the embarrassment. Lying always seemed like the best option for you anyway, so why not go with it.

"I thought I'd take a look around the neighborhood." you murmured, your feet being the most interesting for you at that moment.

"When I was waiting for you at this shithole?"

"I said I'm sorry. I didn't know I'd get too caught up!" you knew you were being inconsiderate but the look on his face almost made you laugh out loud.

He breathed anger, trying to subdue it by taking deep breaths. One thing you knew, you needed to make it up to him later, in some way or other as this was totally your fault.

You went forward to hug him and wrapping your arms around his torso, you mumbled into his chest

"Listen, I am so sorry, genuinely. I just got distracted by this beautiful city you live in. I promise I will make it up to you later as you had to give up your time doing nothing because of me."

"How?"

"Huh?" you looked up to him, your chin on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tighter.

"How are you gonna make it up to me?" a sly smile on his lips.

"Um, however you ask me to."

"I am going on a date with my girlfriend next week."

"Congratulations?"

"You'll be the one paying for it."

"Fuck no." you free yourself from his grasp and take a step back.

"Well then, okay. Have fun living in this city without any friends. Have fun learning French. Have fun with loneliness." he said and started moving towards the door, his lips still set in a wide ass grin.

You fucked up pretty well this time. There was no way you were going to let him go, leaving yourself to explore this city alone. He knew that, that bastard.

The only concern now on your mind was, where were he and her girlfriend going to, for a date. Knowing Taehyung, he'll probably choose some expensive place just to annoy you.

You rush towards him and quickly hold his wrist, almost tripping over a lone object on the floor.

"I'll do it."

His eyes sparkle with mischief as he looks down at you and nods his head in a way of saying, 'told you so.'

"Where are you guys going?"

"I'll let you know in three days, by Friday."

Prick. He has planned his date a week prior. It has to be something extravagant, given his expressions. You wish you don't have to spend way more than you can, you can't afford giving up a chunk of it on an unnecessary date in your first week in the city.

"You have not yet decided, have you?" you squint your eyes at him, trying your best so that he'll slip up the answer.

"Oh you'll be surprised to know that I have it all planned out. Just not for you to know yet, darling."

Two hours later you plop yourself down on the couch now in your living room and not in a bubble wrap against the window.

"Whatever." you huff and set yourself to work, him helping you around the house to arrange your stuff and settle down quickly.

"Food, food, food." Taehyung mumbles as he sits down beside you.

"Wait, I'm ordering something."

"No, there's a place down the street, it sells amazing fried chicken. I wanna eat that."

"So we are going there? You can't even stand properly Tae, how do you have the energy to walk down the street?"

"Not we, you."

"What?"

"They don't do deliveries, but they do pick ups."

You just cock an eyebrow at him without saying anything.

"What? Don't look at me like that. This is your house, it's your duty to feed your guest. And, I can wait here now, given that I have this whole couch to myself." and he proceeds to rest his head on the armrest and kicks his legs in your lap as you shrug them off almost immediately and stand up to collect your wallet.

You don't have the energy to argue with him and somewhere you still feel guilty for making him wait, though you should not as you're gonna pay for it, but you still do. That's why you proceed to do as he says.

The streetlights adorned the street giving it the look of a pearl necklace.

"You are going to pay for all your sins." you grit through your teeth and dash out.

The place Taehyung had mentioned was just five minutes away and you started trudging towards it in a slow walk as soon as you exited your building. Rounding a corner, you once again came in front of the familiar, peculiar store.

The lights outside were dim and you wanted to get a peek inside but you thought better as a previously disappointed man is already waiting for you. Still, a small smile plays on your lips as you walk past the door.

You glaze your eyes around yourself and once again delve into the feeling from before that day. You felt the hole all too well, but something told you the chatter and air of this city would help you in filling it up.

So indulged in your thoughts, you don't watch your way and bump into a wall. A soft wall. Wait, a moving wall.

Oh my god it was a person, very much alive, moving and soft.

