Archive of Our Own

“Fold your arms round me close and strain me so that our hearts may break and our souls go free at last. Take me to that happy place of which you told me long ago. The fields whence none return, but where great singers sing their songs forever.”

- Joseph Bédier

A rumble erupted somewhere in the deepest corner of his chest.

His heart thumped. It hadn’t drummed a single beat since millennia ago.

There was only a chasm, a cavity long turned rotten where a heart once sat; it had been empty for centuries. Now, a roll of thunder filled the blackened sky of his soul; a sound so loud it stirred and shook the entirety of his being.

A night with no moon nor stars. He was void of emotions, and yet now a feeling lingered on his tongue and he thirsted for it.

The birth of evil within his core was fixed. The one he despised, that foretold of his fall. He had been reborn with the burning ache for sin. He had been resurrected by the most immoral of his kind, and since then he had not been touched by the warm radiance of light.

By forfeiting his place in Paradise, Hell swallowed his very being the moment he descended.

But this? A beat, emanating heavily from the core of his chest? His once hallowed soul suddenly felt as if it were being filled slightly, and with... Love, could it be? A feeling long forgotten to the point he could hardly recognise it. He lusted for it, like blood filtering through the gills of a starved shark. A distant memory trickled through the cracks of his mind, finding its way back and fullness began to bud in his soul, which he longed for deeply. A love so pure that his heart would be ripe, fit to burst. A love like the one he once vied for against the humans. Now he had caught the scent of something close to desire but far more pure. He had finally found the scent of what he wanted the most and it pained him as a hunger for this love began to grow inside him.

He peered out of the shadows, from where he was tucked behind one of the pillars along the aisle, to make out a figure.

It ’s them . What we once were . The angels. We hate them .

They glowed with glory and elegance. Their wings were crafted with such perfection that God himself smoothened their feathers by his own hands. It was a sight the demon had once seen a distant time ago. The angel was everything that he was not. He was supposed to feel hate towards it, but he didn’t. His heart continued to beat. The dried fruit of his being once filled with life, had been touched again with light. The feeling was so new. He craved more of it, more than he thought he could handle. But how could he, an abomination born from filth, be graced by such a gentle fruit of God?

“You’re not supposed to be here, demon. Begone.” the angel said. Its wings stiffened at the presence of the tainted pawn. He watched as the demon slowly made steps toward him, its’ dirt-covered, bare feet pressing against the cold white marbles. Every nerve in his celestial body screams at the idea of such a vulgar being dare make their presence within a sanctum of sacrosanctity.  

“I can’t.”

“Why is that?” the angel voiced his curiosity, but still a little irked by the demon’s presence. He had never come up against one that spoke up so boldly in the house of God, but he wasn’t surprised. He had heard stories, but this was his first encounter with their kind.

“I am taking shelter from the sun.” the demon replied, eyes darkened with malice yet reflective of the sliver of light peering in through the stained glass windows. “So I hid in your little church till night fell.”

“Well? Night has fallen. You can leave now.”

The demon let out a soft chuckle while keeping himself hidden within the shadows. “But now, I want to get to know you.”

The angel’s eyes grew large, surprised by the demon’s words. “You know we can’t be seen together. It’s… unnatural.”

“Unnatural? I find it to be more unnatural that you’re spending your time in such a measly church, angel. I’m curious,” his words meant to entice the angel, but the being clothed in white kept his wings against the demon like a shield.

“I’m doing my duty as a servant of God. That is none of your concern,” the angel defended, his fingers against the table.

“As a servant of God, you’d rather stay indoors and fix an altar for these humans ?” The demon snorted at his mention of them.  “Why don’t you go out there in the night sky? It’s beautiful at this time. Watch your humans out there.”

The angel kept his back on the relentless demon. His lack of response didn’t seem to hinder the demon’s attempts.

A grin full of malice formed its’ way on the demon’s red lips. “Speaking of God, He is nowhere to be found... He claims to be everywhere, but where is He now?”

The angel scoffed. “Father has better things to busy Himself with, rather than dealing with such small disturbances.”

“I’m a disturbance now?” His smirk only creeped across his mouth, seemingly permanent on his face.

“Yes. Now, please. Leave,” said the angel, who’s voice echoed harmoniously in the empty church.

He turned his back on the devil and faced the front, towards the altar. The grandeur of a table was adorned with an abundance of flowers and a silk cloth that covered every inch of its’ surface. Clean and polished, just like the angel.

“Is that your doing?” The devil’s voice lingered into the angel’s ears, almost sinful to even listen to. “Those flowers are beautiful... like you.” He can hear the playful tone of the way he spoke to him. He wished his brother Michael would cut this devil’s tongue and cease his dangerous words from escaping those vile lips.

“Would you like to tell me your name, beautiful?” The devil slivered his way behind his back, sitting one pew away from him.

The angel, poised and patient, tried to maintain his composure. This was truly a test from God. He mustn’t allow the demon to have his way.

You are much stronger than this. You are no human, tempted by sin , he tells himself.

He continued to chant his Father’s words in his mind, like a mantra playing on a broken loop.

“I was born with the name Taehyung,” his voice lingered, waiting for the angel to respond.

“I know.” Taehyung

“Now tell me yours.”

And like a snake, the demon was suddenly at a close proximity to the angel as his hot breath touched the skin of his petite ear. He whispers, closely, “I want to hear your voice again. Just one more time. And  I promise I will leave.”

Don’t let him make a promise with you. He’s going to leave a mark and never leave you alone .

“Yoongi.” He waited till he no longer felt the warmth on his skin; till the the tightness of the demon’s tail loosened on his body. He had gone, but somehow Yoongi still felt his tail coiling around his body. He breathed a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped down. “My name is Yoongi.”

-

The next time the demon came back to see Yoongi, he came bearing a gift. A red rose held by both his hands.

“A rose?”

“Yes,” the demon, named Taehyung, responded as his eyes gleamed with anticipation. He offered the flower toward Yoongi, who watched him with wary eyes.

“You are one persistent demon.”

He gave the angel a mischievous smile in return.“And you are one stubborn angel.”

“Not all angels fall for the devil’s seduction. I’m not one to fall so easily for tricks… and such declarations!” Flustered, the angel continued to busy himself with redecorating the altar for the third time that day. He never seemed satisfied with how he fixed the altar, no matter how many times he rearranged his flowers. The church-goers never seemed to notice.

“Is that so? I suppose that I have to try harder, then.” And he was gone.

