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fluffyydumplings · 3 years

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Your Fluffy Little Dumpling

Gone - Part 2

Summary: Who knew you’d end up meeting your childhood best friend once again. Who knew you’d end up meeting him while racking your brains up in another chaotic year of high school. Yet after all this time, he remains the same boy you’ve remembered. Cheeks fluffy as clouds, affection for dumplings still strong as ever, and sleepy as the days go on. Sure.. He’s a little grumpier now, but that does not change the fact that he's the cutest little thing to ever waddle into your life.

Word Count: 7.9k

Genre: poly!au / sculptor!yoongi x traveller!reader / angst / fluff/ poetry / romance / unrequited love / childhood bestfriends to lovers / reunion / idiots in love

Warning: Heartbreak/ mutual pinning / toxic ex-friend (mentioned twice) / being invisible / profanity / doubt

A/N: One month and Four days. Why did it take so long? First of all: Assignments. Second of all: Online classes. Third of all: Lack of Motivation. Last of all: Life.. :].. I reread this and it was beautiful. I genuinely like it, even though I read it over a good five times already.

Thank you to @dazedbypark who called my story adorable. I know you haven’t read the whole thing yet, but you’re working on your own amazing fic. The fact that you volunteered to read my work and did so to a minimal state brings joy to me. :)… - a smiley face for you.

Thank you @heejojo who gave amazing feedback. Your comment brought a smile to my face. I’m glad you like the dynamic I have created for my characters. :)… - a smiley face for you.

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‘Du yu like tis,’ your tiny hands offer a piece of milk chocolate to the equally small boy sitting on the swing.

‘Choco-lit?’ he examines the package.

‘Oh.. Is tat wat it’s called?’

‘Yeah..’ he nods.

‘Do yu like choco-lit?’ your face contorts at the unfamiliar word grazing the tip of your tongue.

‘I like dump-ings better,’ he confidently declares, ‘No.. I love dump-ings..’

‘What are tose?’

‘You don’t know wat tey are?’ he opens his mouth in shock, as though he was horrified of you.

‘No,’ you shake your head.

‘My mummy makes them evy-month.. You should come over and t-uvay them sometyme...’ he pauses, realising that your name is still a mystery.

‘Y/N.. Y/Niee,’ you grin wildly, his mouth following in return.

‘Yu?’

‘Yoongi,’ the boy tells you his name.

‘Yoonie.’

‘No.. Yoongi,’ he corrects.

‘Yoonie,’ the dictionary in your head only knows one word, ‘Yoonie.’

‘Pine.. Yu can call me tat,’ he pouts.

‘Kitty.. Yoonie luks like a kitty,’ pink creeps up his fluffy cheeks.

‘Yu are funny.. Y/Niee,’ your name coming from him feels different. It isn’t compressed with resentment like when your mother calls you. It sounds sweet coming from him. Like choco-lit.

So sweet it makes you sniffle. Tears running down your cheeks like water running down a cliff.

‘Oh?.. Why are yu cwaying?’ concern reaches his eyes, ‘Was it because I culled yu funny?’

‘Nu one ever calls mi Y/Niee.. I like that.’

‘Y/Niee wunt to come over my house for dump-ings?’ he offers, ‘We cun hulp mi mummy make them.’

‘Where is your house?’ you wipe your sobs away.

‘Over tyher,’ he points, ‘I just moo-ved here.’

‘Did yu ask your mummy if I could come?’

‘I’ll just tvell her that yu are mi best friend.’

‘Best fviend?’ your eyebrows furrowed at that.

‘Yeah.. I like you a lot, Y/Niee,’ he nods, his eyes sparkling like crystals.

‘I never had a best fviend before,’ you mutter to yourself.

‘Then.. I’ll be your first, and last,’ he shows his pinky, ‘Best fviends forever.’

Your fingers meet as a promise to always be by each other’s side. You turn from six years old to eleven. That's when he moved out of the neighbourhood. The same night you balled your eyes out like crazy because your fluffy little dumpling boy was now as good as gone.

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Seven years after ↴ (High School)

‘Y/N..Y/N..’ the teacher tries to catch your attention as you continue to doze off.

‘Yes?’ your eyes barely manage to open.

‘There‘s saliva dripping down your chin,’ she informs you, the laughter of the other students that follow a nuisance to your ears.

‘Quiet down everyone! As I have said earlier, we have a new student joining us.’

‘Ooh,’ the boys fill with excitement.

‘Do you think it will be a boy?’ the girls in the back chatter among themselves.

‘Do you think he’ll be cute?’ one of them questions.

All of that is interrupted by, ‘Quiet down everyone!’

‘Please come in,’ that is when the door opens, revealing a tall, fit, yet adorable-faced figure dressed in the school uniform.

You want this moment to last forever - even if it is a dream. Because if it was, you don’t want to wake up. You'd rather stay stuck in this made-up universe for as long as he exists. For in all of those years of staying up until two just to study for another stupid test, today may be the best day to ever come.

‘Do introduce yourself,’ she gives away one of her: ‘you better behave or I will be a bitch’ smile.

Was this him? Because damn... Even the finest of aged wines and liquor couldn't compare. His smile brings shame to all of mankind.

‘Nice to meet you all. I’m Min Yoongi,’ his voice was thick as paste, and his words were as clear as the sky outside.

‘Woohoo!’ those who gawk their eyes at him go unnoticed by you, for if what they were doing was considered gawking. What you were doing was absorbing. Absorbing all you could take before it would be taken away from you.

