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Valentines has always looked a little different for Jimin and Minjeong, evolving and morphing as the ten years have passed through both of them like the wind. The direction shifts, the pace adapts to that year's weather, and the temperature is volatile. Sometimes it's icy, freezing them from the inside out. Sometimes it's like a warming breeze, passing through them as if they were leaves on a branch. Sometimes it's hotter, stranded together in a desert, alone for the brief moments they're allowed to have.
It's always different, there's always something, and that's always better than nothing.
They can both remember their first Valentine's Day like it was yesterday.
02/14/2017
They barely know each other, circling each other's spaces but never daring to intervene, never quite orbiting. They've met a few times; the initial meeting was awkward, even if they left it with fluttering stomachs and tightening chests.
It's difficult to make friends in an environment that constantly reminds them that their only value lies in their ability to fit images, with talent or their faces, and that everyone is the competition. How are they supposed to feel when they make a friend, alone and burnt out already, when they're only sixteen, and they're gone in the blink of an eye? Trainees who have been there for longer than a few weeks say it's not worth it; older trainees say it's the only way to survive.
In this case, Jimin is the marginally older trainee, and she wants to survive. With the shy trainee too scared to look her in the eye the first time they met, preferably, but she'll take anyone, at this point. She writes cards for each trainee she knows the name of, only the girls, because she's not having her dream ripped from her because she had the nerve to acknowledge the male gender.
Minjeong is one of the last people to receive their Valentine's cards, which are really just little notes written on paper ripped from Jimin's diary, because Minjeong is always hiding. Jimin finds her alone in the last vocal room in the hallway in the middle of the night.
The door creaks as Jimin pushes it open, startling Minjeong, who blushes furiously. She still hasn't gotten used to other people hearing her sing, even with the striking voice she has, and she avoids it when she can.
"You've got a great voice," Jimin muses aloud, the first sentence she's spoken to Minjeong in weeks, and it sears onto Minjeong's skin like a tattoo. She can still trace its mark now, a decade later.
Minjeong's hands fumble nervously with the microphone, facing the mirrors. "Thank you," she says, still a little thick with her Busan accent.
"Have I ever told you I like your accent?" Jimin asks, stepping further into the room, into Minjeong's space. Minjeong doesn't mind it as much as she usually does when she's interrupted like this.
Minjeong still doesn't turn around. "Yes, the first time we met," she replies, a little shaky, the tips of her ears flushed. Jimin nods appreciatively, and Minjeong suddenly feels the urge to give her more, because she doesn't know what Jimin's here for, but she thinks that she doesn't want her to go. "They're making me get rid of it."
"I know," Jimin hums, drawing closer until she's right behind Minjeong and they're making eye contact in the mirror. "I wish they'd let you keep it."
Maybe, in some other universe neither wish to be a part of, their Valentine's Days stop there. Maybe Minjeong gives up on her dreams and travels all the way back to Busan with nothing but the note in her hands and her tail between her legs. Maybe Jimin throws in the towel, her head held high, and never ventures outside Seoul.
Their first Valentine's could've just been a candle flickering with waning light. It wasn't, but Minjeong kept hold of the note, just in case it was–just in case, as the weeks travel by, it's the only thing of Jimin she'll ever carry.
That's the part nobody told Minjeong, or Jimin, for that matter, about training to be an idol. It's so fucking lonely. Minjeong keeps the note in a drawer now, but it used to take permanent residence underneath her pillow when she was a trainee.
She brought it out on the nights she missed her family the most. She brought it up when a trainee, close enough to be considered a friend, was sent home with their packed bags. She brought it out when she just needed to remind herself that someone, anyone, was there.
Some nights, Minjeong didn't bring it out at all, just kept it there to help her sleep. It's tear-stained now, yellowed with age, but Minjeong still puts it under her pillow to this day, sometimes. Usually, when she has to sleep alone, if Jimin has a pesky schedule that more often than not overruns into the early morning. On the nights Jimin's in a foreign country, Minjeong sleeps with it curled into her chest.
Jimin remembers their second Valentine's a lot more clearly than Minjeong, who blocked out the entire ordeal due to shyness and the general notion that she wanted to die as a result of that day. Jimin recounts it warmly, sometimes over takeout, far too greasy to stomach, just to see Minjeong blush.
02/14/2018
They're closer now, mostly Jimin's doing. Minjeong's not grown out of her shyness yet, even as some of it has been dug out from under her skin. It's pretty difficult to advance as a trainee if she doesn't sing in front of someone, she's learnt.
They don't dorm together, not yet–but they're both standing a little taller as the year went on, both in stature and reputation. even if Jimin stands just that bit taller, they've both been trainees for over a year–excelling in eliminations and the strain of it all, even if, at times, scraped knees, buckling limbs, and wavering minds make it feel less like thriving and more like surviving.
Still, there's an unspoken respect that mounts between the two of them. We're both still here, will that count for anything, in the end? They don't know, but they hope it does. Still, hope can dwindle, especially as, beside a Chinese trainee younger than both, they start recognising people in their assigned dorms and groups less and less.
Maybe that's what makes them start to intercept each other's natural path just that little bit more.
Or, correction, Jimin starts to intercept Minjeong's path. She'll hand her a water bottle if she so much as sweats during a practice, a reassuring palm on her shoulder if she messes up a bit of choreography. Sometimes, if Jimin's especially lucky, Minjeong lets her sit in on her solo vocal practice after hours.
At this point, they both chalk it up to something akin to nostalgia. I saw you before, I'll see you again, type of thing. When many faces have come and gone, washed away by the rain and replaced by a younger, fresher sunshine, the faces they can recognise start to hold more weight.
Minjeong thinks Jimin is going to make it; unfortunately, she's not the only one. Apparently, everyone in the damn building does, staff and trainees alike.
She gets it, she really, really does. Jimin was already popular on social media–certainly has the talent for it. a husky voice that sings with deep emotion, fluidity in her limbs that Minjeong dreams of one day obtaining.
A ridiculously pretty face, one that Minjeong also sometimes dreams about in the darkest of nights.
Combined with a generally outgoing personality, it makes sense that Jimin's swarmed on Valentine's Day.
Minjeong stands on the edges of a crowd brewing in the middle of a cafeteria this Valentine's Day. She knows Jimin's at the centre because Jimin is always in the centre. In dances or in crowds, it's natural for everyone to gravitate to her.
Not Minjeong, not yet.
So, she stands on the edges, fingers clenching around a candy bar she snuck into the building. The other hand trembles around a note of her own, one that weighs the same as the world, dangling by her thigh.
She waits for Jimin to notice her.
The thing is, what Minjeong still has yet to learn to its full depth is that Jimin will always notice her. whether it's now, all the way back in 2018, as she hides on the outskirts, or now, all the way to 2026, in which Jimin will search for her on stage every single time they perform.
