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blushoseoks · 8 years

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GREY AREA. (M) | 06

“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.

cr.

"I think that friendship is as powerful as true romantic love. And I think that friendship can save you, and heal the parts of you that you didn’t know were broken, and change your life.” - Sarah J Maas

→ Pairing: Yoongi/Reader → Word Count: 11,085 → Genre/Warnings: Soulmate AU, Angst → Chapter Index

ADDITIONAL WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: suicide is sort of insinuated.

You let out a low sigh at the vibration of your phone going off, this seeming to be the millionth time it had sounded and you were beginning to lose your patience.

You had rolled over from your side to where you laid flatly on your back, the never ending vibrations had ripped you from your slumber, something that not even Taehyung was brave enough to do.

In a groggy and half asleep state, you had grabbed your phone and scrolled through the various notifications. Most of them being a handful of text messages, ranging from Yoona's gossip, Namjoon's never ending suspicions of where you had been the past week, and finally Taehyung and Hoseok's worried texts.

You had been to class – with the exclusion of English, because even as your heart was surely broken, you couldn't afford to miss any tests or lessons. But for the past week your life was like a never ending cycle filled with the same routine of:

waking up, getting dressed, going to class, and afterward you'd walk straight home, venture straight into your room, do any homework that needed to be finished, ate enough to stay alive, hydrated yourself and then went to bed. Even if it was only six in the evening.

You hadn't been to English class the entire week, not trusting yourself to see Yoongi this soon into your heartbreak. Your grade was the best in that class, and you were sure you'd be able to catch up if need be. You could afford to skip a few lessons.

With an exhausted sigh you let your phone fall to your bedsheets, ignoring everyone for the time being. You didn't have class today, you never did on Thursday's.

You had spent the past few days, when not at school, staring blankly at your walls. Or your ceiling, laying in your bed. Trying to search for answers that just weren't there. You wanted to know why you had been paired with someone who wanted nothing to do with you. You wanted to learn of what you had done to make the Universe so angry with you, to give you such an outcome.

Was it supposed to be some sort of test? And if so, just how were you to pass it?

But your thoughts hadn't been answered, not one of them.

You hadn't cried since the first night. Hadn't cried nearly as much as you should have, you are perfectly well aware of that. It was once again, like your body refused to let you cope or understand what had actually occurred. You knew that you had been rejected by one you were fated to be with, that much was clear, but it was as though it hadn't fully registered in your brain yet. Like your body wouldn't allow you to fully process the situation in fear of what it may do to you.

So in result, you had done it again, pushed it away. The pain, the honesty of the ordeal, chose to ignore it instead of dealing with it. It was going to come back to bite you in the ass sooner or later.

And judging by how on edge you had been the past few days, the smallest of things irritating you to the extremes, the aforementioned was going to come about soon enough.

The night of the most recent argument, it was like you couldn't stop crying. You're sure that the remainders of alcohol in your body and your lack of sobriety had been at fault for how your emotions had leaked out of you, or half at fault, at least.

It was like every inch of water inside of your being was rushing out of your eyes, streaking down your cheeks and ruining every bit of makeup covering your face. You had clutched your bedsheets, screamed into your pillows, and almost made yourself sick.

Your cries had only quietened when hours had passed and the door belonging to your shared apartment was opened, and in stumbled your housemates, who you were positive were quite drunk.

You had cried until you had cried yourself to sleep.

Waking hours later, with a horrid hangover, but the pain in your head was no match for the one in your chest. You were positive that you had cried out all of the tears inside of your body that night.

And even though you had been somewhat active, going to class, taking care of yourself – if hardly eating and sleeping in your spare time could be considered of sorts, it wasn't enough to stop your friend's from observing your odd behavior and worrying.

So today was the day, even if you'd rather curl up under your blankets and not move, that you'd force yourself out of your bed and get out of your apartment.

Today was the day, it had to be - or Taehyung would start asking questions, start poking his head in more, start trying to rip answers out from you – so, reluctantly you had come to the conclusion that today you'd start to pick the pieces up. Slowly, but surely. You were going to repair what had been broken.

If it was possible.

How were you going to pick up the pieces if you hadn't fully allowed yourself to feel the devastation of a reality where you were unloved by your other half? Or well, one of your other halves. A third of you, maybe?

So as you slid out of bed, you decided that the first thing on the agenda was to shower, because you could not recall the last time you had done so, and then you were to get out of the apartment, your destination unknown.

Perhaps you'd go to the bookstore that sat in between the often visited cafe, and the flower shop you adored because of the pretty smells that filled your nostrils whenever you passed by.

You weren't, however, looking forward to human interaction. You loved your friend's, more than words could describe, but you weren't ready to be bombarded with questions that you knew they'd ask if you were to see them so soon. You hadn't fully decided what your excuse would be, unsure that the sick alibi could be believed.

So maybe, today would just be a you day.

The ignoring human interaction part was clearly not going to happen today, not when you had opened your bedroom door to find two bodies in the kitchen. Both of them belonging to your roommates.

Taehyung who was inside of the kitchen, slim body leaning over the surface of the counter, while Hoseok had been sitting in one of the barstools at the kitchen counters. At the sound of movement coming from the direction of your bedroom, two pairs of eyes had turned to stare at you, and all conversation had ceased.

It made you uneasy, how on sync they silenced. The feeling of interrupting something drifted in the air around you.

You blink.

Taehyung's movement of bringing the brim of a coffee mug to his lips had stilled when his eyes landed on you, and Hoseok's sentence had been discontinued, his mouth now hanging open.

Gathering from their reactions, it seemed that they too, had not expected you to leave your room today.

You offer them the best smile you can muster up as you walk towards the direction of the kitchen. Pausing suddenly when you're standing next to the barstool Hoseok is sitting in. Your left hand moving so your palm presses under his chin. You raise your eyebrows as your eyes connect.

“Hoseok honey,” you state, and then you move your palm upwards causing his mouth to shut. “Don't let your mouth hang open, you'll catch flies.”

You offer a playful wink, hoping that the comment will help to lessen the tension in the room. Afterward, you walk further into the kitchen and directly over to the refrigerator.

You can sense the muted conversation going on behind your back as you grab the bottle of orange juice, setting it on the counter before closing the refrigerator.

“Y/N,” Hoseok says a moment later. You turn around and walk to stand next to where Taehyung is, reaching for a pale blue colored mug sitting in the drying rack.

