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“Bugger,” I muttered, and then sighed as I began to reach for the spilled contents to shove them back in the box.

I was so focused on my task that I didn’t notice him until his hand was mere inches from my own. Long, pale fingers with several rings reaching for the same cables. I jolted and looked up, frozen mid-movement as my eyes met his.

People say that all the time, didn’t they? That they were lost for words, or stunned into silence, and it always sounded like such nonsense. But it had been true in the very beginning, and it was still true now.

I paused, lost in the warmth of his eyes as they held mine captive in a way I had never truly gotten used to, and never wanted to.

“You are making a habit of this, jagiya.” He smiled at me, that teasing, lopsided smile that never failed to make the butterflies in my stomach riot.

“Maybe I just wanted your attention,” I teased.

“How many times must I tell you? I always see you.”

“Mm. Keep telling me.” I leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his smiling lips. We tidied up the mess together, and then, clearly not trusting me not to drop his equipment again, Jihoon picked up the box before we took it to where it needed to go. I pushed open the door to his studio and watched as he crouched to put it on the floor far more gently than I would have. This time, I didn’t try to pretend I wasn’t staring at his ass. He caught me looking. He always caught me. I looked away when he straightened, admiring his records, now that he’d finally gotten around to mounting them on the walls. Vinyls of various colours – his, and GVibes’, taking up an entire wall. As my eyes travelled around the room, they snagged on a sheaf of papers on his desk.

“Is this for Between Worlds?” I asked, picking up a series of art prints – concepts for the new album, I guessed.

Their new single, A World Apart, had come out today, taking everyone by surprise with the unannounced drop, and the Viber community was on fire with glee.

I looked over the printed images, inspecting the glossy artwork.

The Auriga constellation was clearly displayed on the final concept image, high in the twilight sky. Jihoon had explained this to me – that the constellation wasn’t always clear because of where you were in the world, or the time of year. Conditions had to be right for you to be able to see it, which was why it wasn’t displayed on the first three prints.

“It’s about giving people hope,” he explained, pointing at the separate images. “Seasons change, people change, places change.” He tapped the final picture. “Auriga is about guiding people to where they need to go.”

“The charioteer,” I said, and he nodded, the story of the constellation not needing further explanation after all this time.

“The tour is over. Reset is done. But Auriga is still there,” he said.

“I love it,” I said simply. “The artwork is beautiful.”

“It tells a story that Vibers will understand,” he said simply, and I knew he was right.

“Come.” He ran his hand down to the small of my back, gently nudging me out of his studio. “Let’s try to get a few more boxes put away so we can eat.”

We walked back into the airy front room, and I looked around to evaluate the situation. We’d made such a big dent over the past week. In addition to the sofa and TV he’d had before, there were now houseplants, armchairs, a sound system, and all manner of other, normal living room items, making it feel less like the house he occasionally passed through, and more like a home where he lived. Boxes no longer lined the walls, gathering dust. Most had been unpacked.

Finally.

“Ah, there’s the culprit,” I said darkly, pointing to the container that had tripped me.

“Maybe you should have been watching where you were going.” He nudged my hip with his as he passed me to pick it up.

“If I hadn’t dropped that box, you wouldn’t have stopped to help me, and then where would we be?” I shrugged innocently, knowing he was also remembering that day so many years ago.

Jihoon paused and turned to look at me. “Jagiya, there is not a world in which I would not have found you.”

My throat tightened and I found I suddenly didn’t have anything to say to that. He just smiled and bent to pick up the box.

“Where?” he asked, hoisting the box in his arms, and from the strain on his face, I could tell he hadn’t been prepared for it to be as heavy as it was.

“Studio three,” I teased, waggling my eyebrows at him, but he only let out an exasperated breath, making me laugh.

“My office,” I said with a grin, pointing at the door right next to his music studio.

He carried the box over to the open door, pushing it open with his shoulder and stepping through.

“Anywhere is fine.” I indicated the empty floor in front of the desk where my laptop sat open, still displaying the email from Becka with the list of interview requests that I knew we would only turn down. We’d already issued a public statement telling the world as much as anyone needed to know. We were together. We had dated briefly years ago. He’d had no influence in my tour appointment.