MASTERPIECE/Yoonmin HIATUS

33// Jimin

Jimin pressed his finger against the doorbell. 

Ding dong.

He didn't know if anyone would answer, but he hoped so. He took a nervous step back, just in case someone opened the door.

But it didn't. He rang the doorbell again. 

The cold bit on the tip of his ears. It was November already, and the days grew colder and colder. The nights were chilly too, and it prevented him from sleeping. If he had had Yoongi there next to him then maybe it would've been easier... but Yoongi wasn't there.

He was just about to ring the doorbell again, when the door flung open.

"Jimin, I didn't expect to see you here. What are you doing here at seven am?" A half-flustered Namjoon said, soon accompanied by a sleepy Seokjin behind him.

"I know, I'm sorry. I know it's early, and I don't have any particular reason to be here but-"

"It's alright, Jimin," Seokjin interrupted. He pushed past Namjoon, opening his arms. Jimin didn't hesitate to embrace the older in a heartfelt hug. But, sadly, Seokjin broke the hug pretty quickly.

"I should've called you guys sometime, but I'm so caught up in this thing."

"What thing? Are you alright?" Namjoon asked, taking a step into the cold winter morning, putting a protective arm around Jimin.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just... I don't know, hyung."

"Let's get inside, it's cold out here," Seokjin remarked, and turned on his heels. Namjoon led Jimin inside, closing the door behind them.
The NamJin house smelled of vanilla, in a sense. Warm oranges, too. It was so welcoming, even this early in the morning.

"Go sit down, I'll make us some tea," Seokjin insisted, waving Jimin and Namjoon in the direction of the living room. Namjoon let Jimin dump down on the left couch, and he sat across him on the other.

"I, uh," Namjoon started, fiddling with his hands. Was he nervous about Jimin coming to their house? Jimin was too focused on the warm, sweet smell of the house to tell. It reminded him of Yoongi's house - but Yoongi's house was different. It was a bit spicier in the kitchen, and softer in the bathroom. Like curry and pepper, against detergent and soap. And the living room was warm, yet it had a cold scent - like snowy mornings and hustled nights. 
Jimin wondered what Yoongi was doing now; where he was. He hoped he was safe.

"Yeah?"

"I heard you, umh, I guess, well, we - well I, not Seokjin - were wondering, umh, but like," Namjoon mumbled, not finding his words. Jimin buried himself in the decorative pillows, a familiar scent surrounding him. He figured it was just the smell of the lovely house.

"Hyung, take it slow. We have all day, so no need to rush," Jimin assured, even though he didn't understand what Namjoon had to say.

"I heard you and Yoongi aren't doing very well," Namjoon finally blurted out. Jimin sat up straight. 

"Who told you that?"

"Just the wind," Namjoon chuckled awkwardly, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. They heard Seokjin say something in the kitchen, which was easy due to the open architecture of the house, but it went over Jimin's head.

"Was it Jungkook?" Jimin asked quietly. He didn't know why, but a ball of nervousness nestled in his throat.

"Yeah, why?"

"He's been showing up at my apartment the last few days. He won't leave me alone," Jimin muttered, more to himself than to Namjoon.

"Why would he talk about me and Yoongi? He knows nothing about that!" The ball of nervousness seemed to transition into a ball of irritation. Had Jungkook gone around and spread rumors about him and Yoongi? The boy knew nothing about them; only what Jimin had told him, which, for the record, was the bare minimum.