“Yes?” You ask, eyes flashing to his and then to Taehyung's momentarily, not being able to register what sort of question is in his eyes. You turn then, trying to get their worried stares out of your mind as you make your way back to where the carton of juice is waiting to be used.

“You..” he wavers, and although your back is to him, you can practically see the millions of questions in form of expressions appearing on his features. “Okay?” He finishes.

You wait until you've poured yourself a mug full of orange juice, wait until you've returned the carton back to it's place in the refrigerator, before spinning around on your heel and coming face to face with two of your closest friends.

You raise your eyebrows, a smile tugging at the corner your lips as you reply.

“I'm okay.” You say, nodding slowly. Your response enticing a smile to spread its way across Hoseok's lips. And even though he's smiling, you can tell that he doesn't fully believe you. But, he knows he's not as close to you as Taehyung is, and that pestering you won't do any good.

“Good,” he responds a moment later, smile still visible. “I missed you.”

His words cause a warm feeling to spread through your being, and then he takes a glance towards Taehyung who asks him with the lift of his eyebrows, a silent question. It reminds you of your parents, how well they can communicate without actually speaking.

“I'm glad you're feeling better Y/N.” Hoseok states as he slowly pushes himself out of the chair and into a standing position.

It takes you only a few seconds to respond, eyes settled on his. “Me too.”

You can see how genuine he is by the way he stops and continues to stare at you for a few moments, as if soaking the scene of you appearing to be okay, in.

And then he is mumbling something about needing to use the restroom, but you're smarter than that, you know the truth. This was an excuse to leave Taehyung and you alone.

Your eyes study the material of the fabric covering Hoseok's back as he starts to walk out of the room, and you wish that he'd stay, because as long as he was in the room, the longer you were safe from prodding and curiosity.

But if Hoseok senses your silent pleas, he doesn't do anything about them as he turns the corner.

“So,” Taehyung says when Hoseok's back is out of sight. He pushes his weight fully against the kitchen island, long arm sliding across the surface, as he holds his head up with his palm. His eyes linger far too long on yours, as if he's waiting for answers. His eyes drag down to the bags under yours, and his lips curve to the side at the sight. “Are you really okay?”

You nod your head almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, your bottom lip disappearing into your mouth as you begin to suck on it slowly. Nerves shouting through you loudly.

You bring the mug up to your lips to take a small swallow, not knowing exactly what to say.

“Y/N,” he says, his tone suddenly serious. “Are you?” His eyebrows raise as his eyes meet yours again. “You've hardly left your room this entire week, and it's starting to worry me. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Again you nod your head, setting the coffee cup down on the kitchen countertop. “I know Tae, I do. I'm okay. Just--” You stop suddenly, seeming to be at a loss for words. You didn't want to lie, you disliked it, especially doing it to Taehyung. “been down in the dumps as of recent.”

You watch as his lips purse together, as his eyebrows pull towards one another, he clearly doesn't believe you.

He sets his own mug down, as he straightens his body upwards. This causing him to intimidate you a bit more. But if it was Taehyung's intention to scare you into honesty, it was never going to work. Especially when he had the personality traits of a yellow butterfly. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“But like I've said, you hardly left the apartment all week, you haven't returned phonecalls, you've isolated yourself. I'm worried.”

“I'm getting out today, Taehyung.” You blurt out, causing Taehyung's eyebrows to furrow together. “Going to go out, maybe visit the book store. And actually I – I have plans with Jungkook.” You lie blatantly.

This causes him to blink as a curious expression starts to slide across his facial features. He studies your face, as if to make sure you're telling the truth. “Jungkook,” he questions after a moment, “why Jungkook?”

You push the cup to your lips again, letting your eyes falter from your friend to the orange liquid in the cup.

“Going to help me study, y'know – Psychology.” Is the response you offer as you tilt the cup back and let the liquid into your mouth.

He pauses again, white teeth making an appearance only to slide across his bottom lip, head tilting a bit.

“But are you sure you're okay--”

You outstretch a free arm, your hand skirting around his forearm, giving him a reassuring squeeze as you swallow the liquid inside of your mouth.

You keep eye contact as you speak as firmly as you can. “I promise, Taehyung, I am absolutely okay. I am better.” You pronounce each word as clear as you can, steering away from contractions, hoping that it'll help make your statement plausible.

His eyes don't leave yours as he studies them, and you are sure that you see something flash in his orbs. Something resembling sadness, the sight causes something inside of you to drop.

“Alright.” He simply states, head nodding achingly slowly. You remove your hand then, offering him a short and small smile.

“Just do me a favor?” He asks a moment later.

“Anything.” You state.

He hesitates once more, this time he's the one who extends an arm and rests it onto your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze, mimicking your actions from a few seconds prior.

“Y/N,” he says seriously. “Shower first, you fucking stink.”

The moments the words leave his mouth, a wide smile stretches across his face. In response, you offer him a glare so dirty, that his eyes widen in surprise, a handful of rushed out apologies slipping past his lips as he darts out of the kitchen. “It was a joke, I promise!” Echoing in the air as he leaves.

You let out a slow chuckle as you watch him run and a moment later you fish out your phone, ignoring everyone's messages, and immediately clicking on Namjoon's contact name. Sending a quick text asking for Jungkook's number.

It takes him a matter of moments to reply with the number and a response of:

“Where on Earth have you been this week?”

You shoot back a text of:

“Up to my neck in homework, I'm sorry.”

And then you open a new message, composing something along the lines of:

“Free, today. How about I take you up on your offer to help me study? This is Y/N by the way.”

It only takes moments for you to get a reply.

“Six sound okay?”

It had been raining. It was evident in the drenched pavement of the sidewalk you were walking down, clear in the color of gray that floated through Seoul. The smell of wet, lingered in the air - something you had always been fond of.

Pedestrians gripped onto umbrellas as they walked ahead or behind you, even though the rain had let up.

You didn't mind this sort of weather, not when it reflected your mood like it had today.

Your feet move slowly along the sidewalk as you avoid puddles, the events of earlier this morning replaying in your head on a loop.

You were trying to figure out just what it was that you had seen in Taehyung's eye, why was he sad? Surely it wasn't because of your state lately, but in all honesty, you wouldn't have put it past him. Taehyung's big heart often got the best of him, and he allowed people in too closely, far too easily. He gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, and him, being upset because you were upset, was not so hard to believe.