Yoongi was as stunning as a butterfly in daylight and as alluring as a firefly against the prussian blue sky. Eyes lightly shaded, lips carefully moulded, and cheeks carved exquisitely to utter perfection.

‘You can sit there. Next to Y/N,’ your heartbeat can be heard loud and clear - for the excitement, fear and anticipation was intense like those last moments where paint is drying on a canvas. Where no one knows what could go wrong. So intense you could have sworn the person sitting in front of you knew of how your heart drops and rises every few seconds.

You walk around with an impassive expression scribbled all over your face. Like an abstract painting that would appear indecipherable and confusing at first glance, and familiar to those who spend hours staring and trying to figure the meaning behind it all. The two creases above your brows when you're focused on work, the way your cheeks puff out when you smile, the adorable noises you make whenever you sneeze, and that frown that visits you when the teacher sets another ridiculous assignment. You were such an interesting character, yet no one wanted to know you or tried to know you. Except one, Min Yoongi.

The creaking of the chair and the sound of him sitting down startles you. But you refuse to show that. You refuse to wear your heart on your sleeve like half of the population does. You remain calm and untouched on the outside and an explosion of feelings on the inside. You were a tree with remarkable chiffon-white bark overflowing with despicable critters. And half of you very well knows that somehow he’d still be able to see right through you. As though you were made of transparent glass, and your thoughts floated above your head like a rubber duck placed in a bathtub. Yet you still tried.

‘Hi,’ that’s when the wooden walls build across you cracks into pieces, for as of right now you couldn't help but grin foolishly. A child in a candy store, the man before you a colourful lollipop made entirely of sugar. The only thing preventing you from him was your mother who doesn't let you indulge in the sweet crystalline substance. But.. a lick wouldn’t hurt. Would it?

‘Remember me?’ his fingers linger over his head, a habit he developed when he was nine.

‘Yoongi..’ just like the day he said your name for the first time, your pretty voice almost brings him to tears. But, crying in a classroom full of strangers and on your first minute in a new school wasn’t what he wanted.

‘Let’s catch up later,’ you direct your pencil at the board, encouraging him to focus.

‘I have to graduate.’

Lies.. Lies.. You never listen. You simply needed time to take in the fact that your childhood best friend was sitting next to you. That he was real, and that if you touched him he wouldn’t disappear.

So, as he focuses his eyes on the teacher, you decide to poke his shoulder to test out the theory. People can call you dumb all they want, but meeting someone you’ve lost seven years ago is not an everyday occurrence.

‘I won’t disappear even if you keep doing that.’

Damn it!! That fucking gummy smile!! Cuteness metre overload!!

‘Oh,’ you slap your hand across your forehead upon realising how foolish you sound and seem.

‘So.. You like sleeping in class?’ he smirks, ruffling your hair as though so much time hasn’t passed by already.

‘What do you mean?’ you protest, refusing to fall victim to his accusation. Which was very much a fact if you’d say so yourself.

‘Y/niee.. The door allows you to see everything in here. It's made of glass,’ your cheeks redden at this. Not because you’ve been caught, but because, ‘Y/niee..’!!!

‘Haven’t heard that name in a while,’ you confide the truth to him.

‘Why? Don’t your friends call you that?‘

Ouch!

‘I don’t have friends,’

The pitiful girl who no one knows. You sure play that role well.

‘Oh.. Sorry,’ he scolds himself in his head, knowing that he has entered bulldog territory. It's only been ten minutes, yet he’s already fucked up. (Not that he was counting the time spent with you or anything.)

He just assumed you would have many friends. I mean.. From what he remembers - you were one lovely little girl. Unless you have turned into a mean witch of some sort that is. He doubts that though, not by how your teeth show as you chuckle in silence and how you are a nervous mess in front of him. And even if you were a mean which, he couldn't care less. All he knew was that you were the six-year-old girl he brought home to make dumplings with.

You might have changed over these years. But regardless of what, you’re his best friend. His Y/niee...

‘It’s okay. It's perfectly fine of you to assume I have friends. Everyone else has one or two.’

‘Speaking of friends... I’m sure you’ve got many. You’re cool,’ the compliment plops two pink dots on his cheeks, the pigment spreading across his face.

‘I had two in my life,’ he shows you his fingers.

‘That’s a lot,’ you tell him.

‘And then there's you.’

And then there's you.

Why did that sentence make you gulp slightly? Maybe it was because of the countless questions wandering around in your mind. What were you to him? Just a decent childhood memory to forget? A cherished childhood memory engraved in his heart? Something he had only come to remember today?

‘My best friend,’ that made you smile, contrasting to that of your usual poker-faced and empty canvas-like expression. The artist hovering from above you with his brush stretching your lips as wide as he could, as though he was a puppeteer and you were a marionette doll with no mind or heart of your own. But the act wasn’t as horrendous as it seems to be. For you don’t regret smiling.

‘Looks like the promise..’

‘Y/N, and Yoongi!’ your teacher has never irked you this badly. But.. as they say, you never know what happens.

‘Yoongi,’ you poke him lightly.

‘Smile,’ you whisper, his ears catching on and obeying your orders.

‘No talking in my class. If I catch you one more time detention it is for you, Y/N.’

‘Yoongi.. I expected you to behave. But.. I guess Y/N got to you,’ you don’t miss the scowl she sends your way.

