#well. it just so happens that i own a pair of rubiks cube earrings. they’re not actual cubes; it’s like a 2d drawing of a rubiks cube

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay. Is it delusional of me to try to signal to this guy in my class that I like him… through my choice of earrings

[namjoonchronicles]

floating alphabets | yg

↳ pairing yoongi, you ↳ genre domestic, yoongi as a husband, fluff, suggestive content ↳ words 3.4k ↳ summary not once have you doubted yoongi’s way of parenting, but having to be away from home a lot for your study, you are further drawn apart from your twin boys and a certain call from the school has got you worrying and Yoongi, scrambling to find solution that fits

With the orchestral music playing semi loudly in the living room, the twins are presumably occupied. It is one of those few things that you and Yoongi found working enough to keep the boys calm. The reason why that is very important today is because you got a call from the school about one of your twins.

Yoongi snoops into the main bedroom where you were like he had a secret meeting. He peers with one eye to make sure the boys are still focused on their orchestra, playing on the wide screen before whispering, “Okay, what is it?”

Knees crossed, sitting on the edge of the bed, a piece of unfolded letter  pinched between your thumb and forefinger is handed to Yoongi with a heavy sigh. Your eyes tipped up and then to the side as your husband reads the contents, with his squinted eyes. He began mumbling the words and you have resorted to closing your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose then resting your chin on the heels of your palm. Elbow digging on your knee.

“What does this mean? What does it all mean? What are they saying about Gyeonghan?” 

Yoongi began, now on his knee, crawling to you to sit by your feet with his eyes peering up at you, all dewy and soft. Taking the letter from him gently, your shoulders fall heavy.

“It means the school wants him diagnosed because they suspect him to be dyslexic.”

The word falls heavy as concrete in Yoongi’s heart.

In the letter, the school mentions how Gyeonghan’s grades are declining from the moment the school session put more emphasis on reading subjects and although his musical abilities has been speckless since he stepped in, his readings have not improved as much. He never finishes his homework, and his twin covers him up for it. That is probably why it has taken so long for the school to detect what the problem was. Gyeongnam had been helping his twin from getting scoldings. Further, the written brief reports about Gyeonghan’s behaviour in class mention how he would draw the alphabet backwards, and would run from class to take bathroom trips--sometimes several times in a single lesson.

The room fell silent for a moment. Just about time the orchestra reached its climax.

“Yoongi,” you began, “We need to talk to them.”

“What do we even say?”

“What we should…”

“And what are those?”

With your master class’s assignment abandoned on the table, Yoongi shut the door after you. Confident strides faltered the moment you caught the twins setting up the table for dinner. They used chairs to retrieve the glassware on the cabinet. Having set the chopsticks by the empty bowl, next to arrange is the glass. Yoongi sped up ahead of you to help Gyeonghan.

“After dinner,” you murmured to yourself, “We’ll talk after dinner.”

Yoongi reheats everything in the microwave, reboiled the sausage stew, and you helped pour water in the empty glasses.

“You guys set up the dinner table so well!,” you chimed, smiling ear-to-ear. Yoongi too, was smiling as his head disappears into the fridge to fetch the mangoes he had prepared in noon, chilled and fit for desert. The twins grinned and climbed into their seats, waiting for the rice scooped up by their mother whom they rarely see.

“Mama,” Han called, “Can you make those triangle chips with cheese on top?”

“Triangle chips? You mean loaded nachos?” you confirmed. Nam was giggling and repeating, “Triangle chips, triangle chips. It’s called nachos, Han.”

“Alright boys, Mama has exams this week, so we don’t want to disturb her studies,” Yoongi intercepted, bringing the stew pot on the table, spewing words of cautions while he places it. Puffs of smoke escaping from it, still.

“But I promise that I’ll make it next weekend, how does that sound? It’s due time that we all go for a movie night right here in our own home. What say you, Mr. Husband?” you eyed your husband as he went back to the kitchen to wash his hands and dry them off. He let out a dry chuckle as he returns to the table,

“I don’t see why not, movie night sounds good.”

The twins cheered. With the plates all cleaned and wiped dry by Yoongi, you sat in the living room on the floor with the boys. Television turned off.

“Is the baby in mama’s tummy alright?” Han guesses that that must be the reason why his mother was calling this small discussion. The small bump finally got its attention the first time today. You smiled and caressed your womb tenderly. A nod and a smile should suffice to answer Han’s questions.

