GREY AREA. (M) | 13
“And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.
And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.”
:: pairing: min yoongi x reader
:: word count: 11,152
:: chapter index
*warnings for this chapter: mentions of drunk sex, mentions of death.
Your fingertips shake by your sides as they drift through the air. The strands of your ebony hair sway around you as you fall.
You’re floating through the air - body horizontal. You can feel the wind kiss the nape of your neck in a gentle yet painful touch. Your skin starts to cool from the bitterness of the weather, and you feel like you weigh absolutely nothing. You’re light - a feather.
You don't know from where you fall, you don't know from how high you've fallen, all that you can pinpoint clearly is that you are falling and judging by the panic setting inside of your being, you are about to hit the ground.
Your arms outstretch as your hands try to find something to grab onto, but it's to no avail because there is nothing to grasp. It's as if you're falling into nothing, the only thing you know for sure is that there is a ground.
Your mind wanders, you search for answers. What had you been doing previous to this incident? What had caused you to fall? Your lungs ache and your throat burns as you try to scream for help, but when your lips part and you go to yell - you find that you can't.
It feels as though the wind’s been knocked out of you. And suddenly, instead of looking upwards - you're watching yourself fall.
And there is a noise - a faint and incoherent yell, a shout. Somebody screaming for you, you can hear the hysteria in their voice, could probably see the panic on their face, if they were visible - and then, you watch yourself as you grow closer to the ground - the grass now coming into view.
You want to look away, but you can't.
It's as if you physically have to see what happens - like you're watching a movie that you've never seen before, or reading a story you don’t know the ending to. and then-
right before your body hits the ground, an impact that would surely kill you - you come to your senses.
First: it's your ears.
They twitch with wonder as your body slowly starts to creep outwards from unconsciousness. The first coherent noise you can recognize is the sound of a whirring fan, one that sounds like it’s about to fall off its hinges.
Your second body part to awaken is that of your nose, and the first thing you smell is something wet and metallic. It smells like it’s been raining blood.
The overwhelming amount of heat you feel causes your clothes to stick to your body, soaked in what could only be sweat. This prompts you -to finally let your obsidian hued eyes open.
The first thing they see is the one thing you guessed: a ceiling fan. And your mind seems to slowly catch up with your sight, because you realize then that your room does not contain a ceiling fan.
And it's as you sit up - slightly asleep and a little panicked at the fact that you do not know where you are, is when you finally feel it.
The pain in your head is absolutely excruciating. A plethora amount of hurt courses throughout your body, and if inner pain held a noise - you swear it would resemble something of cats fighting, or claws against a chalkboard.
Your hands fly up to hold your forehead, as if the touch of them will somehow magically dull the throb in your head. But it is to no avail. This. This right here, the pain of your hangover - would help persuade you to not drink as much as you had the previous night ever again. You’re sure that the next time you’re offered something alcoholic you’re going to have war flashbacks.
You blink a few more times, trying the best in your sleep induced state to knock back the exhaustion you feel in your bones
Your mouth is dry, and your tongue feels like sandpaper. You find yourself looking around, in search for something to wash away the god awful taste the night before left in your mouth, and when your eyes land on a bottle of medicine labeled: Aleve, you almost piss yourself with glee.
There's an unopened bottle of water next to the pills - and whoever was at fault for leaving the two much needed supplies - you were sure, in that moment, you were going to marry.
With no worry, and your hangover blocking all inner arguments you'd have with yourself- "Do you know how dangerous this whole situation is? You don't know where you're at, and now you're going to take something that could've easily been tampered with?!" - you toss three pills in your mouth, and down half the bottle of water in one go.
You wipe your wet mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes finally taking in your surroundings - if you weren't in your bedroom, then where the fuck were you?
The bed you had slept the night - and probably most of the day in, was pushed up against a brick wall, with a large window that was thankfully covered by blinds.
Across the bed, on the opposite wall were three shelves, and a keyboard in the corner of the room. You had not been expecting to find such an instrument in Jungkook’s room.
And this could only be Jungkook's room, right?
Because through your clouded and very much pain filled mind - you are able to remember one thing: Jungkook. You had spent the night hanging out with Jungkook, the last thing you could recollect was him smiling at you - so Jungkook - he must've been the one to bring you here - it only made sense, didn't it?
You let out a breath - an easy sigh of relief. Your heartbeat calms in your chest, and for the first time you allow yourself to properly breathe.
But if Jungkook had been the one to bring you here, where was he now? Shouldn't he be in the same amount of pain as you, shouldn't he be nursing a serious hangover as well?
And that’s when you realize that you absolutely had to pee.
And the more the thought sticks in your mind, the more urgent it became. You cross your legs as you quickly toss them over the edge of the bed. A loud thump! echoes throughout the room, and when you peer over to see what you had accidentally knocked to the floor - you find a book and a pair of clothes that look unfamiliar. And most importantly, your cellphone, landing on top of a cream-colored sweater.
You jump from the bed and bend down to grab the things that had fallen. First you grab the discarded clothes, which had been folded neatly. As you turn to put the items back - you notice it. In piles surrounding the entire perimeter of the bed, not pushed up against the wall - were stacks of books.
You raise your eyebrows as you let your body crouch down to study the different titles, the tips of your fingers cascading across the different covers, the genre, rather than the amount - is what takes you by surprise.
These are romance books. And not just books - novels. These are romance novels.
Your eyes catch the different tiles - Pride and Prejudice sits atop one pile, the very familiar cover staring back up at you as you glance at it - Romeo and Juliet is buried between Wuthering Heights and Gone with the Wind.
And most of these books - don't look like brand new copies. These look old and outdated, something you'd find at a flea market, or a second hand bookstore. Maybe even first editions. Out of curiosity, you flip open the one that had fallen, which just so happens to be Sense and Sensibility. And you're amazed when you carefully open the cover - because the pages are yellowed and the tears are rare. This book seems to have been read quite a bit and treated with the utmost delicacy. You can only guess that the other books are in a familiar state.
Slowly and just as carefully as you had been grabbing it and looking through it, you set the book back down, and when you see The Great Gatsby staring up at you before it's covered by Sense and Sensibility - you find yourself smiling.
Because, Jungkook had taste.
You glance down at the remaining items in your grasp. When you go to move the clothes back onto the mattress where they had been folded and laid out neatly, is when you realize that they were more than likely placed there for you.