‘Y/N’s at it again,’ those were the last words she uttered before returning to her lesson.

*Ring*

Looks like the bell was on your side this time.

‘Class is dismissed,’ her pointing stick is shoved into her tote bag, her heels disappearing at the door.

‘Huhh.. Finally,’ students sigh in relief.

‘Y/Niee.. Wait for me,’ he holds your hand in his, your body relaxing immediately at the contact.

‘I’m sorry for getting you in trouble. I’d understand if you’d want to avoid me,’ that breaks his heart.

Why on earth are you saying that?

‘No.. Why would I do that?’

‘That’s what happened years ago. After I was deemed as the “trouble maker”, my friends all avoided me.’

These “friends” of yours. If he were to ever come across them, he’d have to have a little chat with them. Or in his language. Tie them up in rope, and make them confess to their sins.

‘I’d never let our friendship fall for such silly things like that. You’re worth much more than that,’ he pats you on the head.

‘Whoever these “friends” of yours are.. They don't deserve you. A friend will stick with you through thick and thin. The fact that they let go of your hand for a mere rumour speaks for everything!’

‘Why do you sound so angry, Yoonie?’ you tease.

‘Because you don’t deserve this,’ he replies honestly.

‘Now.. Let's get onto something more light. Our first day together shouldn’t be spent on such gloomy and meaningless topics.’

You nod in return, pleased in knowing that after all of this time there is someone willing not only to stay by your side but to stand up for you.

‘What’s your favourite colour?‘ he feigns unfamiliarity, even though the colour he believed to be your favourite is frolicking across the tip of his tongue. His eyes crinkling in utter joy at the recollection of you and your many purple bracelets.

‘Black,’ time changes people, he forgot that.

But change is what we all need in order to grow. He’ll frown for a few days, realising how he doesn't know you well like he once did. Nevertheless, he’ll get to know you. The present version of yourself.

‘What’s your favourite movie?’ the questions don't stop rolling in.

‘Oh.. Come on! You know how easily distracted I get,’ you grimace at his faked oblivion. It might have been years since you have met, but regardless of what, you still know him to a certain degree. No matter how many times he’d dip himself in pretend curiosity, you’d still be able to distinguish whether he was playing with you or genuine in his actions. Right now he was digging through a mine filled with gems, and putting on an act of not being aware of what lies underneath. A part of him very much knows the answers to these questions and is just testing whether he is right or not.

‘Do you have a crush on someone?’ his babbling that doesn't come to an end is a disguise used to hide the real motive behind it all. The crush he had ever since you both turned eight, and the one that never managed to fade away.

He has to know this. To know whether he’s a possible candidate to snatch a place in your heart, or if that spot has already been taken.

‘Yes,’ those words splatter at his once sparkling hope, replacing it with despair.

‘Who?’ he struggles to hide the frown knocking at him, yet a teasing smirk manages to caress his face.

‘... Kim.. Kim Taehyung,’ lies spill from your lips. The last time you spoke to Taehyung was three years ago - when he forgot to bring his pencil. The last time you got a glimpse of him was two weeks ago - when you accidentally bumped into him.

Either than that, Kim Taehyung is invisible to you as you are invisible to him.

‘The school’s heartthrob?’ looks like he’s got another reason (aside from the boxy-smiled boy’s continuous persistence of wanting to be friends) to hate the fellow.

‘Mmhmm,’ you nod, wishing ever so desperately that he doesn't catch on to your lie. He probably already found you pitiful enough. Why add more to the hundred reasons to feel bad for you? Making up a little crush wouldn’t hurt anyone. Or will it?

‘He’s my neighbour. I can talk to him for you. If you’d like me to that is,’ as much as he wanted you for himself, and as much as he wanted to fight for you. How was he supposed to do so? Especially when your heart already has been set somewhere.

For you to be happy and well. That's what he wanted most. And even if that happiness had to come in the form of a tall, and brown-eyed teenager dressed in denim. So.. It was.

Min Yoongi is a good judge of character, and he knew that Kim Taehyung was nothing but a good-looking lad dragged into the spotlight simply because his nose was prominent, his eyes were alluring, and his deep voice was regarded as attractive.

In the name of love, Min Yoongi was one big idiot who doesn't know how gifts work or how particular signs meant. He’s only been in love once in this nearly two decades of his. And that's to you. Therefore, How does a man who is clueless as a chipmunk get the girl? He screws up and learns from it.

‘You don’t have to,’ it’s either he fell for it, or he’s pretending not to know. You don't want neither. You just want him to push you against the wall and claim your lips as his.

‘We only have barely a year left before the bear gets away.’

‘I’m not that desperate. You sound more desperate than I am.’

‘No, I’m not. Why would I be?’

Only for Yoongi, you were.

Only for you, he was.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

‘Kim Taehyung!’ his words pump up with resentment like a balloon filled up with the wrong type of gas.

‘It’s for Y/N.. It’s for Y/N.. It’s for Y/N,’ he chanted it in his head.

‘Taehyung-ah!’ more friendly, he thought.

‘Hyung!! You have finally decided to glance my way,’ he doesn't bother to hide his smile, his eyes beaming in utter glee.

‘We can be friends.’

Overjoyed and a level up of what over the moon felt like. Kim Taehyung was happy. Very happy.

‘Reallly?’

‘Yes,’ he’s already feeling guilty.

‘Taehyung, let me be honest with you. I came here because of Y/N,’ that’s when his face drops, shades of grey and white splattered across his expression.