“What we are going to talk about today is very difficult,” you began.

The two had sparkling eyes the exact way their father was looking at you today and your heart was chewing on itself the moment you had to tell them what happened. First, you mentioned that during your lecture class today, you received a call from the school. Han and Nam showed slight discomfort and started fidgeting on their sleeves, and tugging the brim of their hoodies, the one that Yoongi bought in Alaska. Upon noticing this, Yoongi scooted on the floor next to you with a dad-sigh, finally joining the family discussion.

The call from the school was about the twins’ recent behaviour. You also showed them a written report of it.

“As parents, we both are in deep concern whenever anyone shows any decline in their studies. It concerns us because it was our duty to make sure that you understand what you are studying. If you don’t, and the teachers cannot help you, it is our respective duty to take the task into hand,” you said.

“In other words,” Yoongi receives the baton and carried the flow of the discussion, “Nam wasn’t finishing his homework and Han is doing his homework for him,” Yoongi turns to Han, “Daddy knows you want to help him, and by doing so, he doesn’t get punished. Admirable, but,” Yoongi held his pointing finger up to the sky, and he paused, then resumes, “Nam wouldn’t understand the lessons if he doesn’t do the homework himself, correct?”

The twins shook their heads and looked down to their lap. Tears were already brimming.

“...Han,” you thumbed his cheek, “What’s happening?”

Nam scuffles, stood up and ran into his room. A few moments later, the door is slammed shut. Yoongi wanted to comfort him right away but you grabbed Yoongi’s wrist and shake your head. Your attention turns to Han who is also in tears but was able to make up words as he sobbed.

“I keep telling h-him, to f-f-finish his work but he just won’t. When I tried to make him do so, he sai-d-d, he said the alphabets were floating,” Han uses his entire sleeve to wipe his tears, talking through the fabrics. Han then told you that the whole class laughed when Nam basically yelled about it in class when he was told to read so he makes up words as he goes. Noticing that Nam wasn’t able to read, Han mouthed them to him from the side, whispering.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yoongi bracketed Han’s shoulders, audible breaks in his voice.

“We’re scared,” Han answered in hiccups.

Gentle knocks on the door. While Yoongi comforted Han by letting him play on his studio piano, you spoke through the door to your other son.

“It’s mama, can I come in?”

Yoongi waddled over, gave you a look and twisted the knob open to try and peek in. “Nam? Dad’s here too… if you don’t want to speak to mom, can dad speak to you?” Yoongi asked. Han and Nam are both closer to their dad than you. There are many factors leading to that. One of it being, you were away most of the time and Yoongi took charge of the household ever since they learned how to walk. When they go home from school, get into the car, play at the park, it’s Yoongi they see. When they are hungry, wanting food, getting into showers, it’s Yoongi they ask.

“Yes,” Nam said, “To dad.”

Your cheeks deflated and you nodded in defeat. But before you go, Yoongi grabbed your wrist and passed you a chaste kiss on the lips, brushed them on your cheek and whispered in your ear, “I got this.”

The door creaks as Yoongi walked in, and he made a mental note to have it oiled when he has time, when the thought dissipates at the sight of his son coming out from underneath the bed--his safe space.

“There you are, champ,” he smiles thinly.

The boy bursts into tears and hugged his dad’s waist, while Yoongi ruffles his hair, planting kisses on the boy’s hair before carrying him and sat him down on his bed.

“Floating alphabets, huh?” Yoongi lays on his elbows, grabbing Rubik’s cube from the bedside table. Nam nodded and hugged his turtle plushie. Han has the same one, but he had a rabbit one.

“They’re flying when I try to read them, and I can’t catch them on time,” Nam mutters to his chest, lips pouting.

Yoongi tutted his tongue, “...Gyeongnam,” he pauses, and, “Do you know Albert Einstein couldn’t read until he was 9? And the famous painter whose painting Uncle Namjoon hung on his living room wall, Leonardo Da Vinci? The person who made the world’s first light bulb, Thomas Edison? They all learn to read very late, and these were one of the most brilliant minds the universe had. Have you heard of dyslexia?”