You can’t help but smile at the thought. But honestly you shouldn’t expect anything less coming from Jungkook. The kind gesture causes a strange flutter to start in your chest.
You grab your phone, fingers immediately moving to turn it on - only to be met with disappointment when the screen displays a battery picture, a thin red line near the end and the “needs to be charged,” symbol below.
You let out a breath before grabbing the clothes meant for you and rushing off to the bathroom. Luckily enough for you, even though your head was still pounding, you were able to focus enough to remember where the bathroom had been. The memories of Yoongi telling you where it was in his shared apartment flashed through your mind.
As you relieved yourself, you were absolutely convinced that there was not a better feeling than of peeing after holding it for awhile. When you finish you decide to change.
The sweater is something you could never see Jungkook wearing. It’s a warm cream color that drowns your body easily in size. It ventures down past your torso and comes to an abrupt stop mid thigh. You attempt to roll up the sleeves a few times, but it fails and you’re left with sweater paws.
There’s a pair of light blue shorts staring back up at you from where they lay folded neatly on the surface of the sink’s bathroom counter. And for a moment you actually debate wearing them or not, because the sweater was long enough to cover your bottom half - but it was probably still a good idea to put them on. And so you do. You have to roll the waistband down a few times to get them to fit tighter on your hips.
Tight enough to be able to walk in without having them slip to your feet. But still - they fit loosely. You had folded your clothes from last night with distaste. The top from the night before was drenched in sweat and you were actually utterly repulsed by yourself. How could a human being sweat that much?
You had pulled your short, pink tinted hair up into a ponytail, curls falling out of it easily to surround your face. Actually, you welcomed your hair to cover your face because your makeup was disastrous - smudged under your eyes. Knowing that there’s nothing you can do about it right now, you suck in a deep breath. You venture out of the bathroom - and instead of going back into Jungkook’s bedroom you find your feet taking you down the carpeted hallway.
On your way into the living room/kitchen you notice that the apartment is eerily quiet. There are no traces of noise anywhere. It’s not until you’ve reached the end of the hallway, not until your eyes roam around both empty rooms that you realize you were in the apartment all alone.
Which made you wonder - where were the inhabitants of the apartment?
How could Jungkook already be over his hangover when you’re positive he had more to drink than you last night - or had you? (That part, along with the other events of the night were still fuzzy, damn it!)
Suddenly, you turn on your heel, eyes focusing on the hallway that only moments ago you had walked down. Your shoes were missing - you needed your shoes so you could leave. And as your feet brushed into the comfortable carpet you find yourself smiling - at least Jungkook’s hospitality of leaving you a pair of clothes could help with you not looking like you were doing a walk of shame. Your fingers grip the doorknob belonging to Jungkook’s bedroom, you twist it and when you push it open - you find yourself confused.
Utterly, horribly, confused.
Because as your eyes roam around the room - you find yourself noticing that this was certainly not the one you had woken up in.
Although clean, it was messier than the one before. The bed was on the opposite side and the keyboard you had noticed was suddenly missing.
For some reason your heart falls into the pit of your stomach. And you swallow an abundant amount of nerves that had attempted to crawl up your throat. You turn your head to the right, eyes finding the other door on this wall in particular.
You had remembered the bathroom, but you had forgotten that Yoongi’s bedroom was closest to the bathroom.
You had woken up in Yoongi’s bedroom - which could only mean one thing..
Yoongi had brought you here.
But - why?
Why had Yoongi brought you to his apartment and not Jungkook when you had spent a majority of the night with the younger boy?
You find yourself grunting, focusing on your confusion to get rid of your nerves. You slowly pull Jungkook’s bedroom door shut, and swallowing the last bit of your nerves you start to creep ever so slowly down the hallway and back to Yoongi’s bedroom.
And when you’re standing in the threshold, you finally allow your eyes to focus on your soulmate's bedroom.
Prior to today, you had never been in his room before - and you weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t what you had been met with.
In the back corner of the room, to the right laid his bed. A bed you had slept in for more than twelve hours. And once you study the bed - you realize that there’s a space left open, that in between the hoards of books, there was an opening. A space meant for climbing in and out of the bed. You find the entire sight quite cute.
And even though there are several books stacked into neat piles - he still has more, crammed into the three bookshelves you had seen when you had first awoken.
Yoongi was a reader, that was for sure.
Your eyes drift ever so slowly from the large space from the bookshelves, to the instrument you had looked over so thoughtlessly earlier. A trashcan next to it is littered with bunched up papers, you should have known this was Yoongi’s bedroom.
You take a few steps inside - and you feel like you are breaking a law. Your heart starts to hammer in your chest quickly.
Wordlessly, you find yourself approaching his bed again and once you sit down you try to make sense of everything. Your hands tighten into the feather blanket, knuckles turning white as you bunch the fabric.
He did something so caring - and it was still a little odd to you that Yoongi wasn't the cold-hearted bastard he often acted like. That there was something more to him.
Something that you were just beginning to see.
Everything feels different suddenly - the room seems much more interesting. Slowly you let yourself lean back into the mattress, eyes finding the ceiling as you bring the blankets back up to your nose. Out of reflex, you inhale the scent lingering on the bedspread- and Yoongi’s cologne stained the material with a demand to be remembered.
You should have known.
You find yourself looking back up to study the ceiling fan. You more than definitely were going to tell Yoongi that it needed to be fixed, but you had a feeling that he already knew.
It feels odd to stare at the piece of furniture Yoongi stared at every night. It felt even odder to feel the blankets he slept in cover your skin.
You don’t want to leave, but reluctantly you pull yourself back up into a sitting position. Fingers immediately moving to pick at the skin surrounding your nails.
Something deep inside nagged at you - screamed that you shouldn't start to get used to seeing this side of Yoongi, and as hard as you try, you couldn't shake the thought away.
You move your hands to run through the top of your messy ponytail, you didn't want to overstay your welcome, nor did you want to take advantage of Yoongi's hospitality.
But.
But.
But!
You were alone in Min Yoongi's bedroom, this was the only opportunity you'd get - you were sure, that would allow you to learn about him. You knew that Yoongi wasn't going to open up anytime soon, and you were desperate for answers - this was your chance to take advantage of it.
You could either leave, or you could stay. Stay and try to learn about him through the things he obtained.
Your head moves as you try to soak up each and every detail of your soulmate’s room before you were going to force yourself to leave.
Because - you were betraying him in a way.