‘Oh..’ he’s an open book.

‘She likes you. Will you do me a favour, and go out with her?’ half of Yoongi wanted him to say yes, and the other half didn't.

‘So, you’re not here because you want to be friends?’

‘No,’ he was already asking for too much, the least he can do was tell the truth. ‘You can think ab-’

‘I’ll do it,’ this was a great opportunity - too great for him to pass by, ‘When’s the date?’

‘Tomorrow, 4 pm. Cafe Bonsai.’

‘I’ll be there,’ that’s it, Taehyung’s big plan. To get to know Y/N, make her tell him about Yoongi, and use that information to get his crush to fall head over heels for him.

That's how you ended up seated here, a bowl laying there with the remanence of spaghetti that was once dressed in bold red sauce as you face no other than Kim Taehyung.

‘I got you a date with you-know-who,’ Yoongi informed you, holding hands with the woman he introduced you to mere seconds ago. That ignited a fire in you. ‘Make Yoongi Jealous.. Steal Yoongi’s heart,’ your head went on, a faux grin sent his way.

‘So.. Will you tell me about yourself?’ he wakes you up from your daydream with a genuine question sculpted from his child-like curiosity and fondness towards people.

‘My dream job is to travel around the world. I’ve been saving up ever since I could get a part-time job,’ a perplexing smile pinches your lips. Was this too much to tell a person you've barely talked to twice?

‘That’s cool. Mine is to be a saxophonist,’ he pauses, ‘Just kidding. That was a silly childhood dream of mine. My dream job is to paint. I especially have an admiration towards impressionism.’

‘That’s cool,’ you were beginning to see him in a whole new light. The filter he puts on to play the role of the school’s heartthrob forgotten and put aside.

Both you and he are more alike than you’d like to admit. Those who hide behind a facade tend to forget who they are beyond it. But both you and him weren’t like that. You can fool the whole world, but you can’t fool yourself. For, when they all turn their heads away you’re simply dear old Y/N who eats cookies from a tin and he’s Taehyung who mixes paint in a can.

‘It is?’

‘Of course, it is,’ you nod in agreement.

‘Everyone else doesn't seem to agree. To them, art is the ticket to starvation and poverty,’ his fist tightens at the image of his parents throwing away his art. The blood, sweat, tears, and emotions that come along with them all tossed aside and replaced with resentment, anxiety, and pain. The textbooks clustered in numbers and signs a replacement that will supposedly lead to: ‘the key to his success.’

‘Ignore what they say. You know what is best for you and what you want and need better than anyone else does. If you want to paint, paint,’ your heart may beat for Yoongi, but your words aren’t limited to him.

‘Thank you, Y/N.. I’d love to talk more. But, it’s late now, I think we should part ways,’ he stands up from his chair.

‘Goodbye, Taehyung.’

‘Call me Tae.’

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Five months later ↴

‘Y/Niee... Come over here,’ Seori, Yoongi’s sixth girlfriend of the year, makes you scoot over to join the others.

But, wait a minute! Y/niee!!?? Only Yoongi gets to call you that. How dare-

‘1... 2... 3.. Cheese!’ you settle your arms around Yoongi and Taehyung’s hip, trying your best to not strangle her.

How long was this one going to last? Four days? Two weeks? One month?

Well.. little did you know, this would be the last of her. Turns out, Yoongi didn't like the whole ‘Y/niee’ situation just as much as you did. In his words: ‘How dare you call my best friend that! Just because I call her that, doesn't mean you can. We should end this. I don't like people like you. People who think with their feet.’

You might think. Isn’t that a silly reason to break up with someone? In Yoongi‘s world, it wasn’t like that. He was dating simply because you couldn't be his.

The amount of women he has left broken-hearted has earned him a name - pretty boy. Legend has it, that the pretty boy is easy to fall in love with but hard to make fall in love back. He has innocent features and round cheeks, yet no heart to be found. Once you mess up once, out the drain you go. And when we say mess up, we mean: accidentally bumping into pretty boy’s best friend because your shoelaces were untied. You get the picture.

‘Where are we Yoongi?’ you observe your surroundings, taking in the sculptures that are displayed everywhere.

‘Welcome to my workshop,’ a wave of satisfaction and pride hit him in the form of the curving of his lips.

‘Woah. Did you make these?’ you stare in awe at the array of flower sculptures that lay neatly next to one another.

‘I did,’ he bobs his head slightly, his excitement at its peak upon seeing how amazed you appear to be.

‘Yeon-ki.. Why haven't you shown me this before?’ your voice comes out weirder than it normally would.

‘I thought you wouldn’t be interested,’ he scratches his head, burrowing his face into the charcoal black t-shirt he wore.

‘Min Yoongi.. Oh, Yoongi.. My dream job when I was thirteen was to be a sculptor.’

‘Oh, really? Mine started ever since I was eight. Growing up with a mother who ran a dumpling shop does a thing or so to you,’ he chuckles, memories of two tiny hands sealing the edges of a kimchi and pork dumpling coming back to him.

‘How come you never told me that?’ you pout, thinking of how you used to tell each other everything.

‘I was embarrassed,’ he remembered the day his teacher asked him: ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’

‘A sculptor,’ that’s when the class broke down into laughter, his cheeks pink from humiliation.

Now how was he going to tell you? That he didn't want to tell his crush (who also happens to be his best friend) about his dream job, because he didn't want her to find him weird like the other children did and leave him...