When Yoongi finally turned around, he found the rose on the floor. He did not keep it, nor did he dispose of it.

-

Taehyung returned to find the rose on the altar. He smiled at the thought of Yoongi’s skin softly grazing against the thorns of the stem, his fingers wrapping around the very body of the flower and his lips gently pressing against the petals before placing it on the cold altar table. The demon’s lips curved into a smirk.

The angel broke the silence. “It’s rude to dispose of gifts.”

“Even ones from demons? Some people would say our gifts to others are like curses.”

“Hmph.”

“Is that all you could say, my divine one?” Yoongi raised his eyebrow at Taehyung, his words touching him like hot oil anointing his skin.

“I am not ‘your divine one.’ I could burn it, if I want to.”

“Why didn’t you?” The demon took a step closer toward Yoongi, who sat on the marble steps of the altar with his bare feet touching the cold stone.

“I’m not allowed to burn life...” the angel bit down on his bottom lip.

God, he looks so beautiful. Taehyung’s heels dug into the padding of his shoes, holding himself back from taking another inch off closer to the angel.

“Anyway...we angels don’t burn things like you demons.”

The demon sat on the second pew and slung his legs over the first, with his hands folded together as if in prayer. “Then, what do you do?”

Yoongi glares at the way the demon mocks. Of course, he’s a demon. I’d expect such manner from him.

“We heal.”

The demon stood at a distance from Yoongi. The light coming from the opened slide of the windows spilled a white line between them. If Taehyung took a step closer, his skin would burn.

“It’s a wonderful morning, isn’t it?” A bird perched on the sill of the church window, chirped a song as the demon stepped out of his shoes.

The angel did not expect what happened next.

As soon as the bird flew away from the window, the demon stood in the light as the sun scorched his skin brashly. The sizzle of his burning skin hissed as the demon brought himself to his knees.

The angel stood in horror as the creature in front of him slowly caught flame. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t let a demon die in the house of his Father!

“What’re you doing?!” The angel shouted.

“Aaa...ah! Making a p-point.” Despite the pain, the demon managed to send a smile to Yoongi, writhing at the immensity of the burns.

Taehyung’s figure fell to the floor, his flesh peeling from his bones and dark blood oozing from him, staining the ivory. His screams echoed around the empty church, like a dying beast being slaughtered at the hands of man.

“A-Angel. Aren’t you going to do something?” Taehyung said, looking up at the Yoongi’s unnerved expression.

The angel responded with, “Why should I?” his tone unbending.

“Because you said ‘we heal.’” The demon attempts to rise from his form, but doing so only pulls at the skin slowly melting off his arm, earning a groan of pain.

Yoongi looked at the demon, unsure if he should be helping someone like him. He was the enemy . Yoongi knew he shouldn’t be allowing this relationship to turn into something. The angel took in the possibilities that could happen with this situation if he decided to take action.

He couldn’t force him out, and the angel would be forced to abandon this church in order to avoid the demon. But his merciful heart stopped him from making such a decision because these people needed him . He couldn’t possibly abandon this church, especially during in these times of trouble.

Without sparing another thought, the angel moved in front of the sunlight and engulfed Taehyung in an embrace. Yoongi didn’t mind the blood staining his white tunic, and kept the demon in his arms.

He knew that he couldn’t heal the demon from his sins that created who he is now, but he hoped that his love for the humans would allow itself to heal the burns on his scarred skin. He watched as the wounds slowly faded from the demon’s skin at the single touch of his fingers, until bloomed pink flowers could no longer be found.

The angel heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

Looking over the demon’s face, he appeared to have fallen unconscious.

-

The moonlight poured into the church like milk, spilling over Taehyung’s now healed legs. The demon’s eyes slowly opened, facing the window of the night sky. The stars twinkled down over the Earth.

Taehyung sat up and found himself resting on the first pew. The church was almost empty, except for a small man kneeling in front of the altar’s steps. He seemed to be a priest, dressed in all black attire. The demon felt like he shouldn’t be there, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the kneeling man focused in prayer.

Usually he’d toy in the presence of humans but looking at man, he was fascinated. These humans are so devoted to Father, yet they don’t know of his cruelty. He had been cruel to Taehyung and his siblings. He never given them a chance.

The thought of Father only made Taehyung ball his fists, his nails digging into his skin. He walked closer to the man and thought about the tingling in the tips of his fingers. The sensation was telling him to push him, scare him, make him feel your presence .

“Taehyung.” Yoongi stood behind him.

The demon stopped himself from laying a finger on the man, who stood up from his position and made one last gesture towards the altar before leaving. He watched the man go until he closed the wooden door behind him.

“I wasn’t going to do anything to him,” the demon defended.

“I don’t believe you for a second.”

He could tell Yoongi was upset; the angel’s voice was deep and low. He never thought he’d feel that kind of animosity coming from an angel, an image of love and mercy.

“You’ve overstayed, demon. Leave.”

“Alright, I’ll leave,” Taehyung said with an assuring nod, but he sneaks a smirk as he snakes around the angel stood still trying to maintain his composure. “But I’ll come back, like I always do.”

And with that, the demon slipped away from the angel as his presence licked Yoongi’s very being. There was a pinprick on the angel’s wings as the demon’s shoulder brushed against him, like a sting from a fire ant.

This demon meant trouble. Yoongi’s clothes had been littered with burns when he cradled the demon in his arms. He’d changed out of his singed tunic but the wounds were under the white material. Pink blotches, once remnants of burns on Taehyung’s skin, were now on Yoongi’s. Little did the angel know that by healing Taehyung, he would be taking the demon’s wounds to his own body; unlike when he healed a human (on less rarer occasions), the wounds would immediately disappear.

This was the reason why angels and demons were not allowed to be together. They were once the same, and for angels to heal one only meant that they had to share the pain the demons felt.  

He let Taehyung share his pain. He let him in. And he knew Father would not be happy to see the scars. He might have already known.

-

Taehyung took some time from his usual visits for the angel and remained in his hellish cavern he called home. He rested against the ground as he looked up at the dark ceiling of his cave, thinking about how he could ever gain the angel’s trust.

First off, his devilish instincts were not the most trustworthy.

He couldn’t help it. The moment he felt any kind of desire for the angel, his words would twist their way out of his mouth.

Curse his demonic nature.

If he’d only push himself to be more gentle with the other, he’d be able to ease off the tension from the angel.