You had been out for a few hours, visiting the cafe at first and buying a lemonade with pretty colors – a mixture of yellows, pinks, and oranges. You had thought that drinking the fruity and nicely colored drink would somehow be appealing to your insides. Like the colors could magically overtake the sadness and turn it happy.

If you were crazy, you would have stated that it worked.

The second place you had visited was in fact the book store. The scent of old books making itself known as soon as you walked into the quaint shop. This too, another smell that you enjoyed a lot.

The bookstore, though small, was filled and pack with books. Shelves outlined the entire store, books were crammed together, and stacked in piles on tables of oak everywhere. It's number of books reminded you of a library.

“Y/N!” The owner of the shop, an older lady by the name of Asami had called in your direction as you walked through the door.

The call of your name had made you smile in response, throwing an arm up as you waved in her general direction.

It was clear in the way the owner had called your name that you were indeed a regular. You had felt a pull to her the moment you met her, because she reminded you of your mom. Older, wise, her voice soft whenever she spoke. And unlike most adults and teenagers nowadays, she still believed that books were essential to living.

Just like you. Just like your mom.

She was married to a man who was as polite and as kind as her. His name was Takumi, and they had been married for twenty five years. They both had been born in Korea, but that did not stop them from traveling the entire world.

They'd told you multiple times about their adventures, about the places they'd visited and the people they had met. They had shown you countless photographs, and were able to describe the displays of each country, or state, they had traveled to.

You wanted to do that, travel.

Your plan, after college, was to do just that.

And even though Korean was their native tongue, they both could speak several languages. The one that interested you the most was French.

For one, it wasn't as hard to learn as the English language, and for two, in your opinion it was beautiful.

“Takumi not here today?” You had asked as you walked up to the register desk of which Asami was standing behind.

“Afraid not, fell off the ladder the other day while trying to dust the top of the shelves, twisted his ankle, the klutz.”

Your lips part as you make a, “sss,” sound. “I'm sorry to hear about that, is he okay?”

“Yeah, he's just a big baby.” She stated, giggling while she spoke.

“I'm actually very glad you stopped by today, because we got some.”

Your eyes had widened at that.

“Don't you dare lie to me – did you really?”

A smile slipped onto her lips as she nodded. “Oh c'mon, Y/N, you know I'd never lie to you about books.”

“Show me, please!” You exclaimed eagerly.

Months ago, after finishing Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami, you had become obsessed with the author. You had scouted all over Seoul, in search of any other book by him, only to end up empty handed. You had pleaded to Takumi and Asami, that if anyone had ventured in wanting to trade or sell anything by Haruki, to buy it and that you'd pay them double.

She turns around then, crouching down and searching for something she had hidden behind a bunch of other items. When she turns back around and stands up, it's with two books in her hands. Both of them being by Haruki Murakami. Going by the titles of, “1Q84,” and the other, “Sputnik Sweetheart,” of which Namjoon highly praised.

“Oh my god!” You had squealed, maybe a bit too loudly, but Asami was not complaining. She too had actually squealed with you.

“How much do I owe you for them?” You ask as you discarded your backpack and began to unzip it, only to cease your actions when she stopped you with words.

“Absolutely nothing.” She said, causing your eyes to fly up to hers, an incredulous expression working its way onto your face.

“What – no. I'm definitely paying you for--”

“Y/N. You are a college student, a kind girl who enjoys books. I'm not going to accept a dime from you. So either, you take them for free or you don't get them at all.” She said with a firm look on her sweet face.

And after a few more retorts of playful bickering you had finally accepted the generous gift, and took both of them, enjoying the way both books felt under your fingertips.

After thanking her more times than you could count, you then had waved goodbye to her, promising to return soon.

After your visit to the book store, you had then ventured to a nearby bench as you walked down a sidewalk that was entirely encircled by cherry trees that were just beginning to blossom. You had wiped the bench off before sitting and admiring the view. And this was a sight you would never be able to get used to seeing.

A view so enticing that words and no picture could do it justice.

And you sat there for the next few hours. Studying the tree's, observing people as they passed, and reading the first few chapters of Sputnik Sweetheart.

When the alarm on your phone went off, signaling that it was near six you had began to pack up your belongings, and then reread the text message Jungkook had sent you with directions to his apartment.

You liked where Taehyung, Hoseok's and your apartment was located, because it was as though you were within walking distance of anything, Jungkook's being included.

And with one last look over your shoulder, soaking in the sight of tree's, you turned back around, heading to where the directions sent you. You found yourself thinking, as you walked down the concrete, that getting out of the house was a good idea.

Against your thoughts, arriving at Jungkook's was not the least bit awkward, in fact, if a stranger had walked into his apartment, it would have been hard for them to realize that you two hadn't been friend's for a long time.

Jungkook lived in an apartment building, about twenty or thirty minutes away from yours if you walked. By car, it was considerably less, depending on traffic.

He lived in a good neighborhood near the University, on the third floor.

Upon entering the apartment, you're met with a small but comfortable appearing living room. Furnished with a black leather couch, a matching in color recliner, and a glass table sitting in between the two pieces of furniture. A tv sat on the far wall directed in front of the furniture.

Standing in the living room you're able to see the kitchen, a table along with four chairs surrounding it. And you find yourself wondering how Jungkook, a sophomore in college, could afford an apartment of this size, and still have money for the furnishing. But you keep your questions at bay for the time being.

You were both sitting in the living room, on the carpeted floor rather than the sofa or chair, because for someone reason you always found yourself being able to concentrate better on the floor.

“So, why did you decide to take Psychology anyway?” Jungkook inquires, a moment later. Shutting his Psychology book as he pushes it on the glass table sat in front of him. You two had been studying for nearly three hours, and who knew that staring at a bunch of words, could make your body feel so exhausted? His dark eyebrows raise upwards as he questions, curiosity glinting in his eyes.

Your small in stature body is situated with your legs crossed, your textbook, which you close as soon as he does his, is sat on your lap. He is to your right, on a different side of the table.

“Well..” You say, allowing your sentence to trail off as you start to glance around the living room. It's somewhat empty, excluding the living room set, is a bookshelf in the corner of the room and a few pieces of artwork aligning the wall. Ones you've never seen before.

The first is a picture of what seems to be the outline of a woman's body. One of the woman's breasts is showing, and her backside is revealed, painted in a green-gray color. The background of the painting a dark maroon.