From his perspective as a grown-ass man, children find anything funny.

‘Yoongi.. When I was eight years old I wanted to be a kitty cat,’ you giggle, your third-grade classroom visible from the corner of your eyes.

‘Y/N.. What do you want to be when you grow up?’

‘Uhh.. Uhh.. A kitty cat, Ms Seo,’ even the teacher starts cracking up.

‘Ahh. I remember you telling me that.’

How can you be this adorable? He swears he’s melting right now, his heart all mushy and soft. Oh- But you’re not his...

‘Wanting to be a sculptor isn’t even one bit embarrassing,’ you scowl.

To him it was.

‘He He,’ he’s feeling shy, light giggles coming from his lips.

The ‘Min Yoongi’ shy? Only for you, it seems. No one makes him feel like you do.

‘So.. Why are we here?’

‘We haven’t been hanging out with one another lately. So.. I thought. Why not do something fun for once?’ he points at the clay sealed in transparent airtight bags over on the table.

‘Pottery?’ you conclude.

‘Pottery,’ he verifies your speculation.

‘I will teach you how to make your own piece!’ never has he ever been this enthusiastic over something. This was his craft after all, his escape from boring essays and equations. The love of his life - after you of course. Even dumplings found themselves in third place over time.

‘I want to make matching mugs,’ ideas spring up in your head like brushes swirling in water.

‘You’re that excited?’ his face is going to start hurting from all of this smiling.

‘Mmm.. I am,’ fuck that, you’re worth all of his smiles.

‘Do you want me to show you how first, or do you want me to guide you along?’

‘Guide along,’ you let him tie your apron on, his hands hovering above your curves.

‘Just like that,’ he finishes the last knot, your body paralysed out of nervousness and your heart pounding palpably away. The sound of your heartbeat was like music being played at the lowest volume possible. The vibrations barely clear, but still existing. The melody quiet and only picked up if listened to meticulously.

‘What are you waiting for? Sit down, Y/niee.’

Min fucking Yoongi! I’m about to pounce at you, you clueless yet ridiculously lovable freak that I wish were mine - you cursed in your head, sitting down obediently.

‘Apply pressure onto the clay,’ he instructs, the confusion reflecting on your eyes reminding him of his earlier days.

The days in which he just started learning. First was the paper flowers, then the pottery, and now the sculptures. He was making his way through it one by one, hoping he’d master it all in the near future. Materials like breezeblocks, plaster of paris, soapstone, alabaster, serpentine and wonderstone he had carved away. The amount of materials he has lost possibly forming a mountain. Yet the many pieces he has created out of all of it was worth every lost and aching muscle.

He’d move on to marble soon, and to be honest, he’s eager as fuck. And a reasonable amount of: ‘I’m scared for my life.’ That’s what he likes to think.

Marble is expensive, and tricky to work with. However, as a sculptor, he was willing to try everything out. Who knows, maybe marble might end up being his end game.

‘You have to centre it,’ his hands overlap yours, guiding you through the divine art of pottery.

‘Like this.. There we go,’ your back pressed against him, results in the zapping of a lightning-like sensation in your chest.

‘Now, we have to form a hole,’ the clay smooth against your bare hands, both satisfying to touch and watch as it goes through a magical transformation on the wheel.

‘We are almost done,’ his hands now around your waist.

How can you move at this rate?

‘Relax.. Pottery is supposed to calm you down, not stress you out,’ so you do calm down, your hands moving the way he wants you to. Your heart the polar opposite.

‘Now we remove it, and let it air dry,’ he’s careful to not harm the shape of the mug as he cuts it off, placing it on another table.

‘Time to make the other one,’ he does as you did minutes ago, his hands like waves colliding in the ocean. Every moment his body moves, a marble being quarried somewhere.

‘Woah,’ that makes him smile. You make him smile, his motions not ceasing to exist. His fingers dancing along with clay that continues to spin around, the twirling coming to a halt at last.

‘We’ll come back tomorrow. They need to dry overnight.’

‘So, this is it?’ you frown, realising that your time with Yoongi is no more.

‘No.. I’ve got something else planned,’ and now you were content yet again.

‘What do you have planned?’ curiosity was yet to be reduced like the many slabs of rock Yoongi has in store. He’ll have to carve this one first though. Taking away your curiosity, and leaving you with blocks of utter satisfaction.

‘A-’ that’s when his phone starts ringing violently.

‘Oh.. Shit. I have to go, Y/N.’

‘Why?’ I guess those pieces of excess rock barricading your heart will have to stay for today.

‘My girlfriend is in trouble,’ he genuinely likes this one.

Maybe this would be the key to getting over you?

‘You should call Tae to pick you up,’ his name no longer holding bitterness. Yoongi has grown attached to the man now equipped with cerulean blue hair. He was a bit quirky, yet sweet. A lot quirky actually. But... Nonetheless, sweet.

‘I will! Please call me once you get home.’

And soon he realised how wrong that statement would be. There is no key to getting over you. Even if there is, It sure isn’t humanely possible.

You have his heart in your hands. You have the power to crush it into pieces or to protect it with all of your might. At the moment, you have it dangling from your hands. So close, yet so far... That was Yoongi and Y/N - you and him.

With your departure, bits of his happiness trail after you. His heart plunged out of his chest.

He’ll help her today, but break up the next. It's the least he could do out of decent courtesy.