Maybe then he’d stop telling him to leave his church.

The demon chuckled at the thought of him going back and forth to a church for the past week, despite being kicked out numerous times by the angel.

A church! It was the last place he thought he’d ever find himself in.

A soft kick to his side pulled him out of his reveries, and a shadow hovered over his figure. It was Jimin, his friend who had been there since they first fell from the heavens.

“You’re thinking about that angel again, are you?” The demon crossed his arms, looking down on his friend. “You know you’re just going to cause trouble for both sides, right?” he continued.

Jimin never bothered anyone about their business because naturally, it was their business and it wasn’t his. He never meddled with anyone’s problems unless he was somehow involved. However, his best friend was interacting with an angel. For his kind, it was a bit of a big deal. It was a forbidden unity that cannot happen; like fire and ice.

“I know, Jimin. You don’t need to nag me.” Taehyung rolled to his side, avoiding his friend’s concerned expression imprinted on his face. “You being worried about me is unbecoming for a demon. Stop it, before you’re the one that gets sent into the void by Satan himself.”  

The void was the last frontier. Angels and fallen angels alike who didn’t pick any side, whether it be Satan nor God’s, were sent there. They had no purpose or value to anyone, so they were sent into the dark abyss for eternity.

“I’m only like that with you. Majority of the time, I’m just as sinful as everyone else in Hell.”

“If you say so,” Taehyung responded, “but let’s say you lose your horns, in exchange for a halo. What then?”

That earned Taehyung a flick to the ear by his friend.

“Don’t say such things!”

The younger demon only responded in a giggle which Jimin couldn’t resist to return the favor.  

“Hey Tae?”

“You don’t think that angel will...heal you?”

“Why do you think that?”

“Nothing,” Jimin hesitated before he continuing. “I just remembered when you became so desperate for Him to give you back your wings that you begged for days until the Prince brought you back to your senses.”

Taehyung stayed silent. He recalled the earlier days of darkness, after the fall when many of the fallen regretted their decision to descend under the Earth.

He had been one of them, but he was not as desperate as those who grated their horns against dead oak till they were only left with nubs.

It had taken several millennia until the Prince had full control of everyone and made sure to rid those demons who were deemed “weak.”  

“Be careful of your interactions with him.” Jimin crinkled his brows, face full of worry for his friend. “If anything, let him be tainted. It’s safer that way.”

Taint? How could I possibly spoil an angel rotten?

-

When he wasn’t in the angel’s presence, Taehyung found himself in a land of cold winds and frozen oceans. Nothing could ever live there except great beasts who wail into the night.

Those beasts were whales. Two whales, to be exact.

Ever since he met the angel, Taehyung had been watching the pair swim across icy waters.

The way the two whales sang to each other, professing their love to one another in their own tongues was so… beautiful. At least to Taehyung, it was. None of the demons back in hell would ever think so, not even Jimin.

Taehyung watched the two beasts rise to the surface, great flippers waving in the crisp Arctic air. A pang of heartbreak hit the demon in the chest as the whales slowly widened the distance from him, eventually sinking back into the dark ocean. He watched them recede until he could no longer see their backs.

He envied them. Their freedom to travel to different places, together. To escape to other lands without their past following them in the shadow, was all he wished he could ever have.

-

“So how’s that little human you’re taking care of?” Hoseok paused to think before he continued. “Jungkook, was it?”

He liked prodding into Yoongi’s business, only because he was intrigued by his friend’s misfortunes.

He found that Yoongi tended to deal with his duties in a tamed and cautious manner; however, they never ended according to plan.

“Jungkook’s fine. Still a brat, but nonetheless, fine.”

Hoseok noticed the way his friend’s eyes gaped down the idle clouds. He stood close to the edge of the kingdom; the genesis of all that is good and most importantly, their home. But despite being home, Yoongi was somewhere else.

“Then?” Yoongi had been so distant lately, Hoseok thinks. He knew when something was clouding his friend’s mind. “Is something else troubling you?”

Yoongi was hesitant about whether he should relay his concerns to his friend. Would he feel at ease if he were to tell someone?

“Listen,” he glanced around to make sure no one else was present. “Let’s just keep this between us, alright?”

Hoseok nodded diligently, sealing his lips with an imaginary zipper.

“Just to get this clear, Jungkook didn’t make his mom cry again, right? Because I swear that boy-” Yoongi interrupted Hoseok before he could proceed with his frustrations. The younger angel was much more Jungkook’s guardian than Yoongi, expressing his concerns quite often about the boy.

“No, no. It’s not about Jungkook,” Yoongi sighed. He wished his troubles were about the young mortal. “There’s an... intruder, I should say, in Jungkook’s local church. And well-”

“Has Jungkook been tainted? Possessed? Oh Lord, God, the Father!” Hoseok was close to losing his mind, which annoyed Yoongi. “What did the poor boy do?!”

The older grabbed Hoseok’s shoulder, looking right through his eyes.

“NO!” Another sigh left Yoongi’s mouth. It was probably the thirtieth one today. “Would you let me finish, Hoseok?”

“Sorry. Go on.” Hoseok returned his attention toward his friend.

“There has been… a demon. Visiting me.” Yoongi watches as his friend eyes slowly, and surely, widen at the mention of demon as the realization seeps in. “He’s been, uh… hiding in the church at night to see me. I don’t understand why he’s so interested in getting to know me, but that was always his excuse for the visit.”

“Don’t trust him.”

“I don’t.”

“Have you made any physical contact with it?” Hoseok’s expression was serious, but his eyes were reeking with concern.

“No,” he lied, the wounds festering under his tunic. “Of course not.”

“He’ll eventually lose interest if you pay him no mind.” The air suddenly felt thin, as the effect of his friend’s words made him feel like he was being pulled down the ocean floor.

“If it gets worse, call for me. You can’t deal with this alone.” This time the younger angel placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Please, Yoongi.”

-

The empty church howled as the wind slipped through the windows. Yoongi sat alone in the pews furthest from the altar. He waited in the darkness, away from the flickering candles and closest to the back where the entrance was a big wooden door.

“Angel.” He recognized the familiar whisper, as it tickled Yoongi’s skin.

He looked behind him to find no one, prompting him to search his surroundings. Nothing.

He’s playing tricks on me. I knew I couldn’t let my guard down ...

“You won’t find me, angel. I’m not in your church.” The voice seemed to be close, but he felt no presence. Not even the usual alluring natural musk of Taehyung could be detected.