Together.
Something else that Minjeong has yet to learn, will only find out a few years down the line, over soju, is that Jimin was waiting to spot Minjeong all along. Jimin supposes that if she's in the centre, it'll be easier for them to see each other. Jimin doesn't know that in years to come, she won't have to look very far.
Eventually, Jimin's eyes migrate towards a shy, hovering figure near the exit, and she knows before even seeing her face that it's Minjeong. After untangling herself from female juniors desperate for her attention and male seniors demanding as such, Jimin practically bounds over, hoping nobody follows.
"You're popular today," Minjeong speaks first, as monotone as she can muster, a cute little scowl across her face.
Jimin laughs, because you would too, wouldn't you? "I'm popular every day," Jimin counters, leaning forward to hear Minjeong better over the general ruckus. "And you should be, too."
"I don't want it," Minjeong says, clutching a little tighter to her gifts, the thought overwhelming even as a pipe nightmare she never really wants to be realised.
Jimin's face softens. "You'll be popular when we debut,"
Here's another thing Jimin's been on about lately: she's dead set that Minjeong will debut.
"Don't say things like that," Minjeong whines, turning in on herself, because Jimin says it so casually, with the utmost belief, when it's something Minjeong never really lets herself think about.
If she thinks about it, it makes everything that bit scarier–the practices, the evaluations, the claws of scrutiny sharper as they rip apart her skin. No, thank you. It's easier for Minjeong, right now, at least, just one day at a time.
Jimin senses the unease–always can. "So, why were you hiding over here?" she asks, changing the subject. "Do you, perhaps, have something for me?" she finishes with a sly grin, sending a flustered Minjeong a wink.
"Don't make it weird!" Minjeong whines, all soft and high-pitched. Jimin knows it now, doesn't need to wait a decade to find out–that's her favourite sound in the entire universe.
A laugh bubbles out of Jimin's throat. "You were the one hanging around like some stalker."
Minjeong shoves the note into Jimin's chest. "That's because you have so many fans!" she exclaims, a little short of a screech, before slipping the candy bar into Jimin's pocket. "My brother snuck that in with a letter," she whispers, all hushed.
Jimin's face morphs into a mock expression of scandalisation. "I'll write you up, Minjeongie," she singsongs as she holds the note close. "Tell him I say hi in your next letter,"
Minjeong rolls her eyes, but nods, anyway. Her name is called in the distance by a staff member, and she turns to Jimin with a sad little pout. "Happy Valentines…?" Minjeong trails off, nerves flitting over her features as they begin to twist.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Jimin confirms, bright grin and all. Minjeong goes to turn away, only for Jimin to catch her wrist at the last second. "Promise me that you'll always wait for me?" Jimin asks, grinning at the cheesy line, but the fluttering fingers on Minjeong's pulse point tell her something else.
"Only if you promise to always come looking."
They both had hoped those were promises they could keep. They both now know that they can.
Looking back, Minjeong thinks it's highly ridiculous that she still hadn't worked up the nerve to actually approach Jimin first. Still, Minjeong knows she would never change it if she had the power to do so. If she did, would Jimin still have asked her to wait? Minjeong doesn't want to find out.
Jimin, on the other hand, found the whole thing to be extremely endearing. She tells Minjeong a few months after that day that it never mattered how many people gifted her on Valentine's Day. She tells her that she'll only ever need to be one person's Valentine, and that person is Minjeong.
Only Minjeong, always Minjeong.
02/14/2019
Their third Valentine's, their third year as trainees, is when things, everything, really, start to eclipse them both. something akin to a black hole swallows them both, sucking the light out of their shared universe, the different planets they stand on crumbling underneath shaking legs.
It's a terrible year for both of them. While the previous year had brought praise for their talents, flowers amidst dying grass, this year brings a downpour–it doesn't so much nurture them, it's closer to drowning.
This year, Jimin can feel the water in her lungs with each breath. It cuts them short, making it harder to draw in the air she so desperately needs. She's older, now, just under nineteen years of age–and yes, while not at all old in the grand scheme of things, Jimin's noticed a bit of a trend.
The older you are, the less likely you are to debut. Jimin wonders if she's missed the train already, if she's wasted the last three years on a dream that can never be realised. For Minjeong, this year marks the first time she's seriously considered quitting. That's how Jimin finds her, curled into a ball on her bunk in their shared dorm in the early hours of Valentine's Day.
"Minjeongie?" comes Jimin's soft voice as she takes a seat on the bed, tentative, leaving space for Minjeong to come to her. That's how Jimin comforts, Minjeong learns today, and will notice for the rest of their lives. She'll remind Minjeong that she's there, always. "We have practice in 20 minutes," a gentle coax, and it wraps around Minjeong like a hug.
Minjeong shifts underneath her blanket, still hiding. "I don't want to do it," Minjeong replies, muffled, but undeniably small. weak, just like how she feels.
"I can tell the staff that you're sick," Jimin says, reaching forward to place a palm on what she hopes is Minjeong's leg.
“No, Jimin.” Minjeong starts, a groan slipping between pink lips that have been gnawed on insistently. "I don't want to do any of it anymore." Minjeong can feel the way Jimin's body stiffens against the mattress, the hand on her leg digging in, like she's clinging on for dear life.
Jimin is silent for a few moments, save for a harsh swallow. "Can I lie with you?" Jimin eventually asks, barely above a whisper.
"Sure."
Jimin joins her in the bed, and now they're both lying down on their backs. They're hiding underneath the blanket like they're still kids having a sleepover in an entirely different life. Instead, they're barely adults, pushed so fast past their own limits they can't remember what they even are anymore. Jimin's pinkie twitches, brushing against the back of Minjeong's hand that rests between them.
"I don't think I want this anymore," Minjeong says, hushed like the secret it is. It's the first time Minjeong has said it out loud, the confession materialising under the blanket with them, a noose Minjeong can almost wrap her fingers around. "It's just so hard, Jimin."
Hard doesn't even begin to cut a hole large enough in her chest to match the hollowed-out space where Minjeong's passion used to sit. Her muscles don't remember what it feels like not to ache. Her body doesn't remember the last time she got more than four hours of sleep or ate a meal that was actually sustaining. Her brain doesn't remember when this stopped being her dream; it only knows it has. Minjeong doesn't yet know that it'll come back, slowly but surely, with Jimin's help.
Jimin hums. "We all get like this, Minjeongie."
It's the first time they've ever done this–shoulder to shoulder, avoiding each other's eyes as they share breaths, but something tells both of them that it won't be the last.
Minjeong sniffles. "Not me," she shuffles underneath the blanket, inching closer to Jimin. "What if all this is for nothing?" she asks, hand arching into Jimin's lingering finger. "What if I don't debut? Or what if I do, and it doesn't end up being everything I've ever wanted? What if I've just wasted myself away for nothing to come of it? of me?"