And though he wouldn't know, you would.
The thought is enough to make you stand upwards, you walk a few steps forward before once again stopping. Because if you weren't going to stay, you were going to take your time on leaving the bedroom you would probably never be able to see again.
That's when you notice a desk you hadn't seen before - hidden between two chunks of wall, and without thinking you start to walk towards it - suddenly curious of the objects you see sitting atop the surface. There seemed to be a jar full of...candy?
And when you are close enough to realize - that you were in fact correct, that there was a glass full of yellow lollipops sitting on his desk - you find yourself smiling. Letting out a small laugh at the thought of Yoongi sucking on or liking anything sweet.
And - it wasn't just a few lollipops. There were a ton. All the same flavor. All bunched up together. And judging by the number count, it wouldn't surprise you to find out that Yoongi probably had several cavities.
You turn back around then, smiling to yourself as you start to head back towards the door - feet suddenly coming in contact with a rug that sits in the middle of the room, and when you glance down you notice the color - olive green.
You feel uneasy suddenly, and it takes a moment but your smile suddenly falls, eyes then travel from the rug to the brown tile covering the floor.
You raise your head slowly, eyes fluttering around the various sights surrounding you. What had caused this sudden uneasiness to occur?
You turn around to absorb the entire room from the exit - and you are met with just how vague looking Yoongi's bedroom actually is.
The rug, and perhaps the lollipops too - were the only source of color.
And you wonder if the colors were just there to bring a sense of life to his bedroom.
And even though it surely was a bedroom, even though it more than likely held a lot of personal possessions, you could feel a sort of detachment. Like it’s owner had refused to make an emotional connection with it.
And if Yoongi couldn’t even find it within himself to decorate his bedroom - let some of him show, would he ever be able to find it within himself to open up to you, to allow you to see sides of him?
You decide then that you should probably get going, you knew that you absolutely couldn't stay in that bedroom a moment longer, so absentmindedly you slip on the shoes you had worn the night before, which were left by his bedroom door, and venture inside of the hallway.
You’ve just made it to the kitchen when the doorknob to the front door twists and is pulled open. Revealing the person who had brought you here: Yoongi.
“Honestly--” Seokjin’s voice says, grabbing Yoongi’s attention once again. “What’s going on with you?” Yoongi watches as Seokjin’s eyebrows pull together, something he does when he’s- “You don’t seem to be very well and it’s worrying me--” worried.
Yoongi clears his throat, eyes studying Seokjin’s and by the gleam of interest and fear in Seokjin’s eyes - Yoongi can tell that Seokjin is going to push.
“I’ve just not been feeling - myself, lately.”
“Noticeable.” Seokjin says the moment Yoongi’s lips fall closed.
“Do you want to talk about it? You know I’m all ears, no judgment here.”
Yoongi pauses, as if to consider the option. Seokjin’s knowledge about the predicament was limited - Yoongi had only shared what he had with his friend on a whim, on accident. He was drunk, and he was crying, and when he’s drunk and emotional he tends to let things slip from his mouth - which is why he doesn’t get drunk.
Not anymore.
He couldn’t afford to, especially since you had waltzed into his life.
It doesn’t happen often, but there are times that Jimin’s memory comes rushing to the surface of Yoongi’s brain. There are times when his repressed thoughts of his first love climb up from the darkest parts of his head - out from the chest that Yoongi’s buried everything Jimin in, and comes barreling to the front of his mind.
Yoongi calls them his slip-ups. His moments of weakness.
Yoongi often finds himself wondering what it would be like if the roles were reversed - if Jimin was the one here, and he was not.
He’s curious about how the outcome would have played out, the differences between you meeting Jimin and not him.
Because Jimin - well, he had always been different than Yoongi, doesn’t matter how many experiences he had with him, nor the years. He was always a smooth talker, where Yoongi choked on words and swallowed the ones that refused to come out. Jimin always knew what to say or how to act. Yoongi - on the other hand, did not. Had lost what knowledge he held on the two topics the day he lost Jimin. The progress he had made had disappeared and again he had been pushed back to the beginning.
He only remembers that Seokjin has asked him a question, when he looks up and is met with a pointed look.
“You started getting bad again only recently when-” Seokjin hesitates, hands wrapping more protectively around the cup of coffee his fingers are wrapped securely around. He’s leaning against the bookshelf Yoongi is currently unloading books at. “--when Namjoon’s friend’s came into the picture. And I know that - that, accepting new people into your life is difficult, but-”
Yoongi cuts his friend off with a snort.
Did Seokjin really think that he was acting so off because of some new faces? As silly as the thought itself, was, he couldn’t blame him - it’s not like he was very open with his friend anyway. He pushes Of Mice and Men back into its place before his hands curl around the handle of the cart that carries all of the returned books.
“Seokjin.” Yoongi says, “My recent moodswings are not because of some new faces, alright?” he watches the tension deflate from Seokjin’s shoulders, hears as his friend lets out a sigh of relief.
Only half a lie, that should count for something, shouldn’t it?
“I’m just- just-” Yoongi looks off to the side then, chin moving to set on his shoulder, eyes fixating on the titles that the library he works at has to offer. And before he has the chance to even think about lying further - the words are tumbling from his mouth without permission.
“It’s Y/n.”
His hands immediately move from the handle bars and up to cover his lips. He could not believe he had just let that slip out - his eyes widen, he waits a few silent moments before turning back to Seokjin - only to find his friend giving him a very warm smile in return.
There’s something unreadable in Seokjin’s eyes, but Yoongi can tell that his friend is almost as shocked at his sudden outburst as he is.
“I know.”
Seokjin says, and for some reason the corners of Yoongi’s lips uplift the tiniest amount. It hadn’t been that obvious had it, that you had been the sudden cause in his odd behavior? His lips then quickly fall back to a neutral line altogether, suddenly he’s reminded- he remembers just why he can’t -
“Seokjin. You-”
His shoulders tense upwards as he gathers himself, head shaking once as if to shake the mushy behavior off his shoulders. His hands move back to the cart as he starts to roll it down the aisle. He clears his throat, back turned to his hyung. “Seokjin-”
He’s interrupted.
“You’re afraid that you’ll fall in love with her.”
The cart comes to a sudden stop before Yoongi’s own body can, and he rams right into it. His breath catches in his throat.
Seokjin pauses and then he says, “I know.” Deep voice invigorating and hanging heavy in the small aisle, the proximity between the two boys closing as Seokjin takes a step forward.
