They move. It's bigger, sparklier, more expensive.
"In a way, it's us," Namjoon says, looking out the balcony at the foggy Seoul skyline.
Yoongi rolls his eyes. "It's an apartment," he bites back, snorting. Namjoon laughs. Yoongi closes his eyes, breathes in.
He thinks about the way the living room, scattered though it still is with boxes and discarded slippers, is already starting to look like them.
Yoongi smiles, small. Concedes to Namjoon's point, if only a bit.
Seokjin has his own room now. Yoongi asks him how it is, to have his own space. Seokjin kicks at him, almost makes Yoongi fall from the (bigger, comfier, softer--) bed.
"Very funny," Seokjin says, voice raspy with sleep. He doesn't look at Yoongi, eyes firm on his comic, glasses slipping down his nose. Yoongi reaches out to fix them.
Tomorrow, Seokjin will go to his room to change. Tonight, he stays in Yoongi's room. Allows Yoongi to get closer, closer, closer.
"Jinnie," Yoongi calls.
Seokjin closes his book.