You lose your footing and stumble back, your eyes closing for a fleeting second as you steady yourself. A soft thud follows your collision, the person dropping someone their belongings. Your face turns in a grimace as a shrill gasp leaves your mouth. The only thing then audible is a string of timid 'sorry' in a voice dipped in honey, garnished with crumbles but oh so sweet.

You open your eyes and cast your sight downwards, just to be met with a mop of blonde hair, crouching at your feet and collecting his books.

Mimi's Dream, the only thing that flashes your mind as soon as you see the all too familiar sight. He stands up, towering an inch or two above you and oh boy were you not ready for it.

He was beautiful. In a, sweep you off your feet at the first sight, kind of beautiful. His round cheeks and plump lips catch your attention. As you take his appearance in, his lips break into a shy smile, his eyes crinkling in the process.

Two crescent like eyes, with lashes dipped in night, his appearance was similar to that of a blonde Adonis. With high cheekbones and a sharp jawline, set on a pretty neck, he was too much to look at.

He handles some books in his hand and when looks at you staring at him, clears his throat, the shy smile still tugging at his lips. You soon look away and bow down, mumbling a small,

"I am sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Oh no, I am sorry. It was my fault too." he lets his voice ring in your ears softly as you meet his almost hidden eyes, due to his smile and slightly puffed, pink cheeks, due to the cold.

You let out a light chuckle with a shy it's okay and continue to stand there weirdly when he decides to break the awkward silence.

"You're a foreigner."

Your accent might have given you away or the fact that you chose to speak English instead of French for someone in Paris. Even though he looks Asian, you can never be so sure if he was brought up here or had immigrated, like you.

"Yes, I'm from Korea."

His widened eyes and the glimmer in them confirmed your assumption as he starts way too excitedly,

"Really? I am from Korea too."

Before you can even muster up a reply, a distant voice ringed in your ears.

"Jimin!" shouted a man from a few places behind you.

You swiftly turn around to look at a lean man with platinum blonde hair frayed over his forehead and lips formed into a sort of triangle. He was handsome, insanely so. You couldn't help but just stare at him. He wore printed baggy jeans and an oversized multi colored shirt, a stark contrast from the man you just bumped into.

"Yeah?" the man behind you, who you now assume is Jimin, quips with a tired voice. As if all he wanted now was to crash in his bed and not bear another second of the world moving around him.

"I'm hungry, man. Bring the books in quickly so we can eat."

"Uh, yes coming." Jimin grunts and looks at the back of your head. His stare burns the back of your head and you whip it around to look at him.

"It was nice meeting you, " he raises his eyebrows expectantly, with the softness of the freshly bloomed buds and extends a hand towards you.

"Y/N."

"Jimin." He smiles bashfully and grasps your hand in a gentle hold before letting it go and using it to better hold the books he was comically balancing with a single hand. You both giggle at the same time.

"It was nice meeting you too, Jimin." you speak and part your ways with no more words, just smiles and glances.

"Sorry once again." he calls out as you reach the corner.

"Likewise, Jimin." you quip back and turn around to find him walking backwards towards his shop, looking at you. You laugh again, "Now, go."

Lately Taehyung's been a little off.

And with that, you disappear round the corner.

You can't put a finger on the long list of reasons you have for his grumpiness. He is what you'd like to call a drama queen, over enthusiastic and overdramatic. There could've been complications at work, he could've been low by you bailing out on him constantly, maybe there's trouble in paradise, or maybe it's just one of his moods.

It had almost been a week since your arrival and you were rushing around, trying to settle yourself and your stuff in the new city. It had been overwhelming for you initially, especially when you realised many people did not speak English, and not everything was as romanticized as the books and the movies. So you were thankful when your neighbour Lily helped you out.

It had been so hectic that you were not able to meet Taehyung for almost a week. He had been trying to come up with plans to give you a tour of the city, the museums, the landmarks, the galleries, the cafes, the clubs, everything. But you were always cancelling on him due to your weary state, resorting to watching Netflix and eating to your heart's content whenever you even got an ounce of leisure time.