Gyeongnam repeated the word precisely, but Yoongi knows that if he was told to spell them, he won’t be able to. Nonetheless,

“Gyeongnam, sweetie… reading is hard, it’s boring because you don’t see what others do, correct? It seems that the words just don’t make sense. This difficulty is called dyslexia—a big word to explain why some kids and adults find it hard to learn to read, write and spell. You’re just as smart as other kids. Your brain just works a little differently. But a lot of kids also have trouble reading! And dyslexia doesn’t keep you from being great at other things—like being a science star and an awesome artist,”

As he listened to his father’s words, he managed to solve the Rubik’s cube. And Yoongi tapped the solved Rubik's cube twice, smiling at his son, “... or solving Rubik’s cube.” Nam returned a broken smile. He inhaled and exhaled hard, “But I don’t feel smart. I’m not like Han. Who reads through a text like that lady on the TV news.”

“Gyeongnam,” Yoongi sat up straight, “There’s another way, but dad needs time in order for it to work.”

The door clicks open to you sending Han to sleep.

“I’m just here to send Han to bed,” you declared and Nam jerks his head up.

“Mama,” Nam called. He stuck out his arms for you to take and waited for you for a hug. You stopped yourself from crying. Yoongi went to hug Han. Yoongi and you walked out the room, hand in hand, closing the door behind you. You looked up at Yoongi and leaned your heavy head on his sturdy chest. He thumbed your cheek, and the rest of his fingers were behind your ear. You felt his lips over the crown of your head.

His wedding band is cold on your skin,  underneath your shirt.

“I'm going to bed later tonight,” Yoongi said and you twitched your head to the side, not quite understanding why. He continues, “And you have assignments to do.” He peels himself from you with an awkward smile and ran into his studio as quickly as he can.

*****

An old raggedy wallet belonging to Yoongi, was laying on the floor when you turned around from your desk, looking over your shoulders. Picking it up, it flipped open and you couldn’t help yourself from checking if he has some cash. He has none, but a folded picture. Family picture.

“A father carries pictures where his money used to be,” you spoke to yourself and inserted some cash you have next to it, smiling and tucking it back to the back pocket of his worned-out jeans. Then you rushed back to the desk, finally regaining the strength as to why you’re studying so hard. Because the only reason why you’re able to do this, is because Yoongi sacrificed his time from being a man the community wants out of him, to be the mother and father of his child. It was because you have a man who understood how much this meant to you.

Two hours passed and you hear a faint knock on the door, then the knob twisted open to reveal a tray filled with food and the smell of cooking entered the whole room. In a gentle low voice, and slightly persuasive, Yoongi said, “Let’s eat first.” He sets the tray on your study desk after you threw all your notes on the bed and smiled widely at him.

There is egg rolls, grilled fish fillet, seasoned spinach, soft tofu stew, a bowl of rice and yellow pickled radish next to the kimchi served as sides.

“I’ll cook the chicken tomorrow, how do you want it?” Yoongi asked, sitting next to the scattered notes on the bed while watching his wife eat appetizingly while occasionally scanning over the notes you scribbled on. He just denied a spoonful of spinach from you and you realised that he must have eaten with the kids.

“Braised soy sauce, with lots of potatoes,” you added, speaking with mouthful. His face gives away nothing but a nod, and if you hadn’t been married to him for seven years, you would take it as rejection. But you’re married for seven years. And you can tell if it’s the sound of his footsteps coming from the hallway outside your apartment. Yoongi pinches a small post-it note you pasted on your lecture slides and tutted his tongue.

“What about using iPads?” his eyes moved to the words written on it, “For these…” he held the post-it notes and wave it in the air a bit.

“I like writing on them,” slurping the stew right after, and spooning another scoop of fish flesh before eating them with rice.

“What if you lose one of the notes?” Yoongi’s concerns vibrated through his gritty voice as he place those notes right back where he found it.

Then you tapped your temple, smiling smugly, “It’s all in here.”

There he is, flashing that pretty smile of his. It’s one of the many things you love about Yoongi. Like how calm he is when you took a wrong turn in strangers’ towns, last November. Or how he takes calls from you. Or how at home he is when he is in any kitchen. He feels reliable. Safe. How he finishes your hanging sentences. And how he manages to pass you the things you need by just huff of your breath. Going camping with him is the best.

Your tiny family would camp out in the mountains every weekend before you were pregnant, but now that you’re four months in, he decided to take just the boys out when you’re away at university. His parents said how dangerous it was to take pregnant woman to the woods and although he thought it was absurd, he decided to listen anyways. You know how much he enjoyed fishing and he hasn’t been able to do it as often as he’d like. There was a superstitious belief from your part of the family that catching a fish might give the newborn baby some deformities. Creatures of the sea and all that.