There’s suddenly a hand on Yoongi’s shoulders, and he’s tempted to shrug it off. But he doesn’t.
Yoongi can’t bring himself to turn back towards Seokjin. He knows he wouldn’t be able to maintain eye contact, he refuses to see the way Seokjin stares at him - like he pities the younger, like he feels for him. And this is the reason he sometimes regrets telling Seokjin about Jimin.
Or anything personal about him in general. He found that the more you let someone in, the worse it hurt when they left.
Fact of the matter is, Yoongi was convinced Seokjin pitied him, and Yoongi doesn’t want to be pitied, he wants to be understood without explaining.
It’s a conundrum - he’s a conundrum.
In attempt to deny Seokjin’s claims, he lets out a laugh, head shaking a few times as he rolls the cart downwards, letting Seokjin’s hand fall from where it had been sitting. “Don’t be silly, it’s too early for any of that. I hardly know her.” The words leave a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He knew you. He did.
He rounds the corner, venturing down the next aisle. Seokjin’s right on his tail. He’s barely grabbed the next book before Seokjin is speaking, arguing his words.
“But you want to know her.” He says. “And she may be new to your life, but you care for her, it’s evident in your actions.” Yoongi tries to focus on his task, but he finds that it’s becoming more difficult as his friend continues. “You cared about her the moment your eyes landed on her in the club. Don’t act like you didn’t - I saw it in your eyes, and I saw it in hers.”
Yoongi lets out a shuddering breath, heart suddenly beginning to beat rapidly against his ribcage.
“Whether you like it or not there’s a connection between you two.”
He feels like he can’t breathe.
“Seokjin-“ He turns towards his friend.
“No. Listen to me. Alright? Just listen.” The older demands, hands curling tighter around his coffee cup, eyebrows uprising in a manner meant to get Yoongi to submit. It works, Yoongi grows quiet.
“I know you’re afraid to let your heart fall, because of what happened last time - losing someone, especially a soulmate-“ Seokjin pauses for a moment and Yoongi can see the sudden sadness that falls over Seokjin’s features. Even though Seokjin’s soulmate is still very much alive - Yoongi knows that he can understand his feelings, to an extent at least. He can understand more than anyone else could.
He continues after a moment spent recollecting his thoughts.
“Is a hard thing to cope with. I know- it hurts. But you can’t let this one horrible - terrific thing hold you back. You can’t let this one experience -“ Yoongi bites back a bitter laugh. “determine your future.”
“I didn’t let what happened with Ken hold me back, did I? And look - I have Namjoon. And we may not be the ideal pair-” Yoongi knows he means to say, “we may not be paired by fate.” “But, we’re happy. And I know a future with your soulmate, a future with Jimin-”
He sucks in a loud breath.
“Is no longer available. But it doesn’t mean that you can’t be happy again.” He smiles a sad smile. “I know you’re scared to fall in love again, anyone would be - but what if there’s a real opportunity there, with her, Yoongi? What if - what if it’s meant to be?”
Yoongi’s silent for a moment, refrains from biting out a, “It is, god you have no idea how much it is.” He lets his eyes falter to the shelves he’s supposed to be working on.
He told himself he wouldn’t do this again. That he refused to fall in love only to have you ripped away from him.
In his heart, deep down, he knew it was inevitable. Great loves don’t last, it’s been proven to him in the amount of years he’s lived. All loves didn’t last. Especially the greatest ones.
And he knows that if he opened his heart again, and fell for you - if you both fell in love, it would be a great one.
But he couldn’t bear through the pain again.
That is why he convinced himself that he wouldn’t find you, that he didn’t want to - but you had come tumbling into his life, and caused a sudden rift to his well thought out plans.
You had shown up.
You had found him too soon.
Too early on.
Before he was ready.
Before he had the proper amount of time to grieve, before he could get better - or let his heart heal. The wound of Jimin’s death was still too fresh.
And it wasn’t your fault, he knows. The universe has everything set up in a complex sort of way, always working against Yoongi. Seeming to work against you too.
But with time, came experiences. And he had had enough of them to last lifetimes. As much as he wanted - he couldn’t. Not again.
“Seokjin. I can’t. You- you don’t understand. But I can’t - I can’t do this. I can’t do it again.” He shakes his head, practically shoving the book into its place before walking ahead of his friend.
“If you run from it, it’ll only chase you and you know I’m right.”
Yoongi shakes his head, steps abruptly stopping as he turns to Seokjin again. “You don’t understand.” He tries.
“I do.” Seokjin replies. “Better than anyone else you know, I do.” There’s a brief pause, and Seokjin tries to be gentle with his next sentence. “Yoongi, not everyone you love is going to die.” It sounds like a plea.
Yoongi shuts his eyes, lips pursing together as he tries to get his mind to silence. He can hear Seokjin’s screams, Jimin’s pleads in his head. He shakes his head, eyes shutting tighter as he tries to mute them.
“Everyone dies.” He says, coldly. “The people I love will someday die, and maybe it’s inevitable.” He opens his eyes, instantly moving them to Seokjin’s. “But I’m going to do my best to weaken the list of whose death will break my heart-”
He turns back around. A clear indication that the conversation is over, that Seokjin should leave.
“Yoongi, you’re not being fair to her.” Seokjin says. “What if you both are destined to fall in love? What if you’re the one for her? She may not have your name on her wrist, and you may not have hers, but you have to admit that there’s something there. Don’t be too afraid to explore it.” He lets out a breath. “Anyone being loved by you is lucky, give her the opportunity. You’re not being fair to her if you don’t give her a chance-” He’s cut off with a cold response.
“Life isn’t fair, Seokjin. Proved it when Jimin was taken from me.”
Yoongi turns the corner then, wheels squeaking against the linoleum floor as he tries to get away from Seokjin and the impending conversation.
Behind him, an aisle down - Seokjin watches his friend leave.
Seokjin knows that Yoongi isn’t allowing himself to live. To feel all that life has to offer, and yes Yoongi may own an old soul, but he’s missing out on so many experiences.
Often, he’ll say this to his friend, and Yoongi will reply with, “Trust me, Seokjin. I’ve experienced a lot more than you.”
Seokjin doesn’t know what to make of it, he supposes it has something to do with loving and losing Jimin, or perhaps that Yoongi was granted with a soulmate that had his name, and Seokjin wasn’t.
