"Yoongi."

He lay stiff as a board, so deep in sleep he looked dead.

"Yoongi!"

He was deaf at this point.

Satisfied that she wouldn't get caught, she carefully slipped out of the room.

Still, she was careful in her steps, avoiding the floorboards that creaked.

She didn't want to wake him; he was grumpy when he woke too early.

4 pm; way too early alright.

Not wanting to disturb Yoongi, she kept the lights off.

Feeling a sharp pain on the pads of her feet, she stepped back, remembering the broken vase.

Kneeling down, she moved the table aside.

Grabbing the broom, she carefully cleaned up what was left of the vase.

It's not like it was worth much anyways; though she and Yoongi had picked it out themselves, so it was rather special, with sentimental value.

Looking at the shards, she tried not to laugh at how broken everything was.

Much like her life; especially.

It wasn't funny, not in the slightest, but she had always had a dark sense of humour.

That's one of the things that Yoongi said made him like her so much.

Even as the smile rose to her lips, she began to cry.