“Then, where are you?”

He heard a soft chuckle. “Where do you think?” Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the faint cries of the damned.

“I suspected it had something to do with the time you healed me,” the demon said, which sparked the memory back into his mind. “We’re somehow connected.”

“Your wounds,” Yoongi interjects immediately. “They’re on me. The transferral acts similarly to a seal that binds us together.”

“Oh.” Taehyung went silent. Yoongi couldn’t hear anything but the howling of the wind, suspecting the other had gone.

Then the demon broke the silence. “This ability… it’s like, we’re speaking in a language of our own. No one else can hear or understand us.”

The demon’s heart was pulsating, slowly picking up its pace as the throbbing inside his rib cage increased.

“That was something only angels could have,” Yoongi had sunk back into his seat, eyes staring into blank space. “Father called it whalesong.”

“Technically, I still am an angel.”

“A fallen angel,” Yoongi’s voice straightened. “A traitor.”

“But nonetheless, an angel.”

“We call you demons, if you remember. We’re clearly different.” The angel was beginning to sound frustrated by Taehyung’s bold comparison. How dare he say they have similarities?

“If you say we are different, then how do you explain this whalesong then?” Taehyung’s question only irritated Yoongi; as if he had poked the angel with a stick like you would with a bear. Only Yoongi seemed to be holding his anger back as the demon continued to provoke him.

“Whalesong only happens with angels with a strong bond.”

“A strong bond?” The angel sneered. “What are you trying to say, demon?”

“Clearly, fate has brought us together. This is no mistake.”

“Fate is controlled by God, and the last thing he would do is bring one of his angels and his abandoned ill-bred son together,” Yoongi snorted at the thought.

“Say what you want, but we’ll see each other again.”

-

“You’re quite arrogant, aren’t you? You really think this is all because of fate.” The angel sat on the far edge of the pew, keeping his distance from Taehyung.

“Fate is free-flowing. I don’t believe it’s controlled. I live like fate, floating wherever it takes me.”

“Must be nice.” Yoongi’s words were for Taehyung but his eyes had fallen to the ground, his thoughts somewhere else. “Does Luci-I mean, uh—your prince, have you do anything? You know, other than wreaking havoc on the lives of humans?”

“Like a will?”

“Yes. Something similar, I suppose.”

Taehyung was taken aback by the angel’s sudden interest in him, but decided to answer. “No. Nothing in particular.”

The demon refrained from making any eye contact with Yoongi, but from the corner of his vision he could see that the angel was focused on him.

“He told us to spend our eternal free will however we please, as long as we remain loyal to him—and only him.”

He could sense the angel’s focus had moved from him, seeing as he shifted to face forward.

A soft chuckle escaped from the angel. “An angel with free will, huh?”

Taehyung only responded with a nod. He was quite surprised by the way their conversation was progressing, and to Taehyung, it was quite nice. He hadn’t found himself thinking something was nice for quite some time.

It was particularly good, he thought, that he was sitting not quite close to the angel and that they were sharing an exchange of words that was not especially hostile.

How unbecoming of you , Jimin would say. The thought of his friend returning those mocking words back to him made him cringe.

“You know...” Taehyung began. From the corner of his eye he could see he caught the angel’s attention once more.

“Hm?”

“Angels with free will… isn’t always good.”

“What do you know about ‘good?’”

“I was once good, you know—like you.”

Taehyung stared down at his hands, covered in dark ashes that sunk its way into the beds and crooks of his nails. He folded them, as he turned his towards the angel.

“I’ve seen their hate for these humans. They do things—things I’ve grown accustomed to. I used to enjoy the satisfaction that came with the agonizing pain my victims feel, but they’re nothing to me now. Lately, I feel like I’ve changed.”

“Changed how?”

“It all started here. In this church. This unusual beating of drums in my chest—it’s so warm. I don’t understand why it’s happening.”

Yoongi watched as the demon clutched his chest, where he picked up a soft thumping coming from Taehyung.

“But… you have no heart,” the angel dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to process what was happening.

“Yet my chest is beating so hard—like something is about to break free.”

“Taehyung.”

The demon shifted his view, only to be met with the angel’s eyes focused on him.

“What if I told you I knew where God kept your heart?”

Taehyung’s eyes didn’t blink for the longest. He gaped at the angel, until he caught himself and his lips aligned itself into a line. Faint images slowly surged, from the days of his youth. The days before the humans arrived and all was right with the world. His brothers were united, all in-sync like a fully-functioning apparatus. Then recollections of his Father’s herald of a new creation, the humans. It changed everything and turned into a blur. The only thing Taehyung could clearly remember was the way his oldest brother’s eyes grew black with rage.

Then the memories of his fall returned; the feeling of the wind hitting against his skin and pulling inside his chest grew tighter until he felt something snap and he was in Hell. The mention of his heart all brought back the recollection of that day.

“My heart?”

“Yes,” the angel nodded. “If I give it back to you, you’ll get your wings back and you can return...”

Another smile crept up on Taehyung’s face, but this time it wasn’t sincere.

“You expect me to go back up there?” He scoffed. “I don’t want to.”

Yoongi’s brow crinkled. He was slowly warming up to the demon, assumed that he wanted to relinquish his evil ways and return home ; but he was wrong. He suddenly was unsure of what the demon’s intentions were.

“Then why did you come here?” The angel stood up, his figure stiffening. “Why did you tell me these things? About that empty hole in your chest? Didn’t you want me to help you become an angel again?”

Taehyung shook his head, smile slowly fading from his face as he leaned back against the hard wood of the pew.

“No… I had no intention of that. But trust me when I say this, I’ve been completely honest with you. I only came here for shelter from the sun because this strange sensation in my chest willed me to walk across during a day on Earth and brought me to you.” He turned towards the befuddled angel, whose shoulders slowly slumped as he dropped his guard.

“You followed your heart? That’s very human of you.” Yoongi snorted.

“Maybe we’re all humans—inside. We’re just lost, angel. We’re just as lost as they are, don’t you realize that?”

Yoongi didn’t understand a thing about being human, despite watching Jungkook on a daily basis. He just understood that they were very emotional and selfish creatures. Jungkook did things the angel didn’t understand—selfish and petty things—but as an angel, Yoongi found himself feeling compassionate. No matter how unruly the boy may behave, Yoongi always forgave him; like Father always did. The idea of having some humanity in him was absurd to someone made to be perfect like him.