The painting makes your cheeks turn a bright pink, your eyes immediately moving to the canvas beside it.

The second painting is much more modest. It's a simple drawing of two arms entwined, the hands holding and the fingers interlocked. You're about to ask Jungkook where he purchased the paintings, but when your eyes come across the third painting only finding it unfinished, your question drifts.

It's a drawing of a heart, and not the cartoon like heart, but a real beating heart. It's the one that captivates you the most due to the state of it, and the details you're able to make out from where you sit.

You suddenly stand up, pushing your book to the ground as you venture closer, wanting to get a better look at the painting. Jungkook's question fading as you stalk closer to the portrait, stopping only a few inches in front of it.

Your eyes travel from uncolored aorta, a small amount of red shaded around the area, it's location near the top of the muscle, to the left ventricle, where it too is colored red, but a shade darker, resembling a burgundy. And finally to the unfinished drawing of the blood vessels at the bottom.

“Wow.” You say, at a loss for wrods. Your arms crossing over your chest as each hand grasps either elbows on the opposite arm. You turn around to find Jungkook's eyes settled on yours, a nervous expression written across his face.

“Your work?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He nods, his nose scrunching up after a second. “Yeah, I didn't want to hang them up, especially the heart since it's not entirely done, but Yoongi-hyung insisted-”

At the sound of his name your body seems to crumble a bit. Your heart beat quickening.

“that I should, said I could finish it anytime even though he preferred it unfinished for some weird reason.”

You hesitate, nodding along to his words. “Yoongi?” You ask, and you wince at the sound of your own voice venturing out a little awkwardly.

He narrows his eyes, but doesn't question it. “Yeah, we live together. Have since last year.”

And you should have figured, to be honest. The both of them were friend's after all, and like you noted earlier, there was no way Jungkook could afford an apartment of this size by himself.

You don't know what to say, so you just nod, walking back to where you sat earlier and taking a seat in the exact same spot.

“I'm glad he was able to convince you to hang them up, you're very talented.”

He offers you a genuine smile as your hands hold onto each other, the pad of your thumb rubbing around the back of your opposite hand.

For a brief moment you wonder if Yoongi is home. But surely if he was, he would have wandered into the living room at some point, wouldn't he have?

“So, why did you take Pyschology?” He asks a moment later, repeating his question from earlier.

“Well,” you say, silently thanking Jungkook for asking a question that could divert your attention easily.

“I've always had a knack for writing. And, as strange as it sounds, I've always enjoyed people watching. I guess taking Psychology, I thought, would help me become a better writer. Would somehow be able to give my future readers insights to a certain character. I want them to be able to know what the character is feeling just by the way they are sitting – and this all sounds so ludicrous now that I'm allowing the words out into the open.”

You lift one of your hands to your hair, pushing the straightened yet somewhat unruly strands backwards, hoping to arrange them into a somewhat presentable way. A feeling of embarrassment washing through your being.

Jungkook shakes his head, his smile that you're growing to be quite fond of, still in place. “Absolutely not, actually it's quite admirable.”

His sentence catches you off guard, enough to entice a snort and the raise of your eyebrows. “Admirable?” you ask, “And why's that?”

His arms raise upwards towards the roof as he stretches. The pull of his shirt upwards causing the hem of his shirt to raise just a bit, exposing some of his skin.

“Well,” he says, his head tilting to the right as he shrugs his arms back down, rolling his shoulders back. He moves positions, outstretching his legs under the table while leaning backwards as his palms settle into the carpet.

“Your passion is writing, right?” A rhetorical question. “Well most people would just focus on that as their major. But you, you take it one step further, deciding to endure hours of nonstop talking, ruthless quizzes, and a shit load of reading. Just so your readers will be impressed and captivated more by your characters. Admirable, you're so dedicated it's different.”

His words cause your cheeks to burn slowly. Never had you been called admirable for a simple action of yours. Praise, you thought, as you stared at Jungkook, was different, different from Taehyung's - but something definitely enjoyable.

“Well, what about you?” You question, now curious yourself.

His pink hued lips push together for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing the tiniest amount as he thinks over what he wants to say.

“I guess it's because my parents wanted me to go into law school, and being able to read someone's body language is a big part of being a good lawyer or attorney. Psychology has a lot to do with human actions and what not, so I figured, 'why not?'”

You wait for a few seconds after he's finished speaking, to make sure that that's all he wants to say before inverting your own words. “Well what about you?”

“Hm?”

“You said and I quote, 'I guess it's because my parents wanted me to,' well, what about you? What do you want?”

“Ah,” he grunts out, nose scrunching up again. “You caught that.”

“Honestly?” he continues a second later. “I've never given it much thought. My entire life I've always wanted to impress my parents, y'know? Always wanted them to be proud, I guess along the way, I forgot to stop and ask myself what I wanted in life.”

His words cause your lips to tug downwards into a frown. Because you could not relate, you never grew up with the feeling of never making your parents proud wavering in the air. Every grade above an F was awarded with, “Way to go's!” And sticker smiley faces. They were not disappointed when you learned to ride your bike at age eight, but instead encouraged you and celebrated the so called “milestone,” (their words not yours) when it was passed.

You find your head turning in the direction of where the paintings are hanging up, your head tilting a tad as a thought comes to mind. Your eyes linger on the portrayal of the heart as you speak.

“Well what about painting?”

“Painting?” He questions, and he sounds like the thought is absolutely crazy, you turn your head towards the older boy.

“I mean don't get me wrong. If I had to choose something as my passion, it would be painting. I love it. But with that being said, my work – they may be good, or nice to look at, but I could never make a living off of painting, Y/N.”

Your eyes narrow the smallest amount in response. “You're kidding, right? Jungkook, trust me when I say this, you've got talent. Pure, raw, talent.”

He shakes his head a moment later.

“Even if I am talented, or even considered painting for money, I heard that turning the thing you love most into your career can ruin it for you”

His statement causes your head to tilt a bit, teeth gliding across your lip.

“Well, think of it this way. What if you were to become a famous artist, Jungkook? Being paid to do what you're good at. Being paid to do what you enjoy. You'd be happy, and nothing is set in stone, y'know? Nothing says it has be what you do for the rest of your life, you're allowed to change your mind.”

He still looks conflicted, like he's unconvinced, but you're able to see a difference in his face. Like he's thinking over your words.