Jimin gets it, she really does. It's the same questions she's asked herself, especially now, as her nineteenth birthday looms over her like a cloud simmering with thunder. Jimin shifts her shoulder so Minjeong can rest her head there, if she wants to. "I think I'm running out of time," Jimin shares, her voice shaking a little on the last few syllables.
A frown flickers across Minjeong's strained features. "You're going to debut," she says, fitting her head against Jimin's neck. "I know you thought it would be sooner, but that means you can only get better, Jimin."
She doesn't say that she's not even sure Jimin can get better, but she doesn't say it. Lately, compliments meant for Jimin have gotten stuck in her throat, unable to leave the tip of her tongue.
Jimin's reply is instant. "I don't want to, if it's not with you," she says, resting her head on top of Minjeong's. "Whether that's getting better, or debuting."
Minjeong's lips part wordlessly, flush creeping across her skin that she's started to wear like a second skin around Jimin. It's a bit foreign in this context. Minjeong's always been a blusher, benign comments from staff or strangers alike, but never around friends.
It'll take Minjeong a few more years to understand what that quite means.
"You've worked so hard, Minjeongie." Jimin praises, taking hold of the hand now, lightly squeezing the flesh. "I don't want you to do something you'll regret."
Minjeong remains quiet. It feels like she has a choice, a crossroads ahead of her, and she has no idea what path she wants to feel beneath her feet.
"You promised me that you'd wait for me," Jimin continues in Minjeong's silence, placing a hand over Minjeong's larger one. "Can you hang on until next month's evaluations to see if the feeling passes?"
It dawns on Minjeong then that both routes have the possibility of regret, but only one can be walked with Jimin by her side.
Minjeong sighs and then nods against Jimin's warm skin. "Can we still skip practice today?"
Jimin grins.
Minjeong found herself replaying that conversation in the dark for many years to come, but especially before her debut. If she wavered and Jimin wasn't there to steady her with cautious touches, Minjeong reminded herself of it.
They ended up sneaking out to a local food stall, with Jimin claiming a good meal could fix anything. They ate by the park, giggling like two school girls, fried chicken stuck between their teeth.
It became somewhat of a habit for them after that day. If Minjeong has a bad day, and she ends up having a lot that year, Jimin coaxes her out the window with a lopsided smile and cash her parents sent her.
Jimin knows her from back to front like she's been in Minjeong's life the entire time. Jimin knows her in the dark, like Minjeong glows, like she can see her clearly.
Even if, sometimes, Minjeong gets so, so lost in that dark.
02/14/2020
They get the news on a random Monday, like it's something insignificant discussed over breakfast, and not at all life-changing. They, Jimin and Minjeong, are going to debut. together. In the third quarter of this year, to iron out the last few creases, because they can't afford to debut with a single one. They will be able to say they debuted together.
There's a lot they still don't know about their future. They aren't sure what group name they'll have, or if a random stage name will be forced upon them. They aren't sure which demo they've practised a million times will make the final cut.
Minjeong's not sure she really cares. They could be called GlitterZ for their group name, and her stage name could be something stupid, like a season, or something. All that matters is that she's debuting with Jimin.
Finally.
Every bruise was worth it, even though Minjeong knows those same bruises will pale in comparison to the bumps in the road ahead. But, as previously mentioned, she doesn't care because it's finally confirmed that Jimin and Minjeong will be side by side, every single day, for at least the next seven years.
Along with two other girls, Aeri and Yizhou.
Minjeong likes them, of course. Yizhou has always been a powerhouse whose debut was set in stone from the moment she first hit a note. Aeri is quieter, but effortlessly funny, and Minjeong likes spending time with both of them.
The problem is, she can't spend time with either of them, or even Jimin, for that matter, outside of schedules that are run like a goddamn military drill. Minjeong has recently gotten the sense that she's preparing to get deployed and shipped out with a gun on her back, ready to fight a faceless enemy.
She'll soon find out that stepping out into the world as a young woman on a stage feels like the same thing.
And that is the sole reason for the sour expression on Minjeong's face this Valentine's Day.
Ever since their debut was announced, they've been moving like they're stuck in a rapid, pulled in every direction. There's always something they have to do: dance practice, re-recording songs, jacket shootings for different concepts, some of which none of them particularly like.
They don't have the luxury of complaining, let alone sleeping. They barely get a word in amongst each other as they're marched to different buildings, worked until their bodies fray and minds spiral like yarn. It takes a toll on all of them; Aeri is covered in muscle tape, Yizhou has learnt to nap with her eyes closed, Minjeong doesn't think she's said a complete sentence in a month, and Jimin's trying to keep them all together like glue that just won't stick.
But it'll be worth it, it'll get easier. They have to believe that.
There's always something that has to be done to them, Minjeong learns, whether she wants it or not. Her body is talked about like a commodity, something that can be positioned for maximum profit or interest. Her hair is nothing more than an accessory, an extension of herself that she has no control over. Her value is determined solely by what everyone else thinks of her.
As it turns out, there's always something negative to be said about them, too. Minjeong doesn't want to think of those words; corrections that sting whenever she falters, orders every fibre of her being doesn't want to comply with, insults that cut somewhere deeper and bleed all over her bed at night.
Minjeong collapses with exhaustion straight onto the couch as soon as they get back to their dorm, just before midnight, this Valentine's Day, out like a damn light.
Aeri nudges Jimin's shoulder, keeping her voice quiet. "Should we wake her when we sneak out?"
The only saving grace, Minjeong thinks, is Jimin, Aeri, and Yizhou. Especially Aeri, who somehow figured out every blind spot in their building a few weeks ago.
"No," Jimin replies with a whisper, fondly looking down at the sleeping girl. "Just bring the food back, I'll stay with her."
Aeri nods and disappears to shower. Jimin makes her way to the couch, carefully sitting in the empty space, since Minjeong has curled up into a ball. In her comfort position, Jimin has noticed. Jimin doesn't try to move much, doesn't want to disturb her, but the overwhelming need to help takes over her limbs.
Before she knows it, Jimin has a hand rubbing reassuring circles on Minjeong's back, while the other loops around her stomach very loosely. This keeps Minjeong close enough to Jimin's front, but not so close to crowd her.
After Aeri and Yizhou leave, Jimin lets herself relax into the couch, too, gentle praise mumbled sleepily through parted lips.
"I know this is hard, but you're being so strong."
"I'm so proud of you for pushing through for me."
"I am so grateful we get to do this together."
When Aeri and Yizhou come back with a pizza box each, they find both of them completely asleep. Somehow, in their sleep, they had shifted so much so that Jimin was effectively spooning Minjeong; the perfect picture of peace with parted lips and shared body heat.
