Baby Steps and Broken Memories

Jimin’s heart was still racing long after Yoongi left the studio. He stood in the middle of the room, eyes unfocused as he replayed their conversation over and over in his head.

“I’m not going anywhere this time.”

It felt surreal, hearing Yoongi’s voice filled with such sincerity. For so long, he had convinced himself that he would never hear those words—that Yoongi had truly closed the door on their relationship forever. And yet, here he was, standing on the precipice of something new… or something old, barely held together by fragments of broken memories.

Jimin sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. Could he really do this? Could he open himself up again? The wounds were still there, even if they weren’t as fresh as they once were.

But Yoongi had looked so *different*—so raw, so genuine. Jimin had seen the weight of regret in his eyes, the kind of regret that couldn’t be faked. It stirred something inside him, something he had tried to bury beneath layers of resentment and self-preservation.

Still, he wasn’t ready to fully trust again. Not yet.

---

The next few days passed slowly, with Jimin keeping to his routine as best he could. Rehearsals, performances, late-night choreography sessions—anything to keep his mind occupied. But no matter how much he distracted himself, his thoughts would always circle back to Yoongi. The conversation replayed in his head like a broken record, but he wasn’t sure how to feel about it yet.

Yoongi, true to his word, didn’t push. He hadn’t tried to call or text since their meeting at the studio, and Jimin was grateful for the space. It gave him time to think, to process everything that had happened between them.

Late one night, after a grueling rehearsal, Jimin found himself lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The exhaustion from the day hadn’t dulled the memories that always seemed to surface when the world was quiet.

His thoughts drifted back, as they often did, to the early days with Yoongi—before the hurt, before the pain.

---

**Five years ago…**

Jimin had always loved the way Yoongi smiled when he wasn’t trying to be serious. That small, almost shy curve of his lips, as if he couldn’t help it. Back then, it had been one of the things that drew Jimin in.

They were tangled together on Yoongi’s bed, limbs intertwined after a long day of work and recording. The scent of Yoongi’s cologne and studio sweat still clung to his clothes, but Jimin didn’t mind. In fact, he found it comforting, the warmth of Yoongi’s skin and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath Jimin’s cheek.

“I could get used to this,” Yoongi murmured, his voice soft and deep, his fingers lazily tracing circles along Jimin’s back.

Jimin smiled against Yoongi’s chest, closing his eyes and letting the warmth of the moment wrap around him like a blanket. “You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time.”

Jimin chuckled, shifting slightly to look up at Yoongi. His gaze was half-lidded with exhaustion, but there was a softness in his eyes that Jimin had fallen in love with long ago.

“Do you?” Jimin teased, though his voice was tender.

Yoongi’s smile widened, that rare, genuine grin that Jimin treasured more than anything. “Yeah. I do.”

For a moment, everything was perfect. Jimin had Yoongi, and Yoongi had him, and the world outside didn’t matter. They fit together like puzzle pieces, seamlessly intertwined. It was the kind of love Jimin had always dreamed of—steady, strong, and full of quiet moments like this.

“I love you,” Yoongi whispered, so soft Jimin almost missed it.

Jimin’s heart fluttered in his chest, the familiar warmth spreading through him. “I love you too.”

In those days, their love had been so easy. So effortless. Or at least it felt that way, back when they still believed they could overcome anything.

---

**Present Day…**

Jimin blinked, the memory fading like a dream. His chest ached, the weight of nostalgia settling heavily over him. He had forgotten how much he missed those quiet moments, the way Yoongi had made him feel like he was the only person in the world who mattered.

But that was before everything changed—before Yoongi had shut him out and walked away.

Jimin rolled onto his side, pulling his knees to his chest as he stared out the window. Could they ever get back to that place? Or was it too late?

---

A week later, Jimin found himself at the café where he and Yoongi had agreed to meet again. It was a small place, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, far from the eyes of fans or anyone who might recognize them. The same café where they used to meet when their schedules got too busy.

Jimin arrived early, sipping his tea and nervously checking the time on his phone. He had told himself this was just a step. A small step. Baby steps. It didn’t mean he was forgiving Yoongi completely—it just meant he was willing to talk. To see where things could go.

When the door opened, and Yoongi stepped in, Jimin felt a familiar flutter in his chest. Yoongi hadn’t changed much, still favoring his dark clothes and a cap pulled low over his eyes. But as soon as he saw Jimin, his expression softened, and Jimin felt something inside him ease.

Yoongi walked over to the table, hesitating slightly before sitting down across from him. For a moment, neither of them spoke, just letting the silence fill the space between them.

“How have you been?” Yoongi asked, his voice quiet but steady.

Jimin shrugged, stirring his tea absentmindedly. “Busy. Same as always.”

Yoongi nodded, and for a second, they both fell into the familiarity of it—talking about work, rehearsals, the projects they were both drowning in. It was safe territory, and for now, that was enough.

After a while, though, the conversation slowed, and the heavier topic loomed between them.

Jimin set his cup down, meeting Yoongi’s eyes. “So… about what you said before.”

Yoongi’s shoulders tensed slightly, but he didn’t look away. “Yeah.”

Jimin took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been thinking about it. About what you said… and about us.”

Yoongi waited, watching him with a guarded expression. “And?”

“I don’t know if I can go back to the way things were,” Jimin admitted, his voice soft but firm. “But… maybe we can try again. Slowly. Baby steps.”

For a moment, Yoongi didn’t respond, and Jimin’s heart raced in the silence. But then Yoongi’s face softened, and he gave a small, almost relieved smile.

“I can do that,” Yoongi said quietly, his voice carrying a tenderness that Jimin hadn’t heard in years. “Baby steps.”

Jimin nodded, feeling a tiny spark of hope in his chest. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And for now, that was enough.

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