“I… I don’t know, Taehyung. I can’t think of such things. I’m an obedient servant, not a wanderer.”

“Maybe… I am a wanderer,” Taehyung took a step closer. “You can be one too, Yoongi. I know it! You won’t know if you are one until you try.” His mouth twisted into a smile, his pointed teeth glowing like stars.

Without realizing it, Taehyung closed the distance from Yoongi and placed his hands on the angel’s shoulders. Taehyung didn’t move his lips but Yoongi could swear he spoke to him in whalesong, saying: “We don’t have to live in two sides. Don’t be afraid, angel.”  

Yoongi hadn’t realized it in that moment but something touched his stubborn heart that day.

-

“Tae?”

“Hm?”

Jimin peeked inside the cave, seeing that Taehyung was awakened in the middle of a peaceful nap. His eyes were closed, but a subtle grin remained on his face as the memory of the angel’s dumbfounded expression imprinted itself in his mind.

“He wants to see you.” Taehyung’s grin faded.

“The Prince?”

He made a sound of agreement. Taehyung clicked his tongue.

“Tae, what’s going on—is it about the angel?”

Taehyung picked himself up, brushing off dust from his palms as he slipped past Jimin. His friend followed after him, trying to keep up with his pace.

“I told you to be careful,” Jimin scolded, his hand grasps for Taehyung’s arm only for his friend to pull away before he could even touch him.

“Well,” The demon strode across the dead grass, the leaves crunching beneath his bare feet. His voice was distant when Jimin stopped in his tracks behind him. “I didn’t listen.”  

-

It had been months since the church had improved slightly and the congregation swelled with each Mass. But Taehyung hadn’t come back to see the angel since they discovered whalesong.

Yoongi did not mind his absence, but it was quite unusual for him. The least the demon could’ve done was let him know ‘I’ll be out for a while’ through whalesong, but he hadn’t said a word. It was so quiet, as if Taehyung had ceased to exist. Not even a single sound of breath.

As if Yoongi could do anything. He had no way of crossing borders between Heaven and Hell.

But he found himself drifting into a sleep he never thought he needed before. He laid down beneath a tree, his back pressed against the wood and his eyes fluttering from the sudden drowsiness.

He was suddenly submitted  into a dream-like state surrounded by a blindingly empty world. However he found himself alone, being the one thing that kept this universe from being completely empty.

“Yoongi.” A large voice echoed behind the whiteness. A voice that sounded warm and familial.

“Who is that?”

The voice did not respond. He was alone once again.

But he felt something touch him, like a blessing of his grace. He understood something deep in him; the birth of a revelation.

He suddenly felt a tug in his chest.

When he woke up from his dream, he found himself at the mercy of the church. He sat up from the pew, only to look behind it to see the demon waiting for him.

“Where have you been?”

“Somewhere.” Yoongi could make out a small smile on Taehyung’ face only for it to fade shortly.

“Somewhere?” The angel furrowed his brows. “You didn’t tell me.”

“And you’re worried about me now?”

Yoongi’s eyes widened. “No! It wasn’t like you to disappear like that. I just thought ‘Why would he quit on me now?’”

Taehyung made his way to the front of the pews where Yoongi was, and strode along to stand in front of the angel, with a smirk on his face.

“That was very unlike you, Yoongi. First you listen to my innermost thoughts and now you’re concerned?” The demon kept his smile, his face inching closer to the angel’s.

“I-” The wound under Yoongi’s tunic began to sting. The closer to demon got, the heavier the pain started setting in. Yoongi winced, as the pain continued piercing through his skin.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

Surprised by the sight of blooming red on the angel’s shirt, Taehyung’s eyes widened and quickly moved the tunic collar aside to see the wound on his chest reddening.

“W-what’s happening to… me?”

“I-I don’t know...” The demon stood frozen, not sure what to do to make Yoongi’s pain to go away. “We need to get you back to the Kingdom. Can you fly back?”

Yoongi shook his head, unable to use any more of his strength to allow himself to sit up properly.

“I’ll take you there.” Taehyung took into Yoongi into his arms as he lifted him off the seat.

“Don’t, please.”

Ignoring the angel’s words, Taehyung closed his eyes and found himself in front of the Kingdom. Worked like it did before , he thought. He attempted to take a step closer, bare foot grazing above the soft cotton surface leading to the entrance, but something stopped him. An intangible force holding him back.

Biting down his lip, he lowered the half-conscious angel beside a shady tree and looked around them with wary eyes.

“Taehyung, please… leave. Don’t let them see you,” Yoongi managed to say, sitting up from where he had been placed.

“I’m fine now. You can go.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’ll be fine here, just go. I’ll meet you at the church again,” Yoongi reassured the demon, hand resting on the other’s shoulder.

The demon looked straight into Yoongi’s eyes, his own orbs riddled with distressing concern.

“Answer this question for me, angel. Then I will leave.”

“What is it?”

“Have you let me into your heart yet?”

Yoongi stayed silent, his wide eyes the only response he could give the other. Taehyung beamed, a soft chuckle escaping through his teeth.

“I’m just kidding. I’ll see you soon, angel.”

And with that he was gone, leaving a dumbfounded Yoongi to himself.

Somewhere in the clouds lay Taehyung’s heart, hidden away from angel eyes. It continued to slam into air, but Yoongi could—somehow—feel its beating in his own chest.

-

Moments after Taehyung vanished from his sight, the angel heard the shouts of Hoseok. The young angel came running towards Yoongi, a harp in hand and worried look on his face.

He couldn’t remember quite clearly how he found himself sitting beside a tree in Eden. The birds chirped as the warmth of sunlight tickled his eyes open, only to be greeted by Hoseok who was playing with the strings of his harp. He wasn’t particularly playing a melody, but he was trying to harmonize two quite different sounds together.

Yoongi found himself staring far too long at the way his fingers fiddled with the strings, lost in a trance until he managed the strength to speak up.

“Hoseok?”

The angel shot up from his harp. “YOONGI!”

Next thing the older angel saw, Hoseok tackled him in an embrace and he felt something warm and wet drip on his shoulder.

“I was so worried about you! How did you hurt yourself like this—why do you have such a big burn on your torso, Yoongi?” He could see his friend’s damp cheeks glistening under the sunlight.

“I’m fine now, Hoseok. I... burned myself with a candle.” Lying wasn’t Yoongi’s forté.

