P-R-O-M-I-S-E || vmin ff

Promise - 3

"Careful, Jiminie," Jin warned from across the room, balancing a stack of fabric in his arms. "We can't afford to lose our best dancer to a tragic fairy-light accident."

"I'm fine," Jimin huffed, tilting his head back as he struggled to clip the last light into place.

On the other side of the room, Taehyung sat cross-legged on the floor, a paintbrush tucked between his fingers as he focused on the poster in front of him. His hands moved with practiced ease, strokes blending colors together into something vibrant.

But his eyes kept drifting.

Jimin, still reaching, still stretching, his sweater rising just slightly to reveal a sliver of skin. His brows furrowed in concentration, lips pursed as he wobbled precariously on the tips of his toes.

Taehyung swallowed.

"Just focus on the poster."

But then it happened.

A sharp gasp, a flailing arm—Jimin's balance wavered, his feet slipping as he tilted backward, and before Taehyung even had time to think, he was moving.

The next second, Jimin was in his arms, pressed against his chest, breathless and wide-eyed. The scent of vanilla and something softly sweet lingered between them, and Taehyung had the sudden realization that Jimin fit perfectly against him, like a missing puzzle piece.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Jimin's hands clutched at Taehyung's shirt, fingers curling slightly as he blinked up at him. His lashes fluttered—too pretty, too delicate—and Taehyung felt his heart stutter in a way that had nothing to do with the near fall.

"You okay?" Taehyung asked, voice lower than usual.

Jimin nodded slowly, but he didn't step away. Neither did Taehyung.

Their eyes locked, something unspoken lingering in the space between them. The studio, the decorations, the soft hum of conversation around them—it all faded into the background.

And then, just as quickly, the moment broke.

Jimin cleared his throat, stepping back, though his fingers still lingered against Taehyung's wrist before finally falling away. "Thanks," he murmured, voice slightly breathless.

"Maybe take a break?" Taehyung suggested, trying to ignore the way his pulse still thrummed.

"I'm fine—"

"Nope." Taehyung reached out, gently pushing Jimin toward the nearest chair. "Break. Five minutes. Doctor's orders."

Jimin pouted but let himself be guided, plopping down onto the seat with a small huff. Taehyung watched him, a small smile tugging at his lips.

And when Jimin looked up at him again—eyes warm, lips still parted—Taehyung felt it.

Something shifting.

Something new.

Something dangerously close to more.

All in all, everything seemed to be going well—until recently.

The day had started just like any other. The usual routine of grabbing breakfast with Jin and Hoseok, playful bickering over who got the last piece of toast, and then heading off to their respective classes. Then, as always, Jimin had waited outside Taehyung's (hellish) calculus lecture, leaning against the wall with that easy, radiant smile of his, like he wasn't carrying the weight of dance rehearsals and coursework on his shoulders. It was a routine now, an unspoken part of their day—meeting up after class, walking to lunch together, slipping into conversation as naturally as breathing.