Absurd, it is. It was through loving Yoongi that you knew what devotion is.

Flickering bulbs don’t live long in the house of Min. Yoong made sure of that. From throwing the boxes that contained the bulbs, Yoongi reached for his wallet. Face scrunched and he digits the rows of cards in them to pick the one in black. Your face shone by the laptop screen in pitch darkness. Sitting on the dining table with a half-drunken tea, background music from the bluetooth speakers barely audible. Yoongi waddled down the hallway and slipped the black platinum card next to your hand.

You tipped your eyes up at him, wondering.

“For the spa day you wanted…” Yoongi leans over to reach the jar of biscuits while nonchalantly checking his phone to connect with the bluetooth speaker for a song that he wanted.

A smile crept up your lips, you had to bite them so that they won’t get any bigger. He knows he’s being corny sweet right now and knowing him as long as you did, you yearned for the face he makes when he’s downright embarrassed.

“But I haven’t decided where and when… none of my friends goes to one, because they’re workaholics,” you shrugged and pouted at the view of his back as he goes to the living room to turn the television off. He stayed eerily quiet for a bit and then,

“I’ll ask my stylists, maybe they have their favourites known to give good service,” he clicks his tongue and stared at his phone, scrolling. There’s no serious problems regarding that. But all his stylists were attractive females. It shouldn’t be a problem. And yet.

“Alright!” you chirped, disguising your negative feelings. Fake it until you make it, right? Yoongi wouldn’t like you tattling, doubting his sincerity. Especially when he proves that he had been nothing but loyal to you. Ever since you started college again, you spent less and less time together. Even if you do, there’s the twins to look after. When the night comes, you both get too tired. He doesn’t want to make you stay up too late since you needed to study. And you’re not sure if he is energetic after all the errands. You thought it was being considerate, you both thought it was. Yoongi puts Lana Del Ray’s Lust For Life on the bluetooth speakers. He gave you a glance, hollowing his cheeks, and turns to face the opposing side but his shoulder turns away slower than his head. He made it pretty obvious.

“Would you look at the sky,” he spoke against the glass window. His warm breath fogged up the glass. You picked up his subtle advances and left your laptop behind. By now, he had slid the door open to step outside the verandah.

“Has it always been shining that bright?” Yoongi stared at the moon.

Looking at him with the biggest grin, you answered, “Yes.” He noticed you were referring to him and looked away very quickly. Putting your hand on the wooden handrail, he moves his closer and closer until finally your pinkies touched. You turned to him with a sheepish smile that your cheeks turned rosey, eyes locked in his. Standing on your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, touched the tip of his nose with your own, just when the chorus comes on in waves. As the beat drops, he envelopes your lips with his, slipped his hand under the brims of your shirt, and thumbed your sides.

You parted and saw him mash his lips together.

Lacing your fingers with his, you guided him back into the house.

“Dad, dad, wake up…”

Yoongi woke up laying on his stomach, shirtless in the middle of the bed, humming responses with eyes barely open. His bare feet were hanging off the edge. The duvet rode up his calf, and down his speckless back, just enough to cover his naked glory.

“Breakfast,” Nam said, passing his dad a mug of coffee. He sat up, scratching his chest when Nam asked, “That looks painful, where did you get that dad?”

Yoongi took a sip and glances downward, several times to see the hickey and nagged Nam to take his shirt laying on the floor next to the bed. He slips them on and fished for his trousers draped over the bedside table. He waddles out in the hallway after Nam, passes you a kiss on the crown of your head while you greeted a good morning to him bringing his mug of coffee. He checks the front door next, to see if the morning news is delivered. It hasn’t.

“Nam said you prepared something to help him with his studies, what was it?” you asked, gliding your eyes to your husband while setting your bowl of cereals down.

He fastens earpods on you and on Nam to show what he was working on, and it was reading comprehension he voiced himself. Complete with questions and answers. You turned to him, hollowing your cheeks, impressed.

“Dad caught the flying alphabets and tied them with ropes!” Nam exclaimed. And he was absolutely right.

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Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer I’m no expert in handling dyslexia, and if you feel that my interpretation of the disorder (ref. Mayo Clinic defines it as a learning disorder) is inaccurate, feel free to message me but don’t expect to be replied. If you have the disorder or know someone with the disorder, do contact the health and education services you have in your respective locations. This is a truly fictional work that has nothing to do with the living or the dead. 

copyright © 2019 namjoonchronicles do not repost