Blackmail photos were obviously taken.
Upon reflection, all these years later, Minjeong and Jimin are still a little bit mad they weren't woken up to fresh pizza. However, they are thankful that a whole box was left just for the two of them, when they inevitably arose the next day with starving stomachs. Something Minjeong mumbles that same day, with half a mouthful of that pizza, is that it was the best sleep she had gotten all year.
Jimin smiles that day, the brightest and fullest she has been since their debut was announced.
02/14/2021
To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Minjeong finds their debut and subsequent three months of being active idols profoundly immense. They debuted with a single, are releasing another one in just a few days, a ballad, weirdly enough, and then another single in May. Three songs don't sound like a lot, in the grand scheme of things, but Minjeong now knows it's so much more than that.
It's singing the same lines, over and over again, with perfection never quite reached–lingering in her peripheral. It's practising the same choreography, over and over again, each mistake acting like another nail in the coffin, her body bending just before it breaks. It's lip-syncing and dancing to all of that eight hundred more times in eight hundred different outfits for the music video.
The other girls, Minjeong's members, seem unbelievably excited. Minjeong is less so, because it does promise more. More sleepless nights she'll spend wishing that Jimin was holding her, more aches and bruises that Jimin will gladly ice, more people watching when it's all said and done.
Minjeong doesn't realise, but Jimin notices.
On top of it all, there's a camera pointed at her from every angle. Minjeong's still a little camera-shy. The newfound attention begins to feel like thousands of hands squeezing at her throat. Every camera flash is a shock to the system like cold water. Every single mean comment slices at her skin, and the wound stays open for days.
The question still remains: Is this really what she wants? Sometimes, she's sure of it. When she's on stage, singing, just like she always wanted to, and now people can hear her voice and feel it in their bones, when Jimin smiles at her during a formation change. when someone, anyone, tells her that they're grateful she chose to do this. That's when Minjeong is so very sure this is what she really wants. Sometimes, not so much. When all she wants to do is sleep, but her body brain won't let her, too wired from a continuous cycle that deprives her of her basic human needs. When Jimin snaps at her in practice, it's because she's tired, too, and Minjeong just can't get this one twist right, when management won't allow her to have opinions on her own direction as an artist, not just a product.
To cope with it all, Minjeong sticks to what she knows, to those she holds close to her heart. namely, Jimin. the camera, and subsequently, the fandom notices it all, too. She's not sure how she feels about it, yet, her constant need for Jimin's presence, every lingering glance thrown Jimin's way, how she so visibly craves Jimin's touch, to all be immortalised on the internet forever.
The higher-ups say it's good for profit, though, so it's not like Minjeong can tell them to cut it. It's all out there; Minjeong perched on Jimin's lap as she belongs there, Minjeong's head fitting perfectly into the crook of Jimin's neck, Jimin always trying to bring her out of her shell.
Minjeong wonders if any of the fans know it's exactly the same off-camera, such as this Valentine's Day.
"Are we still on for tonight?" Jimin whispers in Minjeong's ear as they bump shoulders on their way to the company van. They're on their way back from another schedule, and Minjeong feels the exhaustion slow each step as if she were trying to run through water.
Minjeong would rather spend Valentine's curled up on the couch with Jimin, but her leader has been planning this for weeks. "Sure thing." Minjeong manages a fragile smile.
Jimin notices it as they climb into the car. "Really? We can just stay home, if you'd like," Jimin reassures her, throwing a blanket over Minjeong's lap so she doesn't get cold while they wait for the heating to kick in.
"I'm sure," Minjeong clarifies, her heart swelling beneath her ribcage.
Jimin looks at her steadily, searching Minjeong's face. "Okay," she finally says, settling into her own seat, casting a final glance Minjeong's way. "If we get there and you hate it, just tell me. We can ditch the whole thing and watch movies on the couch all night."
They make it to the restaurant ten minutes after their reservation, because Minjeong's dress got caught on the window. It's a fancy place, Minjeong can tell from the chandeliers and marble flooring, but when it advertises itself on 'privacy for celebrities', Minjeong's not sure why she expected anything less.
Celebrity–Minjeong still feels ridiculous referring to herself as such, especially when she walks into a place like this in a ripped dress.
"You look beautiful," Jimin tells her, because she's been able to read her thoughts all year, apparently, maybe even for as long as they've known each other. She places a hand on Minjeong's lower back to guide her to their seats.
A booth away from any windows or prying eyes.
They order and eat comfortably, Minjeong easing back into her skin and her heart slowing down, after their waiter takes their orders with no further comment. She's not used to it yet, someone always knowing her wherever she goes, and she's not sure she ever will.
That's what makes tonight so special. laughing freely with someone she's known, already, for half a decade. Bumping feet and brushing hands with someone she cares about without worrying whether it's been caught on camera and analysed frame by frame.
Being able to eat what she wants.
Nobody tells her she can't have extra dip on the side, nobody raises an eyebrow when she orders carbs, nobody is watching her but Jimin, and Minjeong is always happy for Jimin to look her way.
There's always been something secure in the way Jimin holds her gaze. approving, even when she messes up, because she can see how hard Minjeong tries. Adoring, even when Minjeong is bare-faced in the makeup chair, squirming away from prying eyes and meticulous hands.
Comforting.
The way she makes sure Minjeong is comfortable in their seats, eats enough food until she's stuffed, and then offers to feed her dessert, anyway. Minjeong lets her, of course, because who would turn down being spoon-fed strawberry cheesecake?
It's dizzyingly sweet as it melts on her tongue, but nowhere near as sweet as what Jimin says on their walk back, fingertips colliding as they walk so close.
"I did well, right?" Jimin asks, grinning from ear to ear, like a fool.
Minjeong rolls her eyes and bumps Jimin's shoulder. "Yes, well done, that was a wonderful Valentine's Day." Minjeong teases, even pausing for a mocking clap, but, soon enough, her expression softens under the moonlight. "I really needed it."
Jimin's expression somehow grows fonder. "Nothing but the best for my forever Valentine."
Lying in bed now, watching Jimin sleep next to her, Minjeong thinks that day, that cheesy line that could only come from Jimin, should've been the moment she realised how Jimin felt about her, and vice versa. It almost makes her snort, thinking about how long they danced around each other, circling but never striking, waiting for the dam to break.
Overall, she's just grateful that it didn't take the entire decade they've known each other.
02/14/22
A lot of things have changed between this Valentine's and the last one. To start, they, aespa, got a hell of a lot busier. They've got a mini album to their name now, a host of festivals to show for it, and another mini album coming up, along with Coachella.
Minjeong and Jimin aren't at all stressed, totally not. Their fans liked the mini album, and they aren't yet privy to hate their new mini album and Coachella performance will encounter, which they have to try and face together.
