The doorknob felt cold under Jimin’s hand, a small resistance before he twisted it open. A gust of wind swept through the hall, flipping the pages of a book left on a bare, vintage table. The ticking clock echoed in the emptiness, a stark rhythm. He traced his fingers over the dusty photo frames above the cupboard, then drifted towards the kitchen, a hollow ache in his chest. He stared at the empty dining table, feeling utterly helpless. + 

He went to the bathroom, changed, and then fell onto his bed. Rolling onto his side, he saw Jungkook sleeping peacefully. Jimin’s heart sank, a lead weight in his chest. He tried to reach out, his hand hovering just above Jungkook’s back, then drifted into sleep himself, a desperate, quiet ache settling over him. + 

(Author’s note removed) + 