“Candle?” Hoseok sniffed. “That must’ve been a big candle. Are you sure?” The younger stared at Yoongi, eyes glaring red into his own as if trying to dig right through his lie. He had never seen his friend so distraught, yet he still looked as perfect as the day God sculpted his face.

“What happened to that demon?”

“He’s gone. This wasn’t him—it was merely an accident.”

“This was too big for an accident, Yoongi...”

Yoongi gritted his teeth, trying to keep his muscles from twisting and his nerves in check.

“Please, let me go with you. I want to meet this demon myself.” Hoseok’s eyes latched their gaze onto Yoongi’s, the pair not neglecting the older’s orbs as he held his statement.

There was one thing that Yoongi could not ignore; it was the way Hoseok habitually held importance in the smallest things that Yoongi did.

He could tell there was something that bothered Yoongi if the angel showed it through the subtle signs in his speech or his actions. Angels were made to appear as perfect beings but they were quite imperfect; humans just made mistakes quite more often and slightly more obvious, which was easier for an angel to see through their actions—angels, on the other hand, were much better at concealing such imperfections.

As Hoseok stayed quiet beside Yoongi, waiting for the latter’s response, the older knew one thing.

“Fine, let’s go.”

Hoseok would not give up so easily, so Yoongi thought it would be best if he met Taehyung now.

-

“As expected! The demon would be late.”

The angel tapped his foot impatiently, his arms crossed against his chest. Yoongi sat a few feet away from where his friend stood, yet he didn’t think the relentless tapping of Hoseok’s foot could have annoyed him this much.

“As an angel, I believe patience is a virtue. But I feel that virtue slipping away the more you continue to do that.” And Hoseok stopped, mumbled a “sorry” before sitting beside Yoongi.

The two sat in silence; an eerie yet magnificent silence that only within the presence of angels could occur. If one mortal could experience such a sight, they would be blessed. Even the smallest glimpse of two angels in such stillness could feel the grace of their existence.

But Yoongi sat with discomfort on his face. His mind was running all over place, the lingering itch under his tunic and his unanswered calls for Taehyung had been running amok on his train of thought.

Where are you—Taehyung, please answer me .

Silence.

“Brother...” Hoseok started.

“Yes?”

“This has been on my mind but… have you spoken to Father?”

Yoongi turned to face Hoseok, whose face begged for an answer.

“No—no one’s spoken to Him. If I had, I would have told you.”

The younger’s eyes dropped down as he slumped in his seat. Slowly, he began to nod with a kind of understanding formed on his face.

“Where could he be...”

I don’t know... but we’re all doing fine on our own. Yoongi wished he had said that. But he wished he said a lot of things. And as the moment passed and he wasn’t able to tell Hoseok, who had already begun babbling about different things, it occurred to him.

Yoongi had let many opportunities pass to say the most important things. By the time he decided he would speak, it was already too late. He wanted to tell his brother that he did speak with Father, and he was told that he was never coming back—or rather, that he was even leaving in the first place.

Now it was too late. It was no use, because as time went on, it became evident that it wasn’t going to make a difference if he told Hoseok about their Father’s absence.

Things are different now , Yoongi thought. He promised himself to say things that came to his mind, before it would be too late. Before it would be too late to tell Taehyung that yes, I have let you in my heart and you can have the rest of it .

Movement stirred from the back of the church.

Drip drop.

Drip drop.

Drip drop.

Then, several heavy footsteps on wet, mud-like substance shifted behind them, followed by pants of coarse breath. Its’ fingers seized the side of a pew, its stickiness latching itself on the wood.

Yoongi’s ears tickled at the sound of the panting, his heart pounding against another foreign beat in his own chest.

He found Hoseok already looking behind them, eyes wide at the sight that beheld him. And with his own eyes he turned to find a figure covered in black ooze, sluggishly trudging its way down the aisle towards the front of the church. It held itself up by leaning against the pews, its rough steps leaving tracks of the goo behind it.

Yoongi. Help me.

The words echoed in his mind, but he was focused on the creature in front of him. The drumming of his heart stopped, as if the veins tugged and squeezed the flow of blood shut. His brows furrowed, taking a step closer toward the hulking figure as it, too, shifted forward.

“Yoongi, don’t–”

“It’s him.” He saw the eyes, the red orbs that once floated in the dark of his dreams. “Taehyung.”

The moment the slime-covered demon collapsed in front of him, Yoongi immediately ran to his side. The face was the only thing free from the ooze, and the rest was covered in overwhelming amounts of it.

“Don’t t-touch me... it’ll suck you in, too,” Taehyung managed to say. He winced as the ooze burned into his skin, trying his best to keep away from the angel. The demon pushed himself away, leaving trails of black ooze in front of him.

“What happened?”

“Lucifer.”

The demon’s eyes glowed weakly, still so red. He punished me and trapped me in Leviathan’s blood. He was going to send me into the void.

The angel grimaced. “How did you escape?”

“Jimin.” Choking on dark fluid, the demon wiped away a drop on his chin. “He almost died trying to save me.”

“Where is he now–” Yoongi is cut off by Hoseok pushing past him, making his way to Taehyung who was just as surprised as the angel. He grabbed the demon by the arm and dragged him across the marbled floor, not caring about the crawling ooze on his own skin. He stopped in front of a porcelain fount, dropping the demon beside it as he halted his steps.

“Drunk yourself in holy water.”

“I’ll burn–!”

“A slight sear won't hurt as much.” Hoseok’s eyes grew hard yellow, his glare piercing right through Taehyung.

“Slight is a bit of an understatement, isn’t it?” Yoongi stopped when Hoseok scowled at him. He knew the younger was serious when his eyes flared, brilliant like the sun. His smile wasn’t the only reason he was always compared to daylight.

“I’m trying to save your friend here.” Hoseok’s eyes unsparingly darted back at the demon, still hesitantly looking down on his face reflected in the water.

“Get in!” The angel ordered.

Flinching at his words, the demon leaned over the fount and without hesitation, he fell into the water.

Once submerged, the once-clear water was now darkened by the ooze and spread in every corner of the pond. Taehyung was lost within the darkness.

The two angels waited for a head to pop up, even going as far as hovering over the water to get a closer look.

Taehyung?

“Here.” A certain blonde-haired demon rose from the depths of the fount, splashing water around him. Not only did the unexpected crash of water surprise the angels but said certain demon was only inches away from Yoongi’s face.

A casual smirk formed on his lips, taking in a deep breath as he slowly closed the distance between him and the angel. A soft touch between their lips caused Yoongi to fall back on his behind, making Taehyung chuckle in amusement.