The turbulent nature of being an idol–how fun.
Despite all this, Minjeong has started to feel a little braver, less exposed when she steps on stage. Maybe it comes with experience, and it'll just get easier for her as the years tick by. Maybe it's the new haircut, a strikingly short blonde bob, which has Minjeong feeling the most herself she's felt in years. Maybe it's that Jimin is still here, unwavering even in the worst of times, even better in the best of them.
Minjeong thinks Jimin is positively thriving underneath the spotlight–she's always been more adept at handling it than the rest of them, she thinks, probably why Jimin is the leader, instead of any of the other three.
They spend Valentine's a little differently this year, and Minjeong doesn't actually mind.
"Aeri, did you get the chips Minjeong likes?" Jimin calls from the couch, Minjeong already curled into her side.
For once, it's a relatively ordinary Monday for them. The schedule the night before had run so late it entered the early hours of the morning, so, as a rare act of generosity, they have a single day off.
Minjeong is more excited than she'd like to admit, lying on the couch in her pyjamas like it's not mid-afternoon. It's nice, she thinks, lounging here, enveloped in Jimin's perfume, waiting on Aeri and Yizhou to distribute all the snacks. They've planned a movie marathon for the four of them, cheesy rom-coms and the like, to remind themselves it's Valentine's Day.
It makes Minjeong feel normal, like they're all just a group of friends and not coworkers at the worst of times. Minjeong hasn't seen any of them like that in years, especially not Jimin.
Jimin, whom Minjeong started to feel all sorts of things beyond friendship for. Jimin, who will tell her eventually that Minjeong had the same subtlety as a hand grenade. Jimin, who has already opened the bag of chips and is holding one towards Minjeong's face.
Minjeong accepts it with flushed cheeks, crunching as Yizhou settles next to her on the couch. She ignores Yizhou's subsequent wiggling eyebrows when Jimin casually places an arm around Minjeong's shoulders. Minjeong gets to tease her back when Aeri joins the trio by sitting on the floor, back to the couch, resting Yizhou's legs on her shoulders and massaging the sore calves.
If Minjeong has the subtlety of a hand grenade, Yizhou resembles a jet engine.
It gives them something pretty good to talk about; Yizhou kicking Jimin out of their shared room so she and Minjeong can gossip about their crushes on the eldest two members. They're the first and only people who know, giggles passed over hushed whispers, two hearts beating to an entirely different rhythm.
'Jimin looked so good in practice.' met with 'I know, and did you see Aeri when she came back from the gym?!'
It's nice to have someone who gets it–because the realisation hadn't exactly come to Minjeong as naturally as the sun rises each morning.
Valentines, so far, is entirely uneventful. Jimin cries during one of the movies, and Aeri lightly makes fun of her. Yizhou falls asleep during the third movie, Minjeong during the fourth, and they all eat far too much takeout.
It's almost perfect.
And, when it's almost all said and done, right at the end of the night, when Minjeong has thoughts of a hot shower and a warm bed, Jimin gently pulls the rug out from under her. She knocks on Minjeong's door, clad in a hat and a fluffy coat. "I found a park nearby if you wanna come."
Minjeong peers up from over the phone. "Just us?"
"Just us," Jimin confirms, her smile settling into Minjeong's bones and warming them more than any shower ever could.
It's nothing but fun, at first. They move through the park in a ritualised way, as if they've done it before, or in another life. It goes like this: swings, slide, swings again, Jimin falls off the monkey bars, and Minjeong laughs at her. Eventually, they grow tired, even with the weight of their world lifted off their shoulders, their feet begin to drag.
Jimin sits first, patting the ground next to her like it's not gravel.
Minjeong obliges. "Thank you for bringing me here," she says softly.
"Thank you for always coming with me," Jimin replies, resting her palms on the ground. "How have you been?"
Minjeong looks at Jimin for a second, finds her already looking back. "We've been around each other all day…" Minjeong trails off, a sound caught between a chuckle and confusion so palpable she can almost taste it sticking in her throat.
Jimin shrinks into herself, just a little bit, and it's a strange look, Minjeong thinks. Their leader, her leader, always standing so tall, reduced to a fracture. "We have a lot coming up, and we've just done a lot. I'm wondering how you're doing," Jimin says carefully, skirting somewhat around the issue.
Minjeong thinks about it for a moment. Things have been tough, definitely, and things will get even tougher, definitely. But, if all that bruising pain, all those sleepless nights, all those cameras pointed her way, can give her something in return? If Jimin can ice all the bruises, if all those sleepless nights are rewarded with days like this, if all those cameras turn her into a source of happiness for someone in any corner of the globe?
She thinks it's worth it. Definitely.
Minjeong reaches for Jimin's hand in the dark, finds it easily, flat down on the ground. "I'm okay, seriously. I hope you are, too."
Jimin breathes an audible sigh of relief. "Have I ever thanked you?" she asks, gripping onto Minjeong's fingers.
"For what?" Minjeong hums.
"For sticking it all out. for waiting for me, for us, to debut."
Minjeong flushes underneath the moonlight. "You never had to."
"Still, thank you," Jimin says anyway, shifting so their shoulders bump.
Minjeong lifts her head to look at the sky. There are so many stars hanging above her, and it makes Minjeong feel small, for a second–like she's human. That she's allowed to stumble, trip, or even fall. That she's allowed to make mistakes; in practice, on stage, anywhere. that she's not alone, when the brightest star in the universe is sitting right next to her, it's a welcome feeling. Minjeong thinks that this year is her favourite Valentine's Day yet.
At times like this, awake in the early hours of the day in a hotel in a foreign country, Minjeong misses that park the most. It's close to their dorm, but Jimin always kept it a secret from the other two members. Called it their spot, wouldn't let anyone else take it from them. Minjeong thinks it's a little silly, because they're definitely not the only two people in Seoul to know of its existence, but she'll never say that to Jimin.
It remains as their spot even when they all, bar Minjeong, ventured outside of the dorm to find their own places in the city. It's Minjeong's home, after all.
While neither Jimin nor Minjeong could possibly know this information, unless they both have a third eye nobody knows about, or Jimin was somehow planning an impromptu confession an entire year in advance, that was the last year they would spend Valentine's as friends. Jimin has no complaints all these years later, neither does Minjeong. It's their spot for a reason.
02/14/2023
It would be fair to say that for all four members, 2022 was not exactly the greatest year of their lives, and they're all more than happy to move on to better things. The thing with moving on to better things is that they, more often than not, are bigger.
Their fanbase is growing. Their schedules are multiplying. The success keeps breaking more records. By default, the bad things get bigger, too. Their stress is so intense that none of them can remember what it feels like to be relaxed anymore. Their bruises don't even fade before fresh ones mark pale skin. Their lives just keep spinning like the world turns, only a million times faster.