He’s afraid for Yoongi.
Because Yoongi isn’t letting himself feel. And one day - when he’s had enough, those floodgates will snap from pressure, and his emotions - all of them, will be unleashed at the same time.
Seokjin can only hope that nobody, especially you, will be in the path of his flood’s destruction.
He doesn’t know why it was you of all people that captured Yoongi’s attention, but for some reason you had. He had noticed it in the club, and had kept noticing it the more you all hung out as a group. Yoongi could barely keep his eyes off of you at the party and when you had kissed your friend, Yoongi had almost stormed off in anger.
He saw Yoongi carry your almost lifeless like body out of that room, down those flight of stairs and out of that house.
It was clear that Yoongi cared about you.
If only he would fucking act upon it.
And with one sad sigh, followed by the shake of his head he starts to walk towards the exit.
Yoongi likes the feather blankets because they keep the cold out.
Yoongi’s never been fond of the cold.
He shivers from the cool air as he sucks on a lollipop. He doesn’t want to smoke anymore. At least not for now.
He’s just returned from work at the library, has stumbled absentmindedly into his apartment when he sees you standing in the corridor that connects the kitchen and living room. Your feet are planted onto the tiles of the kitchen floor. You’re dressed in a long sleeved sweater and a pair of shorts Yoongi recognizes as Jimin’s and his own - and it shouldn’t knock the wind out of him the way it does, because afterall, he is the one who had laid the clothes out for you to change into whenever you had awoken.
Only, he had thought you would have left by now.
And as he stares at the attire you’re wearing - Jimin sneaks back up to the front of his head.
That was Jimin’s favorite sweater, one he wore time and time again. Yoongi had hesitated laying it out for you - but he knew it would be the best fitting item of his you could wear. He wanted you to have something of Jimin’s, getting to hold a piece of him, for a short while anyway. He knew he had to get it back from you - no matter what.
He wonders how long you’ve been awake.
Your hair is pulled up into a lower bun, pink strands strewn in different directions, heels crossed at the bottom of your feet, and arms wrapped around your body.
The beige sweater is much too big on you, the arm lengths cascading way past your hands mimicking that of sweater paws - and his heart almosts stops, because the same thing used to happen to Jimin.
It amazes him at times - how similar the two of you are. He knows that he’ll look at you and see Jimin at times, and he’s not prepared for it.
The beige color is a nice contrast to your dyed locks, complimenting in a way that causes the smallest amount of pride to overcome Yoongi’s senses.
And then you’re speaking, all pink lips parting, tired eyes staring directly into his - and sometimes he wish you wouldn’t be so bold when it comes to this, because the effects of your gaze had always caught Yoongi off guard, since the first time he had seen you - rushing about in the parking lot of the University.
“Yoongi?” You question outloud rhetorically, causing his train of thought to come to a standstill. He had been staring.
“Hm?” He asks, it’s a soft hum, eyes blinking to bring him back to the current situation.
“Do you know why I’m here?”
Your voice is ruffled with sleep, meaning you had awoken not too long ago - concluding that you had slept more than half the day away and with a dead phone - he was sure you were going to get an ear full when you arrived home later that night.
His teeth come down to press into his bottom lip, hand moving to scratch at the back of his neck in hesitance. “I brought you here.”
“Yes.” You say, eyebrows cocking upwards. “That much I pieced together, but why?”
His teeth resume their place into his bottom lip as he tiptoes around what thoughts to voice, what words to articulate. Should he be the one to tell you?
Or should he leave that to Jungkook? The fucker he hadn’t seen or heard from all day.
He isn’t sure, so instead he settles for:
“Are you hungry?”
You curse your stomach the moment it growls, clearly you were starving, you couldn’t be for sure but you were positive it was late afternoon or early evening - and you hadn’t eaten anything the entirety of the day, which is hard to do when you’ve been in a deep slumber for a majority of it.
“Let’s eat something.”
He’s dragging the tail end of his silver spoon around the liquid of the cup of tea he’s ordered, his eyes and head are downcast and if you didn’t know that Min Yoongi didn’t like maintaining eye contact - with you especially, then you’d think that something fascinating was occurring in that cup of tea he’s neglected to drink.
The ride over in that little car of his was quiet - what else could you expect? Min Yoongi was quiet, you were beginning to think that quiet was apart of the man himself. And how on Earth did he expect the two of you to converse when either of you really knew what to say to each other?
Whatever was going on in his mind, it had caused both of you to end up in a little eatery, he had dragged you to a wafflehouse of all places.
You hadn’t been too hungry, you were afraid that if you were to eat, it would only come back up, but you remember that Hoseok had told you once - during one of Taehyung’s bad hangovers - to make sure that he ate, because it would help him feel better.
You didn’t know if it applied to all those who were suffering from a migraine, but you figured that it wouldn’t hurt to try. Afterall, if you hurled all over Yoongi you wouldn’t feel obligated to apologize - you suppose the newly found friendship wasn’t quite set into movement yet. And if you did puke on him - he more than well deserved it. (Even if he was at fault for your safety)
(Okay, so maybe you were being a bit of a bitch)
Your eyes skim the twenty four hour diner, it’s not one that you recognize, meaning you hadn’t ever been to it. Adopted into Korea just recently, it was your first time - but you had heard several rumors about the restaurant.
It’s small to say the least, there are only five booths aligning the wall, and a few barstools sat at the counter. You bet that if you had actually tried you could hear the conversation occurring two booths away from your own.
Your skin starts to prickle as you study the waitress that had already taken both of your guys’ order, and the familiar burn has you fidgeting where you sit, the fabric of the sweater that adorns your skin suddenly too itchy to be considered comfortable.
Your hand flys to the collar as you attempt to stretch it out a little bit, you needed to breathe. And as if on cue - to prove your suspicions correct, he talks to you for the first time since you both had been at the small table.
“Y/n?”
His voice is soft yet deep, and if you hadn’t been paying attention you’re sure you would have missed it. (You know you wouldn’t, you could pick his whispering out in a sea of people) You don’t want to focus your attention on him, but the tugging you feel when you’re around him is much stronger than your wants.
You look to him, eyes immediately flickering to his own. He seems to cower at that, just a little bit but you notice.
You raise your eyebrows in a silent question.
“Is everything alright?” He asks, and the question catches you off guard.