As a result, the man was now in one of his dramatic moods.

You were almost settled down, almost being the key word. So you decide to ask him to hangout with you. After all, he is the only one you know in this new world.

You (10:26 am) : hi. wanna hangout later?

Taehyung (10:31 am) : did the sun rise from the west today?

You (10:33 am) : shut up or I'm taking my words back.

Taehyung (10:33 am) : okay okay, sorry.

Taehyung (10:34 am) : and yes, I'd like to hangout with you, your majesty.

You (10:34 am) : my place?

Taehyung (10:35 am) : lmao no

You (10:35 am) : yours?

Taehyung (10:36 am) : be ready at 6. i'll pick u up

You (10:36 am) : and take me to?

Taehyung (10:36 am) : hell

You (10:36 am) : bitch?????

Taehyung (10:37 am) : relax, don't you believe me?

You (10:37 am) : um, no?

Taehyung (10:37 am) : good 😂

Taehyung (10:37 am) : anyways. don't cancel tonight.

You (10:38 am) : 👍🏻😒

These were the reasons why you were always scared to agree to any of his shenanigans. Always vague and increasing your nervousness, as well as dying curiosity. But at this point, you brought this upon yourself and you have to roll on with his antiques with a grudging smile.

You set your phone down on the kitchen counter and walk to the balcony of your bedroom, past your perfectly set up living area.

Your apartment had the classic, minimalistic design. A cream couch adorned the living room with a wooden coffee table and potted plants sitting atop the stools in the corner, with varying heights. A small bookshelf was pushed up against the wall and a loveseat was placed beside the window. It was small, but lovely.

Your eyes rake the expanse of the street visible from the small balcony. It was still the start of the day and people were rushing about with their morning caffeine clutched tightly in their hand and eyes cast low. Some were the exception and occasionally glanced about to absorb their surroundings or just strike up a chat with someone they know. It was a relief to see the life in the city move similarly to the one back home, yet differently.

While trying to take in the morning view from your apartment, your eyes once again fall on a particular blonde wandering the streets with his head low and hands tucked in the pockets of his trench coat. Your eyes follow his figure as he makes his way till a corner and then turns, hiding behind the blocks of buildings.

Jimin was a stranger. You knew nothing about him but his name and the place he worked at, the bookstore. Still, he kept on visiting your mind at random hours, for reasons unknown.

Your highschool friend, Gina always used to say that you thought about absurd things, your curiosity working it's way towards topics you have no relation to, at all. She was true, ofcourse. For right now your mind was running circles around only one person, Jimin. You were charmed by his presence. You died to know more about him. You died to look at him again. And you still don't know why you gulped down your coffee hastily, changed into a presentable pair of clothes, put on your coat, grabbed your keys and left your apartment.

The overhead bell rings as you set foot inside the shop and a smiling face looks up at you from behind the counter.

You might reason it as the dire need to get some books.

He is not Jimin.

But you are very much welcomed by him.

"Hello." he speaks in a chirpy tone and you can't stop the smile etching itself slowly on your face.

"Hey." you respond and gingerly make your way towards him.

He was dressed differently today, yet so similar, donning a black sweatshirt with a big smiley on it and his platinum blonde hair still frayed at his forehead, this time his lips in a heart shaped smile instead of a triangle. His radiance bounces off the shelves filled with books, him standing out against the vintage, old backdrop of the shop.

"Good morning. I am Hoseok."

You just smile at him without giving him your name, too lost to even return the act of kindness.

"What can I help you with?" he asks, softly, to gain your attention which he realizes he might have lost.

Your mind goes blank. You had not thought that to enter a bookstore, you'll need to have an excuse. You can't walk in there without any motive. In your panic, you say the first name that comes to your mind.

"Fitzgerald."

"Ah, classic." he says with the same, kind expression and you almost sigh with relief.

