Yoongi glances over, surprised and shy and pleased all at once. He's never going to get over this, not ever, he's sure of it. Nothing could dim the sweet, gentle pleasure of loving this much and being loved so much in return. To be compared to the finest of art and know it might actually be true — that if anything could be better, it's the real thing, and that, if anything could bring his feelings so visibly to his face, it's Jungkook.

"Like I said," he says. "Art's at its best when it comes closest to real life. Or furthest, sometimes." There are pieces so beautiful, they transport him to a more peaceful frame of mind, elevate him above the day to day, and that's a gift as powerful and necessary as the ability to bring to life things more grounded in reality. He hardly dares compare himself to such things, but if Jungkook does, well, it's enough to know that. "And the way I love you..." He holds Jungkook's gaze a moment, pulling it away to make sure he doesn't walk into anything. "Nothing more real than that."