After a few moments spent of you trying to keep your head from spinning, you find yourself shrugging, shoulders lifting up as you redirect your eyes down to the tall glass of water you had ordered, tracking the way a water tear starts to fall down the length of the glass. You take in a slow breath, before letting it out.
“Just - confused, my memory is hazy.” You shrug again. “I- I don’t remember much of last night and I’m embarrassed to say so. Especially since I’m always scolding Taehyung for getting blackout drunk.” You move a hand from your lap to rush through the top of your messy hair, strands had somehow loosened from your ponytail and they fell into a lazy sort of style around your face.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi shrug nonchalantly at your response, with his eyes staying focused on you he responds quietly. “We all have our nights.”
Your shoulders seem to involuntarily untense at his words and you take a moment, teeth moving to glide across the surface of your bottom lip. Was this his attempt at comforting you? Even so, you were still ashamed and embarrassed, but the act will not go forgotten, that much is clear.
Your eyes move from the side of your glass as they flicker up to his incredibly dark ones. You somehow find the courage to ask: “Do you know what happened last night? Like, my whereabouts when you found me?”
Your hand falters from your hair and moves to cup your cheek, elbow sitting atop the surface of the table. You were starting to think that drinking to get drunk wasn’t such a bright idea after all.
You watch as Yoongi hesitates - how his mouth opens, you think you can hear the echo of the beginning syllable to whatever he was about to say, but you can’t be for sure. You do however hear the intake of air he sucks through his teeth.
Now was not the time for Yoongi to be picky about what to say, you had a lingering headache and a burning desire to know the events of last night. If he knew, then why on Earth would he keep them from you?
“So?” You ask a moment after he fails to say anything, your eyebrow cocking upwards for emphasis that your patience was beginning to wear thin.
His lips part again, and his eyes stay staring into yours.
After another silent moment he seems to finally decide to want to answer.
“The only thing I know is that I found you in one of the frat boy’s bedrooms. I saw you go up there with Jungkook and two of his friends.”
Your nose scrunches up - the bedroom seemed familiar, and although what he described seemed truthful you couldn’t be for sure.
You look down again, eyes now focused on the patterns of the surface of the table as you try to think back to the events prior to the bedroom.
Where had you been? You remember arriving, getting something to drink in the kitchen, or well - stealing Jungkook’s cup of vodka and Yoona shoving Tequila into your chest - and you were never ever going to drink fucking Tequila again.
You remember the squeal she had let out when she had dragged you from the kitchen and to the living room where a throng of people had gathered to play spin the bottle, you remember laughing as Jungkook and Taehyung had shared an awkward peck - the way Yoona’s lips felt against yours - and oh.
That’s right. You had kissed Yoona.
Your eyebrows uplift at the recollection, a tint of pink moving to stain your cheeks at the sudden memory. You move a finger to your lips, the pad of your pointer finger caressing the skin as you try to determine whether you had kissed anyone else that night.
And suddenly you remember - the kitchen incident, one of Jungkook’s friend’s entering and flirting with you. You manage to go from a pink to a light shade of red, cheeks heating up when you remember just how indecent you had behaved last night.
Yoongi watches from across the booth, eyebrows shifting upwards as he witnesses you piece things together, his teeth worrying into his bottom lip as he notices the pink color your cheeks.
He doesn’t ask - it’s not his business.
If you recalled correctly you hadn’t kissed him - whoever this clouded figure was, because before you could - someone was interrupting.
And then you remember Jungkook entering and looking - well to put it lightly - upset.
And suddenly, like someone had pushed fast forward on a movie a bunch of scenes flash through your mind. Creeping up the stairs, someone pushing a blanket underneath the door to help guard the smell of -
You let out a soft gasp.
Marijuana.
You let the tip of you finger pull down your bottom lip as you remember being offered and graciously accepting the blunt.
Oh fuck, what had you done last night?
The memory causes the corners of your lips to uplift into a small smile, at least that’s something you could definitely check off your impromptu to-do bucket list.
If you knew one thing it was that you were never going to mix alcohol and marijuana together. Ever again.
You squint a little bit, as if the motion will help your brain remember pieces- but you draw a blank. Everything after hitting the blunt is foggy. You look back up to Yoongi, finding that he had still been studying you. The thought causes your stomach to flutter a little bit.
Or was that just the urge to throw up?
“Was I alone in the bedroom? I mean- when you found me? Everything’s a little fuzzy.”
He hesitates again, as if he’s trying to be careful with his words.
“No- you weren’t alone.”
Your gut flips. You immediately think the worst.
You didn’t wake up with any soreness, so you hadn’t assumed that drunk sex had occurred. But- had it?
You swallow the bile as it climbs up your throat.
“Oh?” You voice comes out high pitched. “Then who-”
Yoongi must sense your panic, or maybe he can read it clearly on your face because he jumps to answer.
“Jungkook. It was Jungkook. You both were asleep on the bed in the room.”
You let out a little breath, somewhat relieved. You knew Jungkook would never do anything with you while you were intoxicated, but the uneasiness doesn’t settle, you need to hear it vocally.
You gulp, nodding slowly.
“And we were..” You move a hand to wave at your body, indicating the clothes hugging your skin. “We were dressed, right?” Your voice lowers at the tail end of your sentence, eyes moving from his and to the surface of the table.
“Jungkook wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t had been.” Yoongi says slowly, and you let out a deep breath. “And - Jungkook wouldn’t do that. So uh- yes. You both were clothed.”
You look back up, having not expected the beginning of that sentence, and before you have the chance to filter your words, they are spilling out.
“Why’d you take me to your place?” You ask.
Yoongi uplifts an eyebrow as if he didn’t understand the question. You continue on.
“I was safe, wasn’t I? Asleep next to Jungkook. So - why’d you take me to your apartment?”
He pauses for what seems to be the umpteenth time, eyes staying settled on yours as he answers. And it’s not that you were ungrateful - you were eternally grateful that he had taken care of you while you were out of it, but - if you were safe with Jungkook, why? Why had he gone out of his way to help you?
You don’t expect what he says next.
He clears his throat, hands moving to fold into each other as his fingers intertwine on opposite hands. “I had to make sure you were safe.”
The room slows.
“I saw the other two come down, and I wasn’t sure what was going on - but I had to make sure you were safe.” He shrugs. “And when I saw you asleep or passed out - I just.” He pauses, as he breaks eye contact. Head tilting down. When you follow his gaze, you can see that he’s starting to pick at his fingers. “You would have been safer at your apartment but I couldn’t find your keys, and I wasn’t going to leave you there. I just-” He stops again, eyes flickering from his fingers and back up to find yours. “Just needed to make sure you were safe.”