His eyes glide over your surroundings and stop at a corner which makes you whip your head towards it.

It was a mess, the shelves overflowing with old hardcovers with a passage between two such tall ones. A stack of books was placed at the end of the short partition, up against the wall with some stray pages covering the ground beside it. A wooden plaque with the sign 'Fiction' hung at the entrance.

Hoseok walks over to the corner and you follow him, spellbound by the sight in front of you.

You loved books. You loved the fact that there is a form of escapism so unreal, yet so real. The prints on paper bound by hardcovers or another layer of paper give you a sense of comfort hardly anyone could provide. The life you had lived was short compared to the ones your mind, your heart had lived. It was singular, it was just one. The ones lived by your heart were multiple, they took up small places in your existence and shaped you for the singular one you had to live. Your eyes read things your life couldn't display to you in its entirety of twenty five years. You eyes read things which taught you lessons your people couldn't teach you in the entirety of your twenty five years.

You close your eyes for a fleeting second and inhale the scent of parchment rolling off of fresh coffee. You open them with a forever smile marking your features.

"You'll definitely find him somewhere over here."

You snap out of your trance at Hoseok's words and look at him smiling at you.

"Ah, thankyou. I actually moved in recently and wanted to fill my shelves with some of my faves which I had to leave at home."

His face lights up at your words.

"How's the city treating you?"

"Like it has known me for years."

"Really?"

"No."

You both laugh at him seeing right through you at your half ass lie. Of course you have loved this city, but you are still adjusting to its glamour, to its reputation. You can't say it's been treating you like an old friend, but it is definitely trying to accommodate you well.

"It's good though. I am still navigating my way through the 'parisian' lifestyle." you make air quotes around Parisian and Hoseok snickers.

"Nothing extraordinary about that. I know you'll fit in well."

"Thank you so much." and you realize you never gave him your name.

"I am Y/N, by the way."

"Nice to meet you." he shakes your extended hand and turns towards the aisle of books in front of you.

"As I said, you must find him somewhere over here. I normally would have been able to find it out for you but Jimin recently rearranged the shelves." he says with a dent between his eyebrows and a disappointing voice, "without letting me know."

At his mention your ears perk up like a dog hearing his owner call him.

"Your co-worker?"

"More like my boss but yeah."

"Oh so this is his shop?"

"Yes, it was his grandfather's. Then his father's. And now he handles it." Hoseok looks at you with a soft glint in his eyes, as if reminiscing the days when Jimin's father used to run the store.

"Wow." is the only word you are able to conjure. This store is really vintage, it holds years of history and three generations have adored it.

"It's incredible." you look around the area in awe of it.

The interior is quite what you might have imagined it to have. The old wooden panels and worn off paint decorating its walls alluded to the overall vibe of the shop. There were numerous aisles in front of you, eac one of them had its genre mentioned on a plaque hanging at its entrance. The shelves lining the walls were adorned with statues made with alabaster or marble, displaying Greek gods and replicas of some famous pieces from the 14th century. There were blown off candles hurdled in a corner and hanging lights from the ceiling casted an incandescent glow all over the floor.

Hoseok claps his hands while looking at his desk and you immediately give him your attention.

"Okay so I'll be at the desk sorting some things out. If you need any help, just call out my name, okay?"

"Okay."

A thought suddenly strikes your mind and you turn on your heels to witness a departing Hoseok and call out to him.

"Yeah?"

"Has the name always been the same?"

He smiles and you both know the name you are talking about. A knowing look comes over his face and he raises his eyebrows a little bit.

When Hoseok said you'll find Fitzgerald somewhere among these shelves, he might have not mulled over the possibility that maybe you won't. Even though the thought was impulsive when you had spoken it out loud for him, you realized you really needed Gatsby and Benjamin Button to have a place on your shelf.

"No, they changed it." he says and prances off casually as you wonder what might have been the shop's original name then.