“All I'm saying is that you should do what you love, it's not as crazy as it sounds, you dweeb. Stop trying to make your parents proud, try making yourself proud. Don't be a shell of the person you have the potential to be.”

His eyes lift upwards at that, moving to stare directly into yours. And the way he stares at you is like he's seeing someone different. Like you're much more than just a person, like you've opened his eyes.

“I think you're one of the first people besides Jin and Yoongi to say such a thing to me. To actually believe that I have potential for something bigger and better than law. And you're practically a stranger, so just – thank you.” He smiles then, a wide and genuine one that threatens to put the sun to shame.

You lift your shoulders up into a slow shrug after that.

As you part your lips to say something more, you're interrupted, and both of your attention is captured by the sound of a door opening.

When it's opened, you find your body filling with a familiar warmth that travels through your veins, sinking into your bloodstream.

Your breath catches in your throat when Yoongi steps into view.

At just the sight of him, it causes your heart to clench uncomfortably, your breath increasing in pace.

“Oh, Yoongi-hyung you're home early.” Jungkook's voice booms through the apartment. Your eyes travel from Yoongi's wet hair, this a sign that it had been raining again, to the leather jacket drowning him, and then to his eyes, and you notice immediately the dark circles settled under them.

And to your utter surprise, you are the one who breaks the eye contact first. Afraid that he is able to see traces of how wrecked you've been from the previous days. Your brown eyes fall to the carpet to study it, finding it to be a whole lot more interesting that it had been a few seconds prior to Yoongi's arrival.

Even as you look down, you're able to feel the warmth.

“We've just finished studying, we can move to the kitchen if you want to watch--”

“No,” you interject, half shocked at your own voice. Your eyes then raise and glance towards the clock hanging on the wall across the room, finding that it reads 9:30. Taehyung was definitely going to be worried.

“I have to get going anyway, Tae's going to be uneasy. Didn't expect to be here this late, to be honest.” You don't mean for your words to venture out as cold as they do, so you offer a small smile sent in Jungkook's direction after your words are spoken.

You then slowly stand up, gathering your Psychology book where it was placed on the floor.

“No, it's fine I'm just going to my room anyway so--” You turn your head at the sound of Yoongi's voice, it catching you off guard. He stops the moment your eyes have connected, and you can see that he's gotten rid of the jacket he had previously been wearing.

Tension slowly fills the room, and you're not sure if Jungkook can feel it. But if he does, he doesn't say anything about it.

You shake your head then, quickly. Your eyes glancing to the coat rack standing behind Yoongi where your backpack resides.

“No, really I have to go.” You rush out. And then you walk towards Yoongi, swallowing the lump that had been forming in your throat as your body comes closer to his.

He looks confused at first, especially when you stop just a few feet in front of him, your eyes studying his, trying your best to ignore the heat radiating throughout your body.

“My backpack, it's uh - behind you.”

You watch as he blinks, eyes not leaving yours. And you notice that he looks different. That where the angry expressions had been placed days ago were replaced with something soft. He looked almost gentle. And for a few uncomfortable seconds all that occurs between the two of you is eyes staring into each other's. A thousand questions forming on both ends stay silent.

His hair is now fully blue, any trace of black is gone. And you want to run your fingers through the strands, you want to ask him why he decided to dye it. The blue looked nice on him, definitely, but you were going to miss the black.

And then he's ripping his eyes from yours, ripping the heat away as he takes a step to the side, making a path for you to grab your jacket.

As you step where he stood a mere moment ago, you get a whiff of his cologne. You're able to recall that it's the same one he had been wearing the first time you had seen and spoken to him.

You ignore the feeling of your heart squeezing together in your chest as you retrieve your backpack and quickly walk past him, trying your best not to stare at him even though your body screams at you to do so. You walk to the spot you had previously been sitting and retrieve your textbook, pushing it into your backpack.

Jungkook is standing now, limbs stretching outwards, his muscles straining against his tshirt. “Alright well, let me grab my car keys and I'll take you home.”

You shake your head.

“No, no, don't worry. I'm going to walk.”

Jungkook's lips part, head tilting a tad.

“It's raining.”

“No, it just let up.” Comes a voice from behind you, causing your body to tense slowly.

You stare at Jungkook, giving him a serious and firm expression. “I'll be fine, if it starts raining again I'll give Taehyung a call.”

He still looks doubtful, like he wants to argue further, but you sling your backpack onto your shoulders and offer him a reassuring smile, hoping that it's believable.

“Need some fresh air anyway.” You continue.

After a moment of contemplating whether to force you into his car or not, he decides to let you walk. Figuring that forcing you, someone he has only met a few times, into his car, could be seen as creepy.

“Alright, alright, but be careful, okay?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Absolutely, and thank you so much for today. I already feel like I'm going to ace the next test.”

“Don't mention it,” he replies. A smile that matches yours, appearing on his lips.

And then you're turning, walking towards the door, not glancing in Yoongi's direction as you pull the door open and step out. Another thanks to Jungkook slipping from your lips as you shut the door. You may have not been staring at Yoongi, but you didn't need to, to know that he was staring at you.

Cold. That's what you feel. And even though the wind is blowing softly, causing the night air to cascade across your face, strands of your hair blowing freely in the breeze, you are entirely sure that it's not the cause for why you're feeling so cold. You find yourself pulling your hoodie closer to your body for the extra weight and warmth it offers.

Your small sized hands grasp the chains of the swing you've someone managed to find. You're not entirely sure how you ended up here, in this run down park with only the nearby streetlights acting as a source of light. But you were able to get here by foot, meaning you'd be able to get home by foot. If only you could remember which way home was.

You sigh out, but you don't let the thought linger for long. It's hard to keep focused on it when your head is hanging back, your eyes watching the stars as they come into your view.

Your feet start to kick back and forth, increasing speed as you carry on. And suddenly you feel like laughing. Not the humorous type of laugh, but the laugh that happens right before the metaphorical dam breaks and the tears start to flow. The type of laugh that protagonists let out as their world starts to unravel around them. The sort of laugh that occurs when there's nothing left to do – not cry, or yell or fight.

You want to laugh because this is how it all started – years ago when you were sitting in a goddamn swing, and now, you suppose as you stare up at the sky, this is how it'll all end, you sitting in a goddamn swing.

Oh, the irony. And all you can do is swing as it starts to eat away at you.