February is stacked for them. They have two days of circle chart award show performances coming up. feet blister, muscles ache, brain's fry–but they push through, they always do, even when they're on their last tether. especially when that's not even close to the start of it, let alone the end.
Their first-ever world tour starts on the 25th of February.
It's just a fraction more terrifying than it is exciting. Sure, they all, especially Minjeong, are so, so thrilled to meet more of their fans, but, good grief, what is more exposing than this? main stage, only performers, with people all across the world paying to see them shine. a million questions brew and then sit in Minjeong's brain like bad coffee.
Will anyone even come? How well-known even are they, across the globe? What if fans are disappointed? What if she simply isn't good enough? The list never ends, and with each new choreography learned, each new line sung on her first solo, more worries begin to mount.
Minjeong can't move it, so she pushes herself harder.
She stays late at dance practice, becomes a perfectionist in the recording studio, and lies awake at night hoping her members don't feel quite like this.
As if that pressure wasn't enough, there's a mini album happening during the tour, because fuck a vacation, apparently. They're all trying to pretend like they're not all about to throw up from exhaustion and nerves.
As a result, most of February is split between the practice room and the recording studio, and music video shooting locations. Very healthy, they all agree, as the days stretch into one gigantic, tiring blur. Aeri clings to Jimin like the older woman is life support personified, Yizhou wears sunglasses indoors, Minjeong can barely force a mouthful of food down, and Jimin, their poor, sweet leader, is well and truly on her last legs.
Demonstrated so beautifully this Valentine's Day, which is spent from dusk till dawn in their practice room. a very bland, very grey, four-walled prison.
"Aeri, for god's sake, we need to get this part right."
"Yizhou, please, one more run through."
"Minjeong, you're not fluid enough here. again."
None of them has ever seen Jimin like this.
Her spine is rigid as she watches their latest rehearsal on her iPad, her eyebrows furrowed as she analyses every angle. Her bottom lip is pinned between pearly white teeth as she reads the lyrics for her solo a million times, trying to commit each word to memory. Her hands are frantic as she frets about stage directions, a copy of the cue sheet crumpled on the floor by her feet.
Still, there are echoes of the leader they all know and love in the fragments that splinter under the pressure.
"Aeri, it's okay; you can fix it."
"Yizhou, we can wait if you need a few minutes."
"Minjeong, drink some water, you look like you're about to pass out."
This Jimin is much more familiar–Minjeong's heart aches for her.
Palms planted firmly on Aeri's shoulders, eyes warm and open as she encourages her. A weighted glance sent Yizhou's way, frowning as she notes the exhaustion rippling through the youngest's body. Fingers brushing against Minjeong's trembling ones as she passes her the water bottle, watching to make sure Minjeong doesn't waste a single drop.
They get through the day.
Jimin dismisses them all a little after 11 pm, hands on her hips, face drooping with either exhaustion or total resignation–Minjeong can't tell. So, when Aeri and Yizhou bid them both good night, slipping out of the door like a whisper, Minjeong stays, because Jimin hasn't left yet.
Because Jimin sinks to the floor like an anchor, her back supported by the mirrors worn by one of the walls, head resting on her knees. Minjeong joins her wordlessly, moving close enough so that their shoulders bump, an invitation for Jimin to rest herself on Minjeong's warm body instead of the cold mirrors.
Because Jimin needs her, accepts the offer, dropping her head with a sigh.
That's why Minjeong stays.
"I'm sorry if I was too harsh today." Jimin sinks further into Minjeong, almost deflating against the shorter girl. "I'm just really stressed about the tour, the comeback…about everything, to be honest."
Minjeong gets it, she really does. "We all understand, but you know you can talk to us, right? Instead of taking it out on us during practice?" It's tongue in cheek, and Jimin recognises it instantly.
"How bad was I?" Jimin groans. "Like, on a scale between you when someone messes up your drink order and a military drill sergeant?"
Minjeong stifles a giggle. "I'd rate you 'the one manager we had during trainee years that got fired after a week.'" She's not entirely serious because that man was truly horrible, but Minjeong would never pass up an opportunity to jab Jimin in the ribs, even in moments like these.
Jimin practically melts into a puddle, held together by Minjeong's arms. "I'm sorry!" she whines.
Minjeong pats her head affectionately, letting the atmosphere enveloping the two of them thicken. "really, it's okay–but you need to learn how to come to us, you know?" the room narrows down to just the two of them, everything else fading into the background. "you carry all of our worries on your back as well as your own, it's okay to unload some of it on us, especially me." a light flickers, humming above the two of them, the air impossibly still, filled with their soft breathing. "you've pulled me back up every time i've fallen over the last seven years." Minjeong can't even believe it's been that long, as she says, yet at the same time, she can't really remember how she lived before Jimin entered her life. "Take my hand when I offer it to you."
Jimin doesn't say anything for a minute or two, so Minjeong leans back a little, eyes wide in concern. She realises that Jimin is crying; wet tracks down reddened cheeks, soft sniffles echoing in the room. Her heart does a million different things at once. clenches. breaks. aches. splits almost entirely in two. "You've never let me see you cry before," Minjeong whispers, bringing an arm around Jimin's back, holding her closer.
Jimin snorts, and really, the sound should be disgusting given the state of her, but Minjeong finds it endearing. "I presumed you were offering your hand."
"I'm so glad you finally noticed." Minjeong squeezes her shoulder.
Jimin shuffles against her, wipes her own tears away with the back of her hand, grinning like a fool. Minjeong can tell a line is brewing in her brain, and she wishes she could understand just what goes on in there, because she doesn't quite understand the line when it comes.
"Can I offer you something? something that I've been waiting for you to notice is already yours?"
Minjeong tilts her head, a question primed on the tip of her tongue. Only, it never comes, swallowed by Jimin's soft, red lips pressing against her own. It's tentative, caring in its gentle exploration of the other for the first time–clumsy, yes, but smooth as they glide against each other, shaky hands taking purchase in whatever piece of clothing is closest.
"My heart," Jimin breaks the kiss to say.
Minjeong whines, flushed, Jimin sticking to her lips like gloss, and shoves her hard in the shoulder. still, she doesn't stray far, never can do when it comes to Jimin, and Jimin always finds her, knocking their foreheads together, breathy giggles fanning each other's faces.
"I'm so glad I kissed you in the one practice room without security cameras."
They talk about it on the way home. What it means and what it doesn't, feelings that were supposed to pass with the wind but stuck around like the sun, questions with no answers. It's a lot, and it isn't enough at the same time, but they'll make it work; they always do.
Jimin does, however, confess in the early hours of the morning, splayed out on Minjeong's bed like it's her own, that she had very, very different plans for how this was all supposed to go. chocolates and flowers, love and adoration–not now, she's not really sure when, if she's honest.