You had skimmed through the shelves, rather thoroughly and had failed to locate the books sitting atop them. You did find a lot of other books which always had a corner in your heart and as you moved about the aisle with the likes of Jane Austen, Orwell, Tolstoy, you wondered if you'd even find Fitzgerald among them.

You move towards the section which displays a set of books which were not dust ridden or had slightly worn off covers like the others. These had immaculately illustrated covers which used modern graphics and you know you have ventured into an area where your quest had the highest chances of failure.

Your eye catches the faded 'Romance' scribbled onto the side of a shelf and you run a finger over it, smiling at the thought that years ago a couple would have wrote it over there, or maybe the previous owners used less expensive methods of indication for the readers.

Raking your eyes over the shelves, you quickly grab a copy of One Last Stop with your free hand as you are yet to read it.

"Hoseok?" you call out and the reply is almost immediate.

"Yeah?"

"Help me, I can't find those books." you say and a soft padding sound follows as you hear his footsteps advancing towards you. He appears beside you at the end of the aisle.

"I swear to god I am going to fire Jimin."

"Yeah well good luck with that but I really can't find Fitzgerald anywhere over here." you laugh with him and both of you start your search again.

Amidst it, you try to glance out of the door and see rain pouring heavily and partially disrupting the morning buzz of the roads and adding to the eerie, peaceful vibe of the store.

Hoseok searches through the top shelves and you go through the bottom ones, removing the books and readjusting them. A while passes and almost all the books have been readjusted but your treasure hunt still didn't have any direction.

"Now only he can help you find it." Hoseok says and plops down on the floor with crossed legs and a tired stance.

"God?" you chuckle and follow suit.

"No such luck. It's just Jimin." he sighs and looks at you with his lips curved in apology and you smile a little at him.

"I am sorry this was such a mess. I swear we are better on other days."

"I am sure about that. It's just not our day today." you say and pat his arm encouragingly.

He studies you with an unreadable expression and you feel a silence sit around the both of you, comfortable enough for you to prop your chin on your folded knees pulled to your chest.

You were alone with a stranger but the rain sounds and the calm morning gave you comfort which was hard to achieve in the rush of moving in and settling down. You close your eyes for a second and realize you'll need to head home soon. Opening them with a groan you move your legs to break the peace.

"Aren't you waiting till he returns? He will be back soon."

"I want to, but I can't. I have to run some errands."

His lips form a triangle as you stand up and pat your butt to get rid of seemingly nothing. As soon as you pick up your phone which was out on the floor, the door opens, ringing the bell violently and in walks a very drenched Jimin.

"One more hour of this rain and we'll have to use boats to navigate the city." he grumbles, rather loudly and Hoseok slowly stands up as you just stare at him wide eyed.

He is wearing the same outfit you saw him in from your balcony, except his coat and hair are wet and his face carries an annoyed expression. Hoseok walks towards him with missiles to shoot instead of words.

"Boss, can you please kindly let me know where the fuck did you keep Fitzgerald after your impromptu rearrangement?" he asks with a sickly sweet smile which soon transforms into a sour face and you suppress a giggle at the look of pure horror on Jimin's face at Hoseok's sudden outburst.

He takes a second to contemplate his words and when he realizes, you watch his eyes turn into small crescents and cheeks puff up with a smile.

"Oh I have kept them in the inventory area."

"But they were old?"

"I know." and he gives no further explanation for his odd behaviour and walks up to a door at the back of the store you were just now discovering.

You and Hoseok look at each other, then at the door he disappeared to, then again at each other, trying to make sense but failing nevertheless. He returns a minute letter with a stack of books in his hands and comes to a halt in front of Hoseok while humming an old Polish tune.

It's then that he realizes of your presence in the store and turns his head towards you. Your eye catches his movement, mainly because you were staring at only him and he locks his eyes with yours.

His face changes demeanor and the nonchalant expression morphs into that of surprise, his eyes widening and body straightening up with an amused yet joyful small smile.

Hoseok looks between him and you and before he can open his mouth to ask the obvious question, Jimin speaks up.

"Y/N?"

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