The room starts to beat with life again.
You suck in a breath.
“Oh.”
A pause.
“Yeah.” He responds.
Silence falls between the two of you after that. You are not sure what to make up of that piece of information. His words - his actions, what he did for you, it makes you feel cared for. Makes you feel important, light - like you may mean something to him.
“That’s what friends do, right?” He asks, and any lingering doubt you have starts to fade. “They take care of each other?”
And even though it stings a little when he clearly says the word friends, you find yourself nodding. As you had concluded a while ago - if you couldn’t have Min Yoongi as a lover, you were going to have him in any way you could: meaning the next best thing: as a friend.
“They take care of each other, yeah?”
You don’t know if he’s genuinely asking because he doesn’t know or if he just needs the reassurance. Either way you continue to nod. Your lips starting to curve upwards into a small smile again, eyes focused on his. “Yeah.” You pause, “That’s what friends do.”
A shadow of a smile starts to form on his own lips - and it’s still something that happens on such a rare occurrence, that it takes you by surprise.
You had never expected that you’d see something like that - in a genuine sort of way, from him ever again.
It feels so warm to stare at him, it feels so good to smile at him - you hardly notice the breeze sweeping across the quaint restaurant when the door opens.
And - the way he’s so openly reciprocating your stare - has you feeling giddy. Like you’ve finally won something that you had to fight so hard for. You feel the urge to giggle, but refrain, not wanting to ruin the moment that's occurring between the two of you.
You sit in silence for a few moments, no one saying a thing. Nothing is muttered as your waitress returns with both of your orders nor a few moments after she leaves. It's a comfortable silence, one where you don't feel obligated to say something to break the tension, or the awkwardness.
Just as you're about to break the ice - wanting to speak to him again, his phone rings. You watch with curiosity as he pulls it out from his back pocket, checks it, and dismisses whomever it was on the other line.
"Oh god, Taehyung is going to kill me." You say, when the realization dawns on you that you hadn't been in contact with him in more than twelve hours. "When I woke up my phone was dead so I haven't been able to speak to him yet and oh fuck."
Your anxiety returns as you move a hand to cover your face.
"I texted him last night, actually."
You look to Yoongi, astonished.
"Or well - technically it was this morning but I didn't want him to worry about-" he shrugs. "Your whereabouts."
You let out a deep breath, hand moving to fall over your heart. "Oh god Yoongi, you just saved my life."
You fail to see the amused smile Yoongi had been wearing slowly start to fade away. He clears his throat, nose twitching a little as he starts to speak again.
"You mentioned before that you've known Taehyung since high school?" He asks as you stab a piece of your waffle with your fork.
You nod, eyes focused on the food in front of you. "Yeah - we met during... I think it was my sophomore year." You smile at the thought, "He actually prevented me from falling during class when I-"
You trail off, suddenly remembering why you had been about to fall in the first place.
"Uh. I - hadn't been feeling well and was about to faint in class but he caught me. After that we've been stuck together." You lift your shoulders. "Like glue."
"And your relationship hasn't changed?" He asks, capturing your attention. "You guys live together, I heard that living with a friend can cause a relationship to deteriorate."
You shake your head. "No - Taehyung's and mine's relationship is still just as strong. I mean, he's sort of adopted the role of an older brother, even more so on the protective part than usual - but overall everything's pretty much the same."
You shrug as he cuts his chocolate chip pancakes into small pieces. "And how do you like living with them?"
You smile at the thought, eyes focused on the way his utensils move together against his food.
"Hoseok and Taehyung are great roommates, apart from the fact that they seem to always forget their keys. They're well though, couldn't ask for anyone better." You smile, eyes flickering to his face. "What about you? Do you enjoy living with Jungkook?”
You chew the bite you’ve forced into your mouth, and immediately your cheeks ache due to the sweetness leaking from your syrup drowned food.
Yoongi nods, keeping his eyes focused on the task at hand as you chew. "Actually yeah, I do. At first, when Seokjin suggested it I was against the idea, but he keeps me grounded, he isn't like anyone else his age. I enjoy it so much, that I think I may actually miss him when I move."
Your eyes widen a little, heart beat picking up, before you can stop yourself you're blurting out, "Moving?" You swallow your food, and almost choke as you feel hysteria start to overtake your body.
Moving?
He must not sense your fear because he continues cutting his food into tiny pieces. "Yeah, there's a studio apartment not far from here, maybe like ten minutes away from the apartment we're currently at-"
Your heartbeat slows, as you let out a soft breath.
"and I've always sort of wanted to try living alone."
You nod your head in understanding, your stomach settling.
"How does Jungkook feel about that?"
He grabs the syrup that sits in between the salt and pepper shakers, eyes uplifting as he once again shrugs. "Indifferent I suppose. He's known from the start." He looks back down at his place as he starts to pour the liquid over his food. "He'll miss me, he won't admit it but he will."
You smile at that.
"What about you?" He looks up again. "Do you plan on sticking with Taehyung and Hoseok?”
You think over his question for a moment, lips pursing together as you take a moment.
"I've never thought about it. I've- actually never liked being alone. It's... I don't like the feeling." You hesitate, as your eyes move back down to his plate, "Plus even if I wanted to, I don't think I could bring myself to leave Taehyung." You let out a soft chuckle at the thought of even trying to tell him you were leaving. "Or in actuality, I don't think he'd let me. He could barely leave for college."
You smile as you remember the fond memory - Taehyung's older brother forcefully removing Taehyung from your arms.
You start to nudge the tongs of your fork against your food, not really interested in what you've ordered.
"You really like him." Yoongi says causing you to look back up towards him. It isn't a question, a factual statement more than anything. "It's-" he moves a hand to wave over his face. "It's obvious in your face when you speak about him."
You nod your head.
"He knows it all. He's my best friend."
Suddenly - Yoongi pales.
Physically you watch as the color drains from his face. Your eyebrows pull together as your smile starts to wear off. You're about to ask him what's wrong - what had caused him to react in such a manner - but you backtrack, and you know.
He knows it all.
Your eyes widen upon the realization, your head beginning to shake.
"Oh, nonononono." Your drop the fork as you begin to wave your hands in an x. "No, no, he doesn't know."