They both decide that today was perfectly fitting for the two of them, anyway.
02/14/2024
The year in between had been different, to say the least. It's much of the same, but on a significantly larger scale, because while they've not been popular, they've finally earned the respect and liking of the general public with their last two mini-albums. It's simultaneously a weight knocked off their shoulders while anchors are tied to their ankles, shoved straight into the deep end.
Because this now means expectations. Minjeong thinks they'll exceed them, to be honest. They've got a full album coming up, a pre-release before, and a Japanese debut afterwards. Time moves forward, the world keeps on spinning, and some things just stay the same. They'll deal with the reactions, good or bad, but Minjeong has an inkling these releases will be well-received.
It's scary just how right she turns out to be.
Regardless, she promised herself that she wouldn't think about those things today. This Valentine's Day, she's on a mission, and she won't get sidetracked with doubt.
This Valentine's Day, she is trying very hard to make breakfast.
Trying is the operative word here. She's on her fourth attempt at the stupid fucking egg, because the previous three had been overcooked, and she's straight up burned all the spam, so she's currently raking through her cupboard while the fourth egg fries.
God, forgive her for wanting to be a good girlfriend by trying to serve her breakfast in bed. She can't find another can of Spam. Minjeong thinks about screaming, but it's a miracle she was able to slip out of Jimin's hold, ever clingy, without waking her this morning. Minjeong watches the egg like a hawk and wonders if it's too late to order something and just tell Jimin she made it herself. Are any restaurants even open at 5:45 in the morning?
Strong arms slip around Minjeong's waist from behind, which would've made Minjeong jump out of her skin if this whole thing wasn't supposed to be a surprise. Besides, it's a little hard to be terrified when Jimin's voice rumbles immediately in her ear, soothing like distant thunder.
"Good morning, baby," Jimin husks, her voice thick and hoarse from sleep as her scent envelopes Minjeong much like her frame. It's immediately comforting, softening the blow just a little, but Minjeong's still pretty annoyed. Why did she find it so difficult to make kimchi fried rice this morning?
And really, if it were any other morning, Minjeong would spin around and press the taller woman against another counter. "Close your eyes and go back to bed." It's supposed to be an order, a command, but Jimin can practically hear Minjeong's pout, and that takes away any menacing aspect of it.
"And miss you mess up probably the simplest dish? Never," Jimin teases, pressing a chaste kiss to Minjeong's forehead. "Very sweet of you, though."
Minjeong wonders how angry their management would be if she threw an egg at Jimin's head. "I tried," she sighs, leaning back against Jimin's front, relaxing in the hold.
Jimin hums. "I know, baby," she coos, squeezing Minjeong's waist subtly. "I ordered breakfast about twenty minutes ago."
"How long have you been awake?" Minjeong groans.
"Since whenever you dropped an egg, stepped on it, and fell over. or, at least, I think that's what I heard."
Minjeong flushes from the inside out.
While they wait for breakfast, they decide to do their gift exchange. They kept it relatively light this year; chocolates, a couple phone case sets that can be passed off as friendly on camera, and some smaller, less expensive pieces of jewellery, like they don't get enough of that through sponsorships.
It's casual and sweet, threaded with intimacy as Jimin feeds Minjeong a bite of rice once the food arrives, their ankles locked together beneath the table. It's as close to a normal couple either of them can ever really feel when they sneak in a movie, cuddled up on the couch, kissing through filler scenes, before it all gets stripped away from them.
Minjeong and Jimin, who'll say as such during the ride to their schedule, just wish it could last longer.
their love, confined to stolen mornings under the guise of making it easier to attend schedules together, since they're not supposed to be living together anymore. their love, held safe by the four walls of Minjeong's apartment, with attempts made so that only a little of it can slip underneath the door and into the world. their love, entirely theirs, until a camera is pointed at them, and suddenly everyone else gets to weigh in, and it's not theirs anymore, not at all. It's someone else's fantasy or pipe dream, it's someone else's comments or opinions, it's twisted and distorted, so the truth of early mornings in each other's arms is hidden underneath the rug.
It's better that way; they both know it, but neither will deny the sting of the bite.
It hurts more on days like this, days when they're supposed to be able to celebrate their relationship and how much they love each other. Instead, they're sentenced to spending the rest of Valentine's day on opposite ends of the same room, close enough to see, with too many eyes on them to touch.
In short, it's neither of their favourite Valentines, even with what they were able to hold in their palms. But, hey, when they're going to be together until time takes them from each other, they can afford a few losses. It makes the wins so much firmer against their fingers, kisses so much sweeter when their lips can finally meet.
02/14/2025
Minjeong spends a lot of the time between Valentines looking back, how far they've all come, how much further they all have to go. They're coming up to five years as a group, nine years with Jimin as a person, two years with her as her girlfriend. It all makes her feel a little bit giddy, if she's honest, the love from fans growing with each day, her love for Jimin deepening with every second they spend together.
She thinks about what she's lost. Trainees who couldn't stand on stage with her. Years of youth stolen from her before she could realise just how much she needed them. Friends and family that she should call more. She thinks about what she's gained. bonds with three people who've become her family that not even the sharpest knife could sever. awards that she'll pretend mean nothing when they're nominated, so she isn't full of false hope, and will cry once they receive them. Fans who see and love almost all of her, even if it's just a persona developed by a pr team before she was old enough to fully understand what that meant.
It's all been a bit of a rollercoaster, but Minjeong knows now that it's everything she dreamt of and more, even with the losses.
Speaking of losses, here comes Valentine's Day once again, and this time, it's almost monumentally bad.
They spend most of it on a fucking plane, because they're touring. again. But it's longer, with bigger venues to fill out. After getting the first one done, Minjeong had been itching to go again, if she was honest, but god, is she tired today.
"Wanna watch another movie?" Jimin asked, fighting against pressure-filled ears and the jet engines of the aircraft.
Minjeong hears her, somehow, maybe because she's nestled into Jimin's side like she'd die if they were separated. It's a long flight, not the longest they've ever been on, thank god, because Minjeong isn't sure she'd be able to take it. "I just wanna sleep," Minjeong says, gripping Jimin's fingers tighter underneath the blanket.
"I know, sweetheart." Jimin's voice comes as a silky smooth coo, almost as coaxing as a lullaby–Minjeong just wishes it would work. "Maybe we can do a comfort one from your childhood, and that can hopefully help?" Jimin suggests, tracing an unknown pattern with her thumb.
Minjeong nods, pressing herself closer to Jimin, searching for more of her perfume. "I think I just need you." If Minjeong's eyes were open, she would've seen Jimin close to tears, biting back a warm smile.
Jimin puts the movie on, anyway. "I promise that this will help."