You allow the bottom of your battered up tennis shoes to skid across the surface of the golden sand as you start to come to a stop, and reluctantly you push yourself upwards and out of the swing. Grabbing your backpack from the ground, you are about to start heading home, when, out of the corner of your eye, you spot something.

A merry-go-round.

You immediately find your body heading in the direction of the obstacle, your feet moving at an incredibly slow pace.

Once you reach the instrument, you climb onto it, letting your backpack fall somewhere near the playground toy. And then you situate yourself, finding your body fitting between two separate bars, your back lays as comfortably as it can, on the metal middle of the merry-go-round. Your legs dangling off the edge as your feet drag through the sand sitting at the bottom of the obstacle. This position gives you a much better view of the stars you think, as your eyes stare at up at the sky.

You're not sure what time it is, but you're certain that it's quite late. You had left Jungkook and Yoongi's apartment at around ten'o'clock. Hoping that the cool and fresh air would help clear your head, and rid the thoughts of Yoongi that were once again circulating your brain. But it had helped to no avail, because he was the clearest thing on your mind.

Your thoughts are then interrupted by a vibration coming from the pocket of your hoodie, for a moment you think about just letting it ring, that whomever it is will let up eventually and leave you be. But then again, it was quite late, and you still hadn't returned home. So it was probably Taehyung or Hoseok, one of them calling to make sure that you were okay.

Reluctantly you pull your phone out of your jacket, the screen brightness immediately causing your eyes to squint as they adjust to the light. And you were right, across the middle of the screen is Taehyung's contact photo, and his name.

You let out a sigh, as you prepare yourself for the lecture you are about to receive. Something along the lines of,

“Y/N, do you know how dangerous it is to be out alone?”

“Y/N where on earth are you!?”

Slowly, you slide your thumb across the green button, accepting the call. Taehyung's deep voice wastes no time before sounding through the speaker and into your ear.

“Y/N.” He simply states, his voice thick and rough, with traces of tiredness etched into it.

“Taehyung.” You reply.

“You're not home yet. Is everything okay?” He asks, even though he probably knows the answer.

You hesitate, allowing your thoughts to get the best of you. The entire ordeal had been eating away at you for days. It was obvious to everyone, because even now Taehyung, who knew never to push you for answers, was doing exactly that, proof in his words from this morning. And you thought, that maybe you'd be okay. But the few seconds you had seen Yoongi, everything seemed to dwindle, and cave in. It had felt like someone had reached into your chest, clenched their hand strongly around your heart and was continuing to squeeze it relentlessly. Trying to stop it from beating.

Of course, you thought, the day I decide to pull myself together is the day I see him.

You were sure that if it had just been a few days later, then you would have reacted differently, been able to push it away better.

“Y/N.” Taehyung's voice comes through the receiver a moment later, when you still hadn't replied. “Where are you?”

You let out an audible sigh, eyes still staring at the stars above. “M'not sure,” you mutter out honestly. “Some park, but I walked here from Jungkook's so it's not far from the apartment, I'll be able to walk home.”

You're met with a scoff leaving Taehyung's lips.

“Stay where you are, yeah? I know where you're at, I'll be there in a few minutes.” Before you have a chance to protest further, the line goes dead.

True to his word, Taehyung arrives within a few minutes after ending the phone call. Which is odd because to you, it had felt like hours that you were walking before you stumbled upon the park. But you weren't exactly in the right state of mind when you had been walking. Your thoughts had been screaming at you in loud voices that threatened to rip your hearing from you, you had been focusing on the sidewalk for the most part, surely walking in circles several times.

The first sign that Taehyung has arrived, is when you hear the familiar sound of speakers sounding way too loudly, causing loud vibrations and muffled music to slide into the otherwise quiet night. You grimace, hoping that the noise belonging to his car radio will not attract unwanted attention.

The second sign that Taehyung has arrived, is when a body jumps onto the merry- go-round, causing the side to which the majority of the weight is on, to tip ever so slightly. Your body jostling around a bit.

“Be careful, would ya?” You ask out loudly, a playfulness incised into your words. Your only response is Taehyung jumping forcefully a few times, this causing you to whine outwardly, and your head to fall back, his face coming into view almost instantly.

A smirk starts to pull itself onto the corner of his lips, as his eyes meet yours.

“Fancy seeing you here, yeah?”

You offer him a smile in response, not entirely sure knowing what you'd say if you were to try to speak at the given moment.

Luckily, Taehyung seems to sense that you're not in the mood for jokes, so instead of trying to initiate unwanted banter, he crouches down, until he's in a sitting position. He situates his legs so he's sitting Indian style, on the metal. And without asking, he slowly lifts your head before setting it back down in his lap, his legs creating a makeshift pillow for you.

And the small action only reminds you of why you love Taehyung so much. Because he's kindhearted, a gentle person, with an old soul. Taehyung does things not with the expectation of receiving something in return, but just to do them.

“So,” he says after a moment of silence. He waits until your eyes are resituated on the stars above, but before he can continue speaking you butt in.

“Please,” you state, “please, do not ask me what's wrong. Because as of right now I'm feeling a bit emotionally vulnerable and may say something that I will in fact, regret come morning.”

You intended for your sentence to come out as a joke, but once you speak it, you notice how tense Taehyung's body goes beneath you, how stiff and meaningful your words truly are.

Taehyung lifts a hand to your hair, allowing his long and thin fingers to drift through the different locks as he remains quiet. You take this opportunity to glance at him, only to find his eyes staring at something in the distance. You note that his face looks conflicted in a way - like he wants answers, but he doesn't know in which a way he can go about getting them. He knows that pushing will only make you pull.

“You know,” he says quietly. Eyes still staring at nothing in particular. “When we were in highschool, you went through that thing,” He pauses. “The one where you got really depressed, and it was scary Y/N. Because I had never seen you like that. You weren't yourself. You know? You looked – looked like a fraction of the person you once were, and I still don't know what happened, or why that occurred, but I do know that I was scared.”

He pauses again, his head finally dropping so his eyes can meet yours. “I was scared because for the longest time I was afraid that I might wake up one day, to find out that you didn't.”

His words cause your breath to catch in your throat, and you swear that you can feel your heart slow. You sit up then, your body moving to copy his as you sit across from him. Eyes staring into each others as he continues to speak.