The tension suddenly leaves Yoongi's body, he lets out a breath.
"Sorry." You say, feeling the need to apologize for your mistake. "Sometimes I forget to think before speaking. But no - he doesn't. I haven't told- and a-and I wouldn't." You pause. "For me, that.." You find your eyes glancing down to your covered wrist. "That's always been personal. Something that's my own - even if it's a secret shared between two-" you stop yourself, head tilting, "or in our case, three-" you don't notice him still again. "I still feel like it's something personal."
Silence ensues.
And it feels like it stays for awhile.
"I can understand that."
You don't look up at him as he says it, not knowing how to proceed with the conversation, you change the topic.
"So." You pick your fork back up. "Romance novels?" There's a smirk staining your lips as your eyes find his again.
You watch his smile return, your heart starts to ease and - you hadn't even noticed when it became uneasy and hurt. You watch with the utmost of curiosity as his nose scrunches and a light shade of pink dusts his cheeks.
"I- they're-"
"Uh huh." You say, grinning as you wave around your fork.
He looks to the side, letting out a soft huff.
Min Yoongi.. embarrassed? You'd have never expected to see such a thing.
"I just like them. Okay?" He says a moment later, his smile evident in his tone of voice.
You nod. "I get it. In most novels - everyone gets a happy ending. Everything works out in the end, you know. Different from life, so I can see the interest." You tilt your head around as you speak.
"I enjoy happy endings." He looks back to you.
"That's weird." You chuckle, "I always pictured a cold hard cynic as yourself liking the open-ending books, or preferring tragedy over happiness." You say teasingly.
"Nope." He shakes his head, eyes staring directly into your own. "I've always been about the happy endings." He speaks the words with such a genuine tone, that you feel tempted to believe him.
But - how could you when he denied you of yours so easily?
You take in a deep breath, head tilting downwards a little as you run over that thought. A sudden sadness so cold that the warmth of his stare rivals it.
He must sense the change in your mood because he doesn't say anything else regarding the matter.
How was your relationship going to grow with Yoongi when you were still holding onto what hurt?
Most importantly, how were you going to let go of something that meant so much to you?
You didn't know.
All you know, is that you want to go home.
As if he can read your mind - he slides out of the booth a moment later, wallet in hand - you want to tell him that you'll pay, that it's the least you can do, but before you can he's sauntering up to the counter to pay for the meal that you've both hardly even eaten, but have clearly lost interest in.
You've rehearsed what you want to say to him in the seven minute car ride spent trekking from the Waffle House and to your shared apartment. The ride itself has been brutally silent, and though it's evident - neither of you choose to acknowledge it.
After all, some things are better left unsaid. If there's one thing you share in common with Yoongi, it's that you both are cowards when it comes to awkward conversations or unwanted predicaments.
A moment after his car pulls to a stop in front of your brownstone, you turn towards him, finding it hard to find his face in the dark.
You stare at where you think his eyes are.
"I wanted to thank you." You say, imagine your horror when you had discovered that you hadn't thanked him yet. "Your, uh, hospitality was - I just probably didn't deserve it. And you have no idea how much I appreciate it." You nod your head a few times. "I promise I will return these clothes after I wash them."
Your lips form a slow smile as you then unbuckle your seatbelt and turn towards the handle of the door.
"Hopefully Taehyung will choose to spare me the impending argument until morning." You say, letting out a soft chuckle as the door opens and the cool night air bites at your bare legs.
Yoongi clears his throat, and you stop in your tracks, knowing he's about to speak.
“You know, the friendship you have between you two - I can tell it’s strong. The kind of friendship that lasts through lifetimes. He'll probably give you an earful, but it's because he cares. Don't take him for granted, and don't let him take you for granted."
You wait a moment, letting his words resonate within you. You nod slowly as you turn your head a little over your shoulder, not enough to completely stare at him. "I won't." You smile.
"Thanks Yoongi."
When you walk through the threshold, Taehyung jumps up from the couch, body spinning around. He looked like a predator - about to jump on you: his prey.
"I'm sorry." You say before he has the chance to speak, feet kicking the door shut. "I'm so incredibly sorry." You mean every word you speak, and your heart feels light upon seeing him again.
"My phone died, and I've been asleep all day. Nursing this goddamn hangover." You let out a soft laugh. "I'm so sorry. It won't happen again."
You don't expect him to draw a blank, you don't expect him to stay silent, and you don't expect it when he comes over, wraps you into his arms and hugs you further into his chest.
"Don't you ever fucking do that to me again." He whispers as he holds you tightly.
"I promise. I won't."
“You know - drinking won’t heal your heart.” Taehyung says after the hug is broken, after he announces he's going to bed.
“Trust me, I’ve tried.” He says as he rounds the corner, he disappears down the hallway. The click of his door into his threshold tells you that he is going to bed.
You don’t call after him, you don’t question his sudden statement - because you know what he’s referring to.
Drinking will not fill the void that Min Yoongi has unintentionally created.
He must notice that you've been drinking more recently too.
You stand there in the living room, your eyes watching the number on the digital clock change.
You’ll just have to learn to move on another way.
Later, after you've showered, changed your clothes, and are settling in your bed. After you've checked your notifications - which involved various messages from your worried friend's and the occasional drunk selfie of you and Yoona, you pull up your messaging thread and immediately go to the one shared between you and Jungkook.
[10:39 PM] You: Hey, sorry for not messaging you sooner I've been asleep all day, but what the hell happened last night?
You hesitate for a moment, silently debating whether you should text Yoongi or not, and like always, the pull (or at least, that’s what you’re blaming) is what causes you to do just that.
[10:41 PM] You: Thank you for today, I enjoyed it. :)
You go back to your previous message thread, and your heart skips a beat. The time stamp has popped up, indicating that Jungkook has received and read your text message. But there is no reply.
You’re taken aback.
You were not expecting him to completely and outright ignore you.
That's when you realize that something happened between you two that night. Something you don't remember. And whatever it was, it was drastic enough to cause your friendship with Jungkook to arrive at a sudden halt.
next part: coming soon!
a/n: what do you think happened between her and Jungkook that night? there’s a small hint in the previous chapter, haha. what do you think about her interaction with Yoongi? was this chapter enjoyable? I’m sorry for such a long wait, I hope to have the next part out sooner. as always, thank you for following this story and for being patient. I love you, feedback is always welcomed.
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