Soft tinges of pink faded onto the angel’s cheeks, his arm waved in front of his face to hide the rosy tint.

Hoseok gagged. “God, that’s the most abominable thing I’ve ever seen since demons were born.”

Taehyung raised a brow. “A demon kissing an angel?”

“No,” the angel shook his head. “My brother blushing.” Hoseok shuddered, to which the demon could only laugh.

“Shut up!”

There came a glow. Not the bright shade of pink on Yoongi’s cheek, nor the sunlight gleaming from Hoseok when he smiled and laughed at his friend.

Taehyung felt something light up deep inside him, an urge to pull Yoongi toward him. To hold him close, so close to the point where all their edges would meet and blend into a blur. Somewhere inside a heartless demon was a cave, a deep crater where his heart once lay. A heart, that even to this day, still beat.

-

“Taehyung?”

A small but weak voice piped up from behind them. Taehyung’s laugh faded as his eyes flew from Yoongi to the fading figure behind Hoseok.

Jimin. Blood. Jimin. Dying.

Ascending from the pool, he let himself drip and ran to his ailing friend.

“Jimin!”

The weak demon’s body collapsed as he fell into Taehyung’s arms before he could hit the floor. Jimin’s eyes fluttered, using the energy left inside to keep his eyes open and to speak.

“Tae… you need to leave,” Jimin barely managed, his weary eyes looking toward the black-haired angel. “You and Yoongi.”

“Jimin–”

“Tae, listen to me! He’s not going to stop, you know that–!”

Jimin pleaded, his eyes said it all. Taehyung saw tears, but he felt the love and friendship Jimin gave him during those dark times. All of it in falling drops, hot tears swelling from his friend’s eyes.

“Please. Both of you are in danger.”

Taehyung bit his lip. His mind was a mess. His emotions were completely fired up, seeing his friend bleeding and crying out of desperation.

“Hurry, please… ! There’s no time!”

Ignoring Jimin, Taehyung carried his frail body in his arms and looked towards Hoseok. He marched toward the angel, only to stop halfway.

“Take him back to the kingdom. He has nowhere to go.” There was a silence between them, with Hoseok focused into Taehyung’s eyes. “He doesn’t deserve to be without his wings. Take him back, brother . He’s safer with you.”

Yoongi’s eyes grew at the mention. Brother . Hoseok stood at a distance, holding his ground. He nodded and held out his arms.

Before Taehyung could hand over Jimin, he looked down at his friend and smiled, sadly. “Thank you.”

Jimin responded with a delicate smile as he raised a hand to his friend’s cheek, wiping a small tear that dripped down Taehyung’s cheek. “Take care, friend. I’ll see you again.”

He carried Jimin over to Hoseok, giving his friend one last doleful look and a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Where are we to go, Taehyung? He will find us wherever we hide.”

“We’ll just have to run.” Walking over to Yoongi, he held his hand. “But first you have something you need to return.”

The angel was bewildered. “Return what?”

Taehyung pointed at Yoongi’s chest. “My heart?”

“No, my heart. You took it from Eden, where all of lost angels’ hearts were placed after we all fell.”

Taehyung wasn’t making any sense to Yoongi. He didn’t even recall going near the Pond of Hearts.

“I don’t remember touching anything–I only remember a dream...” Then something inside clicked. There was his dream. That was it.

“A dream–?”

“There’s no time! You two need to get out of here and we need to go back to the kingdom!” A flap of wings blew by and Hoseok was gone with Jimin.

Yoongi turns to Taehyung. “Let’s talk about this up there.”

-

Away from other angels’ eyes, they hid in Eden. No one frequented the garden. It had many artifacts but nothing of current importance.

Eden was not a garden, per se. It was a collection of God’s timeline, a chronicle of infinite events. The demon’s hearts were his failures, the apples were his victories. It was a trophy case filled with both wins and losses, though long forgotten by his own children during his absence.

And during their time within his vast collection of memorabilia, Hoseok spent the entirety of their presence there pacing. His poor eyes, drowning in agony. He may have aged a millennia, but he was still young. Naivè even.

“Do I just… pluck it out?”

“I’m not sure. Try it out,” Yoongi dunked his hand in the water, reaching for the pulsing heart amongst the frozen ones.

The tips of his fingers touched the smooth texture and he hesitantly grasped it, before pulling the heart out of the pond.

“Take it.” Gently, he cradled the pounding core in his hands and pushed it towards Hoseok, who shyly held his hands out.

The heart let out soft, slow beats. It glowed reddish and pinkish hues, as it neared its’ owner. With Hoseok’s free hand supporting his back, Jimin sat up and reluctantly accepted the heart being offered to him by the angel, swallowing it whole.

Jimin reached a hand to his chest, his insides glowing and swelling. Heat emanated out of the angel, a surge of power waiting to burst from within.

“J-Jimin?” Taehyung held a shaky hand towards his friend, which forced Yoongi to hold him back. “No, let him be. We need to go.”

The demon grabbed Yoongi by his forearm, with distress plastered on his face. “Okay, but first you need to tell me about my heart.”

Yoongi shifted in his grasp. “If you want it that badly, we can just get it from the pool.”

Taehyung glanced at the pool, then back at the angel.

“It’s not there. I checked.”

Rolling of thunder boomed from outside, far beyond the gates. The blue skies above the kingdom loomed with dark hues, the day losing its’ strength every second. A loud roar scared the angel to hold onto Taehyung, his grip tighter than a vein.

“We don’t have time. Our bastard brother is coming,” Yoongi’s fingers around Taehyung tensed. The banging in the cage of his chest grew louder and louder, frantically trying to break free. It was ringing in his ears as he was being pulled away by Yoongi out of Eden, and toward some dark corner in the deepest parts of the kingdom.

It hadn’t changed. The kingdom was still covered in porcelain, clouds, and grace. Except the dark clouds hovering over. They passed numerous halls, with wall covered with doors. The doors did not appear all the same, they were unique. They differed in color, and sometimes the style of knob and crests were unlike the others.

The memories of running the down the halls brought nostalgia to the demon who was towing behind Yoongi. They kept running and running, which seemed like forever. He looked behind him and saw the dark clouds approaching closer, eating away the sky.

They finally halted when they reached a wide hall, spacious enough for thousands. There were big windows placed above stone bleachers, that surrounded the hall. At the center, there was a dark blue pond.