“I felt so useless, helpless. Like there was nothing that I could do. Watching my besfriend go through something so drastic, pained me. And after all these years, I still go back and constantly think about how things could have differed if I had just been there for you.” He blinks, he seems to choke on his words then. “-- What I'm trying to say, is that I know that you don't like to let people in, or talk about your problems, or what bothers you. But, I just want you to know that I won't judge you, that I'd never judge you. And I say this, because your behavior this past week – it's reminding me of that time in highschool and Y/N, I want to be able to help this time, unlike the last. So please-”

He stops for a brief second, moving his hands to slowly grasp both of yours. The pads of this thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the back of your hands.

“Please, don't keep me at bay, not again.” He shakes his head as he continues. “Please let me help you. Let me help you in the way I never could. I know something is going on, it's obvious - I don't want to lose you again-”

But before he can finish his sentence it happens.

You aren't able to keep it to yourself anymore. The dam breaks. An avalanche occurs on a mountain. Tsunami waves crash over a village, and your emotions come pouring out of you so drastically that it stuns Taehyung into a shocked silence.

And the tears, they come, they fall, and they rush down your cheeks relentlessly. One after another, another, another. They drip into your hoodie, making it wet, they cause your makeup to smear in long streaks down your face.

For a moment the only thing Taehyung can do is sit there. because he wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting to come of this conversation tonight, but it certainly was not this. It certainly was not to see his bestfriend break down in front of him.

You cry, and it's not quiet cries. It's loud and it comes in forms of tidal waves that threaten to sink you. It comes in incoherent words, and pleading. Pleading for Taehyung it just make it stop.

To make the pain that rests deep within your heart to disappear.

Because it hurts. Hurts so badly. And all you can see in your mind are pictures of Yoongi in form of a video replaying over and over in your head.

From the first encounter, eager lips and rushed words. The way he looked at you, to how he said you were enthralling. To the second, which was filled with angry accusations and rejection. To the car, where he had thrown horrid insults to you, and denied you any chance of even a friendship, of being able to prove yourself valuable enough for his time. And finally to the last. From the dark circles under his eyes, to the softness in his gaze.

It hurt.

It. Hurt.

One of your hands breaks away from Taehyung's and flies to your chest, your fingers clenching around the fabric of your sweatshirt as if you're trying to claw your way to your heart, so you can rip it out and not feel the way it's crumbling inside of you.

“Please make it stop,” you cry. “Just make it stop. Make it fucking stop.” Anger says as it forces its way out of your mouth.

Everything you had kept at bay since the day of meeting Min Yoongi is rushing out of you, every feeling you had pushed back, every thought you had refused to think, all of the numbness was wearing off and everything flew into you like knives piercing your skin.

The last thing you remember fully that night, the part that does not come in pieces, is Taehyung's arms moving around your shoulders, tugging you into his chest. He presses his lips to your hair, as he starts to rock your body back and forth. He is trying to soothe you, trying to get you to calm down as much as he can.

“You're going to be okay Y/N.” He whispers. “I've got you. I've got you. I've always got you.” His voice is shaky, and he's squeezing you tightly, in an embrace so warm that you never want to leave it.

The rest of the night is a blur.

When you wake up the next morning, your head is throbbing. It's a pain you've never experienced in that particular area before. You've had headaches before, but this could not be classified as a headache.

Your eyes are sore too, or so they feel that way. When your fingertips move to graze across your eyelids, it stings.

You slowly sit yourself up, and with one glance around the room you're in, you immediately recognize it as your own.

But you have no recollection of anything that took place after you had started to cry at the park.

It almost scares you, having no memory for a certain extent of time. You look down your body to see what you are wearing, and you are not wearing what you were the night before.

Gone is your hoodie and your jeans, and instead you are in one of your oversized tshirts, one that is long enough to be considered a short dress. One that absolutely drowns you and covers your lower half a somewhat modest amount.

You turn towards your black nightstand, trying to see what time it reads on the clock, and your eyes almost pop out of your head when the white numbers across the screen read 4:03 PM. Just how long had you been asleep?

Next to your alarm clock is a glass of water, with two pills you recognize as pain killers sitting next to it.

You down the pills almost as quickly as your eyes had laid on them, the water – a nice feeling on your dry mouth and throat. Once the water is set back down, you decide that you better get up and find out the events you are missing from last night. But you halt when the door to your bedroom opens, only just a smudge.

A figure appears through the crack, your eyes squinting a small amount to try to put a name to the disfigured face, but when the figure sees that you are awake, the door is pushed open enough to reveal Taehyung standing in the middle of the threshold.

“Hi.” You say weakly as he slowly walks in, shutting the door behind him. You're not sure what to do – you feel naked, for some reason. Like Taehyung can see your entire soul as clear as day.

“You feeling okay?” He says in a whisper as he takes a seat on the bed a few inches away from you. His head turns to face you as your eyes meet.

You offer him a meek nod in response, unable to form words.

“I know you probably have a lot of questions about last night --” he trails off for a moment, eyes not glancing away from yours. “So ask away, and I'll explain.”

You hesitate, swallowing the lump that has formed in your throat.

“Um – what, uh, what happened after the park? The last thing I remember is starting to cry, but everything after that isn't well, isn't there.” You state, referring to your thoughts.

He pauses, taking a deep breath as he moves his eyes away from yours.

“You were a mess, to put it lightly.” His voice lowering an octave. “I have never seen you like that, but that's not really a surprise, is it? You well - I managed to carry you to the car, but you didn't stop crying the entire ride home, or even after we got here. I was able to get you in the bathroom just in time for you to throw up. You uh, you had made yourself sick.”

Your lips purse together, embarrassment, shame, and other emotions rushing through your body. You let your head hang down, your eyes staring at the comforter covering your bed.

“We got home around two, and you threw up on and off again until three thirty. You must have lost thirty pounds, there was just so much – and I'm not sure how you were able to do it considering you've hardly consumed enough to stay alive this week.”

It's quiet then. For a few minutes, your hands resting flatly against your bed covers as you let out a slow breath. “I am so sorry Taehyung.”

He ignores you though, starting to speak again.

“I need you to tell me what happened, Y/N. Because you scared me last night. Scared me so badly I almost called your parents.”

At that, your head immediately lifts, eyes finding his as panic starts to fly across your features. You loved your parents, but you didn't want them to worry, you didn't want them to see you as incapable of taking care of yourself.