However.. when he arrived he was pulled away. A pair of lips pressed to his.

‘You came,’ her hands placed blatantly on his neck.

‘Hwa-Young!’ he pulls away.

‘Hwa-Young,’ those same words graze your lips as it did his.

The one that left you behind for a rumour. The friend who promised she would stick with you until the very end, but left before the waters even thickened.

Hwa-Young.. A beautiful flower. She was beautiful alright. But some flowers are just so rotten inside, even their petals start falling apart.

Did Yoongi leave you just to kiss her? Did Yoongi bail on your date for this? Were you to a point so not worthy of his attention, that he’d rather spend it with someone else? Stop! Stop! You can’t just assume what is going on, without knowing what happened!

That's right! You can ask Yoongi tomorrow. He’ll explain to you everything. And all will be fine. He did not leave you to kiss your former friend. He probably doesn't even know who she is. If he does, he’ll probably break up with her. But.. What if Yoongi loves her. You don't want to be in his way. But... Your friendship!!

It’s all too much for your brain to comprehend.. Your head feels like it's about to explode, and you can’t stop the tears from coming. You had no one but yourself if Yoongi we're to leave.

You can’t fend for yourself again!

Lone wolves are always the first to go. Lone wolves are always the most vulnerable to pain, trouble and death. That's how it is. And how it always will be.

Wait! Wait! You have Taehyung.. You aren’t alone after all.

‘Fuck..’ you cuss, the gateway to agony’s twin sister staring right at you. Your existence, a speck of sculpting debris to be thrown out with the rest.

‘I’m finally home,’ not a glance to be given. Not a bother to be seen. And not another word to be spoken.

Yoonie (Best Friend) - Direct Message

You: I saw you

Yoongi:??

You: With her

Yoongi: It’s not what it looks like

You: That's what they all say

You: Good night, Min

Yoongi: Y/N??

Yoongi: Honey?

Yoongi: Y/niee??

‘Y/N! Honey!’ you know very well of what you had to do.

You have to talk. You have to let him explain himself.

‘Yoongi..’ your downhearted expression causes a rift between his sadness and anxiety. A rift that was indecipherable from start to finish.

‘Bench?’ he suggests, not wanting your legs to ache by the time this conversation ends.

‘Mhmm,’ you mumble incoherently.

‘I liked this one more than I did others,’ he admits, covering your legs with his varsity jacket. He’s not letting you shrivel up in the cold. Not now, or ever..

‘You do?’ you lean onto him, taking his warmth in with you.

‘I did,’ he corrects.

‘She tricked me. She called saying that her car was being towed away and that she needed help. When I arrived, there was no car or truck. I was pushed into the corner, and she started kissing me. That's when I knew, she wasn't the one.’

That there was no one like you, he wanted to say.

‘That’s terrible,’ you sigh, your anger soothing away.

Yoongi would never do that to you. You have let your doubt towards this world and its people get to you once again. But... Can anyone blame you? It was them who made you this way.

Inside you smiled, knowing he was sticking by your side no matter what happens. Your bitterness towards Hwa-Young intense.

‘Now.. Your story.’

‘I was walking home and I saw you and her.. Kissing.. Then.. I- left,’ you halt.

‘She’s the friend I told you about in the beginning,’ if he was resentful before, now he was enraged.

‘I’m sorry,’ even if he didn't know before, he felt the need to apologise. And so he did.

‘You didn't know. The fact that you dated her hurts me. But... You didn't know.’

‘Are we still best friends?’ he hopes that title, regardless of this, continues to stand.

‘Yoongi. Our friendship is much more than that.’

He knows that. He was just testing.

‘So.. If I were to kiss you right now, you wouldn’t mind it?’ your heart.. Sjdbhdhdjdhfhf What the blueberry muffins and oranges is this man trying to do!?!!

‘I’m with Taehyung,’ that hits him hard.

‘That was an insensitive question. Wasn't it?’ he timidly covers up his face.

‘Just don’t let Tae hear you,’ you both giggle.

Yet neither one of you mean it.

You’ve never kissed Tae before. You have had a platonic relationship all the way from day one to now.

‘You don’t like me.. do you?’

‘Wu-what do- you mean by that,’ you were always bad at lying.

‘Yoongi? You like him. Don’t you?’

‘How.. did-’

‘I just do.’

He wanted to say: ‘You look at each other as though you are in love.’ But... He didn't.

‘Don’t tell him,’ oh how familiar those words are.

‘Do you like her?’

‘What?!’ he needed a more specific question.

‘Do you like Y/N?’ that freezes him in place. His body is like stone that is unable to move about.

‘Y/N.. What? Yeah, she's my best friend. Of course, I like her,’ he firmly asserts.

‘Not like that. You know what I mean.’

‘Fine.. Fine.. You win. I like Y/N.’

‘Don’t tell her,’ he snorts at the memory of Yoongi pleading ever so desperately.

‘We should go inside.. Shouldn't we?’ his fingers lace with yours, sauntering along as he carefully brings you with him.

‘We graduate in four more months. Isn’t that crazy?’

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Four Months Later ↴

‘Happy Graduation!’ the three of you clatter your glasses filled with fizzing soda together.

‘The day we break up,’ you thought.

‘The day they break up,’ he thought.

Shit! What if Taehyung doesn't want to end this? Shit! Wouldn't Y/N end up hurt by this?

‘Did you-’

‘We broke up,’ if he’s shocked, he sure doesn’t show it.