The angel took one step at a time, and when he neared the pond, he stopped.

“What is it?” Taehyung peeped over.

“It’s a portal. Only angels can use it.”

The demon followed behind the angel. He ended his steps at the edge and observed the pond. It was a reflection of the blue heavens, where burning stars sprinkled across its body like the night sky.

“Where does it take you?”

“Another realm.” The angel’s eyes stared deeply into the blue abyss, the twinkles of billions suns imprinted into his own glossy orbs.

“But Lucifer can still follow us in there. Without a doubt, he is still an angel.”

“You’re right. He can still follow us into the portal. But when you pass through it, you change...”

Taehyung looked up from the pond, his forehead wrinkled. “Change how?”

“When you pass through another universe...you turn into an alternate version of yourself. You become someone else. Lucifer...He will never find us because he too will cease to be an angel. He won’t have the powers to find us.”

They stare into the eeriness of it all, while it stares right back at them.

“This is the only way,” Yoongi mumbles.

“Angel...before anything else,” Taehyung’s eyes goes straight to the angel’s heart.

Before anything else.

Yoongi nods.

They both do.

Because that’s how it worked. That’s how they worked.

Whalesong was a harmony of two different notes, alive like the breath from your lungs. They work together to create a beautiful melody.  A beauty forged by a larger power than heaven: the universe .

And in that moment, Yoongi knew that the voice in his dream was not his conscience. It had not been his absent Father’s faint echoes in the farthest corner of his mind. It was the universe, that fated to bring him in front of a demon who he believe he knew nothing about. Or so he had believed.

His hand rests on his clothed chest. He stays still, feeling the restlessness rumbling inside. It was not one heart, but two. Two hearts, beating against each other.

“You’ve had it all this time,” the demon whispered, softly. “My heart, Yoongi. My heart...Why...why do you have it?”

Tears suddenly welled up in the angel’s eyes.

“Taehyung...I’ve always had it.”

These words resonated in a deeper part of Taehyung, like repressed memories hidden away in a chest and Yoongi found a key, unlocking Taehyung’s chest to find missing pieces of his puzzle:

Pair of hearts.

For every angel, there was a demon as their other half. That was Lucifer’s price. He had taken half of God’s children, his perfect offsprings, and taken them away from their homes in exchange for his departure from God’s mighty kingdom.

“You forgot me,” Yoongi stepped closer. “You wouldn’t remember me after your thread was cut. It was the most important thing that all angels had and that thread was whalesong. All angels had whalesong, it’s...a thread that has been cut off once an angel had been transformed into a demon. It can never mended, but for some reason, our thread came together.”

Taehyung was so confused. He couldn’t fit pieces together, but he didn’t have any pieces to put together in the first place. He never knew of his “other half,” but he knew of memories of his time as an angel. It was the humans’ faults, the other angels’ faults, it was their Father’s.

“If I take my heart back, will it all make sense?”

The angel agreed, his fingers making their way to loosen the strings that closed his tunic together.

Once he exposed his chest, Yoongi opened himself to the demon. Allowing Taehyung to hold out his hand and reach into his chest, passing through flesh and bone, only to fist a heart into his own hand. He pulls out the pulsating organ, and holds it with both hands as the beating thrived with each moment passing.

He takes one look at the angel before taking the entire heart into his mouth, down his throat and back where it belongs. It burned, like swallowing the sun and feeling its body grace you with eternal sunshine.

The pain was good, but unbearable. Grace was not a merciful thing, not for an angel. It was a painful process, much birth but you feel every muscle and bone in your body stretching into a fully matured physique.

Yoongi could see it. How unbearable it must be for Taehyung to experience such pain, and he couldn't help himself. For he once thought angels were perfect, but he had accepted it now that they were just able to hide it.

He was just as a human would be.

He understood the pain the demon was going through, and he had held back for so long. The moment he saw him again, though in his demon form, he withheld the emotions. The pounding heart that he kept, believing it had died along with the owner and his own. That was pain. Long suffering, having to watch someone you love and pretend they are nothing to you.

In the end, Yoongi let go. He stopped resisting and unleashed that cannonball fire from his grip and wrapped his pale arms around the demon, bringing his lips upon the other as he shared his love for him to soften the pain soldering his insides.

I love you, I’m here for you.

Only just a little bit more and it’ll be all over.

Trust me.

His lips told more than just one kiss. It was comfort, safety, reassurance—that Taehyung will never be alone because Yoongi will always be there for him.

A booming voice from the other side of the hall yelled for the two of them, but the angels had no care in the world. They blended into one, like boiling metals unfrozen by hot coal and melded to create a single entity.

“Yoongi! Taehyung!”

It was Hoseok’s voice. Yoongi wanted to turn his vision. From the corner of his eye, he could see his friend running to them with another figure, who more or less was Jimin, following closely behind him as a much larger and darker figure hung over them.

“Run!”

And together they fell into the abyss, without any trace left behind. Everything else came after.

-

A songbird at the height of the afternoon. Sounds of hair gliding gracefully against strings to wood, sorrowful emotions voice their way from the melody that conveyed them.

The oaken chairs made from trees, the floors from the same origin creaked at each step as the hall was filled with respected individual who had a penchant for such music. Among the crowd were two boys who sat hip-to-hip, giggling amongst themselves like two cherubs hiding behind puffs of clouds. One had lips like peaches and eyes that formed into crescents when he laughed. The other had a smile like the sun, so bright that it reflected in the other’s eyes. They sat in front, having the best seats in the entire hall and seemed like they belonged together, some place in their own world. Everyone else sat there and expected drama and suspense from the artist’s performance.

However the music filling the hall was neither drama nor suspense. Its’ sentimentality was a piece of the past that one could not simply understand just by listening to it. It was the memory that the master of the cello attempt to convey to their audience hoping to achieve a true connection, only to receive applause and hollow tears.

No one could truly understand such intense power of control with the way his fingers and bow tugging and towing at his instrument. Except a man who stood at the back of the hall who was silent amongst the sea of claps.

“The cello,” said man, with raven hair and fair skin, as he approaches the cellist. “You’re...it’s uh, tragic. Quite a story, really.”

“Thank you. Uh sir...?” The other man, the master with a tan complexion and wood brown hair, held out his hand to which was received by the other.

“Yoongi. Min Yoongi.”

His grip on Yoongi’s hand tightened. “Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.”

You were...Before anything else.

It’s you.

It’s always going to be you.