Anna opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, her mind replaying Serena's memories like scenes from a movie.
After crying all night, she felt too exhausted to mourn again. She had spent hours talking about Serena with Jimin, and he had done his best to comfort her. That must be why she hadn't noticed when sleep overtook her, leaving her curled up on the living room couch.
The fresh scent of water lilies filled her nose, momentarily erasing the pain of the previous night. She inhaled deeply, letting the sweet fragrance envelop her. Her cheeks flushed when she realized she had been hugging Jimin's blazer in her sleep.
Anna sat up, pushing her hair back and clearing her throat. Her gaze drifted to the kitchen, where Jimin stood at the counter, brewing coffee.
Outside, the pale glow of dawn painted the sky in soft blues and pinks. The streetlights flickered weakly as the sun rose higher. Early birds chirped in the trees, their songs sharp and clear in the quiet morning air. Dew clung to the grass, sparkling like tiny diamonds under the first light.
A cool breeze drifted through the open window, carrying the earthy scent of morning. Anna breathed it in, the last traces of sleep leaving her. In the distance, a car engine hummed to life—the first sign of the waking world. But inside, the house remained peaceful, filled with the warm aroma of coffee and the gentle sounds of Jimin moving around the kitchen.
She watched him for a moment—his careful hands, the way his silver hair fell slightly over his forehead. Steam curled from his cup as he took a slow sip. He glanced up, catching her gaze, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a quiet, knowing smile.
Anna quickly looked away, her fingers tightening around the blazer in her lap. The morning felt fragile, as if moving too fast might shatter the moment. So she stayed still, listening to the world wake up outside, feeling the sun's warmth finally touch her skin.
"Good morning," Jimin greeted, his voice low and raspy. He poured coffee into another mug and reached for the sugar.
Anna stared at him for a beat too long before murmuring, "Morning." She rose from the couch and walked to the kitchen, tying her hair into a messy bun. "You must have been bored while I slept like a baby."
"It's alright. You weren't asleep for long," he replied. "How much sugar?" he asked, looking up at her.
Anna shivered, her heart pounding. The way Jimin looked at her—so full of passion—made her pain fade. The world around her blurred, and his presence soothed her. "Just a small spoon." She said.
"Would you stop staring and take your coffee?" Jimin teased, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he licked the spoon.
Anna blinked, embarrassed, and quickly grabbed the mug. When her fingers brushed against his, electricity shot through her.
Jimin's smile widened. The night had tested his patience. He had spent hours watching Anna sleep, her beauty striking him in a way he hadn't expected. Despite knowing he should control his desires, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Anna took a hesitant sip of coffee, the bitterness waking her up a little more. She glanced at Jimin again, noticing the tiredness in his eyes. "Did you sleep at all?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Not really. Too much on my mind."
Anna wanted to ask more but stayed quiet. Instead, she took another sip, savoring the quiet morning with him.
"I'm sorry, and thank you," she finally said, breaking the silence.
Jimin raised his brows. "For what?"
"For relying on you too much. And for everything you've done—the way you comforted me and stayed by my side." She tightened her grip on the mug, her fingers tracing its edge. "I don't know what I would've done without you," she admitted, her voice trembling.
Jimin didn't respond. Instead, he kept gazing at her as he set his mug down, as if steeling himself for something unexpected. Slowly, hesitantly, he stepped closer, making Anna's heartbeat race. One hand rested on the counter's edge, while the other gently traced her chin.
Anna's breath hitched as Jimin tilted her face up. His deep blue eyes locked onto hers, intense and searching. She knew she should pull away—Serena was gone, her father was in custody—but when his lips brushed against hers, soft and warm, she couldn't resist.
The kiss started slow, hesitant, as if both were testing the waters. But then Jimin's hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Anna melted into him, her fingers curling into his shirt as if he were her only anchor. The taste of coffee lingered between them—bitter and sweet, just like the emotions swirling inside her.
A sharp pang of guilt stabbed her heart. "Serena just died. How can I do this?" But the more she tried to pull back, the more Jimin's touch weakened her resolve. His lips moved against hers with quiet desperation, as if he, too, was fighting something he couldn't control.
When they finally broke apart, Anna's cheeks burned. She couldn't meet his eyes. Jimin exhaled shakily, his thumb tracing her jawline. Neither spoke. The air between them thickened with unspoken words—regret, longing, confusion.
Anna turned away first, gripping the counter's edge. Her heart pounded, torn between guilt and the undeniable pull she felt toward him.
Jimin stayed close, his presence warm and steady behind her. For the first time in so long, he had finally accepted his feelings. "I need to tell you something," he murmured, his voice low and gentle.
Sunlight streamed through the window, casting golden light over them. But the brightness did nothing to ease the heaviness in Anna's chest. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "It's not the right time, Jimin."
"Shh," he whispered in her ear. "Let me say this. I could barely hold back when you were asleep. I know it's wrong, but just this once—let's be wrong together." His words melted into her, and though Anna wanted to resist, she felt powerless against her own feelings.
Jimin moved closer until his warm breath brushed her skin. His hands trembled as they cupped her face. "I love you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much it hurts." His thumb brushed away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen. "I tried to stop myself, but I can't. Not when you're all I think about."
Anna kept her eyes shut tight. His words wrapped around her heart like burning vines—beautiful yet painful. She could feel his pulse racing where his fingers touched her jaw. The scent of his cologne mixed with coffee made her dizzy.
Every logical thought screamed at her to pull away. But when his forehead pressed against hers, she didn't move. Didn't breathe. His confession hung between them, raw and terrifying in its truth.
"Why are you doing this now?" Anna asked, opening her eyes. Tears traced down her cheeks. "Jimin, you know I can't do this. Not now." Her voice trembled as silent sobs shook her.
Jimin gently wiped her tears. "We'll get through this together," he promised, his eyes pleading. "I'll stay by your side."
Anna managed a faint smile. She wanted to stop herself but couldn't. After a long pause, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and Jimin pulled her into a warm embrace.
Anna's hands shook as she clung to him. His words—I love you—burned in her ears, terrifying her.
She pulled back just enough to see his face. Tears blurred her vision. "You can't say that," she whispered. "Not now. Not when..." Her voice cracked.
Jimin brushed her cheeks with his thumbs, catching her tears. "I know the timing is wrong," he admitted. "But I can't pretend anymore."
Anna's chest ached. Part of her wanted to run. The other part never wanted to let go.
"I'm scared," she confessed, her fingers twisting in his shirt. "What if this is just grief? What if we regret it later?"
Jimin didn't hesitate. "Then we'll face that together too."
A sob escaped her. For the first time since Serena's death, Anna allowed herself to want something—someone—for herself.
"I feel it too," she whispered, barely audible. "But I don't know if that's okay."
Jimin pressed his forehead to hers. "Let it be okay just for today," he murmured. "We don't have to figure everything out right now."
Anna closed her eyes. For one reckless moment, she stopped fighting. Her lips found his again—softer this time, less desperate. A promise, not an escape.
When they parted, she didn't pull away. She stayed in his arms, letting his heartbeat steady hers. The guilt still lingered at the edges of her mind, but for now, it was quiet.
"Just hold me," she whispered.
And he did.