He always knew this day was going to come sooner or later. What he was going to feel or how he was going to deal with it, on the other hand, is something he didn’t know.

‘Where is Y/N? Is she okay? Oh.. Tae..’ he collapses into his arms.

Shit.. Shit!! His heart! The love of his life crying about you in his arms. About nine months ago, he would have taken this as an opportunity for him to snatch Yoongi up. But… this love story doesn’t include him. He’s a mere side character that blurs away in the background. A character that can either break or make the story. For as much as how trivial he is, his decisions affect the story.

And he was no monster.

‘She’s at home. She dumped me.’

‘She dumped you?’ oh how foolish Yoongi was, Taehyung had thought. He himself was not any different though. A fool in love.. Too blind to see the truth in front of him.

‘She did.’

‘Are you hurt? Do you like her?’ he didn't need to be reminded of his reality.

What was he supposed to say? No.. I don't. I don't like her that way. You.. See. I’m not attracted to women. Y/N is this wonderful woman and I adore her more than anything in this world (maybe a little more than I adore you) but she’s like my little sister. Okay Okay.. She’s older than I am. But, you get what I mean. She’s like a sister to me.

‘No,’ nor does she like me he almost says. In that sense of course.

‘Take care. Get home safely, Tae,’ those words ring in his ear.

Why are you so caring Min Yoongi? Make me hate you! Make me hate you! Because you being kind is worse than you not being mine.

Oh, Y/Niee.. Sweep him off of his feet already. I want to move on.

‘Y/N! Are you in there, honey!’ the knocks that pass through to you is just another reminder of how love will never be yours.

‘Yoongi?’ your voice is tiny as you open the door.

‘Food,’ he lifts the lunch box to show you.

‘I dumped him.’

‘I know,’ he releases the food to the open world.

‘I know about your request,’ shit.. is that why.

‘Are you mad at me?’ you bastard, that's not what you are supposed to say.

‘That’s why I agreed on the date,’ you take the chopsticks out.

Why should you lie?

‘Do you love him?’ Min Yoongi, you stupid fuck!

‘No,’ he wasn't relieved.

‘Why the nine months?’

‘Because I wanted to love him,’ because I love you.

‘It didn't work though. You can’t fool this,’ you put your hand against your beating heart.

‘You had a crush on him?’

‘Admiration and love are two different things,’ he sticks the spoon into the soup.

‘Do you feel like eating?’

Do you feel like anything?

‘No,’ he tugs the food back into its packaging.

‘Those mugs we made. Remember them?’ you nod.

‘Do you want yours?’ you nod.

‘They came out nice,’ a subtle smile moulds onto your face.

‘We’ve been distant these four months. Only talking at school, and barely meeting up outside. Even the conversations held at school were scarce.’

Avoiding him was your way of coping.

‘Was it Hwa-Young?’

‘No..’

Hwa-Young didn't bother you, the way his lips embraced hers did. It snapped something inside you. A brutal mess of phrases in your head that wouldn’t stop returning. ‘He’ll never kiss you like that.’ ‘He’ll never be yours.’ ‘He’ll never love you like that.

‘Then what was it?’ a single presence of happiness never glazes his face.

‘Does there have to be a reason for everything?’

‘Y/N.. I’m trying to fix this relationship.’

Yoongi.. I’m trying to protect myself.

‘Get out,’ you’re not keen on starting a fight.

‘Don’t forget to eat what I brought,’ he closes the door, his lingering warmth on the couch floating away just as your loneliness kicks in once again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A Week Later ↴

‘Hello... It’s me..’

‘Y/N,’ his eyebrows quirk up at your voice, ‘How are you?’

‘Yoongi. It's been a week since I have seen him, Tae.’

‘What happened?’ concern he had shown.

‘I shut him out.. I didn't - don't want to get hurt. Not like this.’

‘I saw him yesterday. I asked about you, and he said you were doing great.’

‘Bastard,’ you couldn't help but hiss.

‘He didn't look good, Y/N. We were catching up over lunch yesterday, and the whole time he was grumpy and extra pissy. Kept on looking at his phone as though someone were to message him. Nothing ever came, and he pouted throughout the whole hour.’

‘He barely took two bites of the food he ordered.’

Frowns.. Frowns. Oh, silly little thing. He should be taking care of himself.

‘Maybe he didn't like it.’

‘We were at his mother’s dumpling shop. He ordered dumpling soup. His favourite.’

‘Oh..’

You foolish bastard..

‘You should check on hi-’

‘No.. You should,’ he cuts you off.

‘I’m done playing middleman. How long are you going to drag this on? You like him, and he-’

‘Never mind.. It isn’t my place to tell you this. Have a nice day, Y/N.’

The phone call ends, and you go rushing for your coat.

‘Yoongi.’

‘You’re here,’ he was a little kitty waiting for its owner to come home.

‘Y/N!’ he isn’t a man of affection, but hugging you was necessary.

‘It’s cold,’ he hauls you inside.

‘I missed you,’ you break the silence away.

‘I did too.’

‘Why have you been avoiding me recently?’

‘Do I have to answer that?’

‘Goodness gracious, Y/N... I love you.’

The last time he cried in front of someone was when people allowed it. When he was a six-year-old child who was oblivious to what the cruel world could offer. The last time he cried was when he was showering. His whimpers blended in with the quiet of the night and that of the water trickling down his back and legs.