"I trust you," Minjeong sighs sleepily, seatbelt long forgotten in favour of being as close as possible. The stupid plane is stopping Minjeong from cuddling her girlfriend for comfort; the divider is almost painful as it presses against her skin. Soon enough, Jimin's words ring true, and Minjeong can catch a few hours of restless sleep, Jimin's fingers carding through her hair like she's something precious, holding her close against her chest.
When Minjeong wakes, eyes blinking open under the harsh lighting, she finds a rather sheepish Jimin holding a few plates of food. "I didn't mean to wake you," Jimin says, immediately apologetic, but Minjeong simply yawns and waves her off.
"What did you get?"
Jimin blushes, holding the plates hostage. "Everything you liked."
As it turns out, Jimin was not exactly exaggerating. She places it down, Minjeong's mouth watering and stomach rumbling even for plane food, since it's not that great even in business class. There are still a few more hours left on their flight, so Minjeong gives up on sleep and lets Jimin put on another movie.
It's action, Jimin's pick, and Minjeong thinks she can stomach it if Jimin just keeps on feeding her. It's not the most glamorous of Valentine's days, but Minjeong thinks it ends up being quite cute, in the end, especially when Jimin sneaks in a sweet kiss disguised as wiping some chocolate muffin crumbs off Minjeong's lips.
When they arrive at their hotel, they both fall asleep in the clothes they wore on the plane, gross, they know, but they're both just that tired. Suitcases aren't bothered to be unpacked, makeup sticks to their faces like glue the following morning, mascara smudged like they'd been crying, but being tired is a pretty good excuse for 'accidentally' falling asleep in the same hotel room.
Not their best Valentine's, they'll both agree.
2/14/2026
They've been talking about it all morning, holding each other in a very nice, very fancy hotel in Thailand–the ghost of Valentine's past. Minjeongs cried a few times already, and Jimin kissed each tear away. They've been pressed together as if they are the other's second skin for hours now, sacrificing sleep just to get this time together.
They initially set out to just recount the memories, but Jimin keeps interjecting with a ranking system Minjeong wants nothing to do with. Jimin had ranked 2018 as her favourite, a young Minjeong blushing as she crushed the life out of a candy bar still fresh in her mind, much to Minjeong's chagrin.
Quit it!" Minjeong shrieks as Jimin tickles her, solely trying to convince her to rank 2025 Valentines at number ten. "We haven't even finished this year yet, and it sucks so far!" She wriggles out of Jimin's hold, sending her daggers from across the bed.
Jimin holds her hands out in surrender. "Fine, what would you rank last?"
Minjeong huffs. "None of them!" Then, her expression softens, a small smile tugging at her lips. "They were all amazing because I spent them with you." It's sappy and cheesy, yes, something pulled straight out of Jimin's book and thrown back in her face, but it's how Minjeong really feels. Even when she was embarrassed in 2018, it was a good day; even when she was fighting for her life on the plane last year, it was still a good day.
All because Jimin made them so.
Jimin rolls her eyes, even with a blush coating her cheeks. "I'm rubbing off on you."
"Not from over there, you're not," Minjeong pouts, ever the sulker, wide eyes pleading for Jimin's contact.
"You rolled away from me!" Jimin shrieks, still, Jimin obliges with Minjeong's wordless request, shuffling closer to the shorter girl, wrapping an arm around her waist and bringing her to her chest.
Maybe they're being a little bit too loud for this early in the morning, but mornings are their time together, and they're determined to wring every minute out of them, every single day. This Valentine's, after they 'lounge' in bed, they have a joint concert. Minjeong's pretty happy with the outcome, getting to perform with Jimin by her side, getting to have a morning like this wrapped in each other's body heat and anonymity, but there's a part of her that feels a little stuck.
Minjeong is sulking, again, just a little bit. I can't believe we don't get to go on a date this year, either."
Jimin threads her fingers through Minjeong's hair, trying to soothe her. She knows that Minjeong feels a little more strongly about this than she does–for Jimin, any day spent with Minjeong is good enough, even when it's just limited to dragging her into a supply closet for a few minutes of contact. "Does Lotte World not count?" Jimin, bless her sweet heart, tries.
"Why the fuck would Lotte World count?" Minjeong growls, the sound rumbling through Jimin's chest and straight into her soul.
She fucked up; she tries to save it. "It was a date we went on recently," Jimin says carefully.
"It was the date we went on in January." Minjeong corrects.
Jimin takes a second to think, a soft sigh leaving parted lips. She rubs reassuring circles into Minjeong's waist, the bare skin rippling with goosebumps underneath her touch. "We have busy lives; it can count if we want it to."
Minjeong blinks, a little taken aback. "Yeah," she breathes, craning her head to press a kiss to the side of Jimin's neck, and feels the pulse jump underneath her lips. "You're right."
"I hate that we fly back straight after the concert, though," Jimin admits. "I really wanted to take you swimming again."
As the sun starts to peek through the blinds, holding the pair softly in its rays, they lose themselves in each other. eyes meeting, feverish skin brushing underneath silk sheets, their connection true and whole in these mornings.
Eventually, duty calls, and the pair drag themselves out of bed, roaming hands and lingering lips causing them to take slightly longer than usual to get ready. None of the stylists comments on their equally messy hair when they arrive, so they'll take it as a win. Their performances go seamlessly, as they generally do, and they try not to spend the encore completely all over each other, as much as they want to.
They kind of fail; several interactions were taken from them and posted online. Minjeong showing Jimin the fireworks, and Jimin grabbing at her stomach. It's stopped bothering Minjeong as much lately. It creates an archive of them, she's realised, moments she never knew were captured, immortalised for her to watch when Jimin's away on a solo schedule, memories she can relive in technicolour when the ache becomes too much to deal with alone.
She gets to trace Jimin's face with her fingertips when the camera catches her staring at Minjeong, Minjeong herself looking away, unaware of the love swimming in Jimin's eyes.
She gets the phantom sensation of Jimin's hands on her skin, always gentle, always soft, when she sees a video of Jimin holding her waist. She gets to feel all the love bursting in her heart, like a fresh spring, when she watches them together, fluid on stage, shining for the world and each other, like they were always destined to.
On days like this, Minjeong is so, so glad she hung on.
"Can you believe it's our tenth Valentine's Day together?" Jimin hums as she throws a hoodie over her head. They're packing up the last of their things from the hotel, already leaving Thailand to head back to Seoul.
Minjeong pauses as she counts, a blush adorning her cheeks as she chuckles, zipping up her suitcase. "Honestly? Yes," Minjeong answers, walking across the room and falling into Jimin's arms like it's one of their choreographies they've practised a million times. "I can't believe I ever had one without you."
"I can't wait for our eleventh then, my forever Valentine."
02/14/2027
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