“Don't worry,” he rushes out after studying the panic strewn across your face. “I didn't. But I nearly did. So I just -” he lets out a breath. “I know it may seem somewhat unfair, but I need answers. Because whatever made you react the way you did last night, it isn't nothing, and it was so bad. You have to tell me.”

Before you can register your own words they rush out.

“I'll tell you Taehyung.”

This shuts him up immediately, eyebrows furrowing. Probably a shock to him, and if you were being truthful, it was a shock to yourself. But everything had been eating away at you, he was right, you were falling back into old patterns.

And it was too late to try to pass it off as nothing, you had broke down last night, he knew it wasn't nothing. You weren't going to keep him fully in the dark.

“But, you can't tell anyone.” You say firmly. “I'm serious. No one.” You state, as your stomach starts to churn from nervousness.

He nods in agreement.

And then you're searching, searching your brain for answers. Because you desperately want to tell him the truth, but you won't be able to do that while keeping Yoongi's identity a secret. If you were to tell him what had occurred between the two of you, Taehyung would flip out. His over protectiveness would fly into overdrive, and he'd possibly beat Yoongi's ass. This ruining any relationship between Namjoon and Jin, and you couldn't cause that, you absolutely couldn't.

You take a deep breath, eyes drifting to Taehyung's leg, watching as it bounces quickly. Something he does when he's nervous. A tell-tale sign of uneasiness.

“The night we met Seokjin and his friend's, we were at a club, remember?” You ponder.

Taehyung mutters out an, “Mh,” in response.

“I – I don't know if you'll know, because you weren't really around, but I left early that night.”

You look up when you are met with silence, to only find Taehyung's head nodding slowly, this a gesture for you to continue, to explain further.

“Well it was crowded, as you know. Meaning there were multiple people and – the point is that, that night, I,” you let out a deep breath, head tilting backwards as the fabricated lie continues to form in your head. “I met uh, I met my soulmate.”

Taehyung's bouncing leg had stilled at that, him letting out a shaky breath once the words were spoken. His eyes had directed themselves to yours, staring at you in shock.

“And, to put it lightly,” you say, head raising, trying to blink back tears that were trying to form in your eyes at just the thought of the situation between Yoongi and you. “I was told that a relationship between the two of us, would never work out.” You gulp. “I was rejected by one of my soulmate's.”

You were expecting an angry scold from Taehyung, for withholding this information from him, or perhaps maybe comforting from him. Whatever you were expecting, It was definitely not the tears that slid down Taehyung's face once you had stated the last of your sentence.

“What--” you had muttered in disbelief, your right arm flying outwards, so your palm could rest comfortably against his back.

“I'm- I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you.” He says, rushed words leaving his lips. “Maybe if I had stuck around, or if I wasn't out getting drunk I would have noticed, oh shit,” he's able to state in between words. Tears streaming down his cheeks.

And even though he wasn't as unemotional as you, you had only seen him cry a few numbered times. And every time you witnessed it, it reminded you of a baby. Innocent, and pure. The sight was heatbreaking.

Realization hits him suddenly. “That explains why you were acting so off the next week. God,” he lets out a breath as he runs a hand through his unbrushed hair. “I-- I should have pushed. I'm so sorry for being such a lousy friend, I should have been there Y/N.” He says, eyes now rimmed red. Rings starting to encircle the area.

“No-” you are able to choke out, because this is the last thing you wanted. Your bestfriend blaming himself for something that absolutely had nothing to do with him.

Your eyes fill with tears as pure bewilderment rushes through your form.

“Taehyung,” you draw his attention, his glossy eyes staring into yours. “Don't, alright? Nothing could have been done that night to make things happen differently. You being there or not, wouldn't have changed his mind. It's-” you breathe out, “It's what the Universe wanted, right? The Universe has a thing for letting stuff play out. It's not your fault so don't you dare blame yourself.” A breath. “And besides, you know me, Tae, you know me. You know I don't like to talk about things that upset me. You know that there's no way I would have told you something if I didn't want to- and besides, you weren't the one who rejected me without even knowing me.”

He runs the back of his hand across his face, wiping up some of the streaks of tears that stain the skin. He nods his head in retaliation to your spoken words, sniffling every few seconds.

“Whoever he is, he's a goddamn asshole.” Taehyung says sternly, head turning to face you. “He sounds like a rude fucker.”

Your lips start to push down in a frown, eyes staring deeply into his.

“No he's not, or maybe he is, I'm not sure. All I know is he has his reasons, I suppose. As upset as I am, there's nothing I can do about it. This is what the Universe gave me.” You shrug. “But I hope when I find the other one, he'll let me introduce myself properly before deciding he wants absolutely nothing to do with me. If not, I'm going to have a very heated discussion with the star we were created from.”

Taehyung had nodded along to your words, the smallest smile you have ever seen on his lips, forming slowly around the edges.

“Just know, that no matter what happens, whether you end up with one of your soulmates or not - you will always have me.”

A smile pushes at the corner of your lips in response, because you vaguely remember him saying something of the sort the night before.

“Always.” You agree.

Pt. 07

A/N - Platonic love is as important as romantic love. I hope I was able to somehow portray this in this chapter, because that was what this chapter was mostly about. Whether it be from Hoseok excusing himself so Taehyung could get the reader to open up, or to the reader trying to get Jungkook to do things to make himself proud, or to how Taehyung was there for the reader when she had her break down. Romantic love isn't everything, so remember to keep your friend's close, and also don't forget about them when you are in a relationship! Anywho, I must apologize for how long it took me update. I am well aware of how long it was and I can't apologize enough. I don't want to make excuses, but a lot of things occurred this week, one of them being *cue dark music* writer's block! Luckily, I was able to overachieve it. I hope that this 11k chapter (i am SO sorry) somehow makes up the wait! I am going to try to update weekly, but no promises! I must thank you all again for the messages I've received. Whether it's a one sentence message or a five paragraphed one, I enjoy all of them, so much. From everyone who reblogs, to everyone who hearts, to everyone who reads - I love you all, and appreciate all of the support. Please feel free to send me your opinions, your theories, or your thoughts, I love receiving all sorts of feedback. And okay, it's so hard to write Yoongi this way. Especially after he goes live and he's so cute. The way his nose scrunches, and his eyes. Jesus. Is it obvious who I bias? Anyway, this is gettingto be much too long. But just -- thank you, really, to everyone reading. I hope this chapter sufficed and pleased people, and I am sorry if it didn't. Have a fantastic day/night, and stay safe!

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