The water could hide his pain, casting him in a shield of protection. ‘Why can’t you be mine?’ he initially wanted to scream then. But, energy was something he no longer possessed. All that came out was a low sob of distress.

‘I-’

Words Y/N! Words...

‘I’m leaving for Paris tomorrow. Let's have one last movie night at my place.’

First the ‘I love you,’ and now this?

‘Paris?’

‘Sculpting.’

‘Oh..’

You lost him once. And now he was about to slip through your fingers yet again.

Min Yoongi is no piece of stone that you can easily keep in place. He’s sand. He’ll get away one way or the other.

‘Titanic.. Why titanic? I thought you weren't one for romance.’

Ever since you came into his life, he had been a sucker for romance novels and movies. Specifically: unrequited love stories with happy endings. That’s his favourite thing to watch over a weekend. Or rather, tear his eyes out wishing you were his as the male lead somehow gets the girl.

‘I love Romance.’

‘Okay.. Okay, mister.’

‘I love you.’

Get out of my head, Min Yoongi!

Did she not hear what I said?

‘Y/N?’ you fell asleep.

Your brain couldn't handle all of that. Your body couldn't handle of that. Your heart couldn't handle all of that.

‘Morning.’

‘I fell asleep last night. Didn’t I?’

‘You did.’

*Ring*

‘I’ve got to take this,’ you direct at the phone.

‘Your morning tea is waiting for you on this table.’

‘Mhmmm.’

‘Tae?’

‘Paris. He’s going-’

‘I know.’

‘Damit.. You fools! Yoongi likes you.’

‘We’re best friends.’

‘He loves you.’

‘Best Friends can love each other.’

‘Goodness me oh my.. He has a fucking crush on you.’

‘How do-’

‘He told me.’

‘Confess already. Don’t let him get away..’

‘I won’t ask him to stay. Sculpting is his life.’

‘Plus, long-distance relationships don’t work.’

‘Just get it off of your chest.’

I’ll never get to do so myself.

‘I’m at his house.’

‘Movie night?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m leaving for Spain.’

‘What? You too?’

‘Mmm..’

‘In the end, all I have is myself.. Isn’t it?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry. I’ll survive somehow.’

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Time of Departure ↴

‘Yoongi.. Before you leave, I want to tell you the real reason to why I broke up with Taehyung.’

You stood there, desperately hoping it will all turn out well.

‘Y/N.. Can’t you tell me some other time,’ his luggage is propped up against the wall, his legs leaning against the door.

‘No.. Yoongi.’

‘There is no other time.’

‘Is it important?’ he pouts.

‘It very much is,’ you confidently state.

‘Now.. Go on.’

‘I- I-’

Dammit!

‘I- I like you.’

‘And I love you,’ he knows what’s coming next, yet he didn't want to give up.

Even if there’s only a pinch of hope left.

‘I do too,’ you look into his eyes, the darkness within it glimmering with a dot of unrelenting wishfulness.

‘Not like that, you fool. I love you.. As in- As in: I want to push you against the wall and kiss you stupid.’

‘Yeah.. That I love you,’ you smile, rubbing your fingers over and over again.

‘I’ve been crushing on you ever since we were six. When we were eleven I’d follow you around like a lost puppy. And then you moved away. But the universe wanted us to meet again. We did.’

‘Eight-year-old me wanted to marry you. We can’t do that just yet. But..’

‘Min Yoongi.. The one with the lovely eyes who talks way too much and can’t focus for fuck’s sake. Will you be my boyfriend?’

He nods, his cheeks pink.

‘Words, Min.’

‘Yes.’

‘Now go on.. Go to Paris and become a megastar of a sculptor, or whatever people these days call it.’

Long-distance relationships. You were so against that idea. After all: ‘Out of Sight, Out of Mind.’

However, this was the boy who had haunted your dreams for the seven years he was gone. He’s an exception. Always was and always will be.

‘Y/N..’

You thought he’d leave. You thought he’d walk away. But.. He didn't.

He embraced you into a tight hug.

Oh how badly he had been yearning for this moment to arrive.

‘You know Y/N, I never thought I’d see you again. I’m so glad I did,’ his words vibrate against your neck.

‘There are plenty of colleges in Korea where I can major in sculpting.’

‘But...’

‘Shh.. Let me confess something,’ his fingers touch your lips, hushing you.

‘Paris was just me trying to run away from what I wanted and needed. You.’

‘Y/N-’

‘No,’ you cut him off, ‘I get to say it.’

‘You already did.’

‘Does it look like I care whether I have said it or not?’

‘Nope.’

‘Then.. Will you be my fluffy little dumping?’

‘Yes..’

Smiles.. Smiles.. Oh, how could you stop smiling?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tears.. Tears.. Oh, how could you stop crying?

‘Yoongi! Yoongi!’ your lungs could drop out any second now.

‘He can’t hear you. We’re ghosts in this realm,’ Jimin looks over to your puffy eyes.

‘Why me? Why did I have to die? Why me?’

‘Namjoon’s next,’ the angel ticks something off with his quill.

‘All of this is just business to you.. Isn’t it?’

‘My memories are nothing but something you have to tick off of that stupid list of yours. Isn’t it?’

‘It’s my job,’ not a dose of sympathy to be shown.

‘You’re a devil. Not an angel.’

‘I’m just Jimin.’

‘Fuck you Jimin.’

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Min Yoongi has invited to you to his sculpting exhibition!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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