"Come with me."

Without another word he rushes off, to which you follow after. After all, for a man of so little words and expressions, he sure knows how to make a spectacle of himself. Especially in a rather... sinister way.

You eyes verge to the keys dangling from his tight grip. 

Why?

Why did he set this up?

If he hadn't stolen them -- not that your implying that he did such a rash thing -- then you wouldn't be bunked together in room like children in a cabin. The evidence is certainly compelling, and if you didn't know any better, no matter how much it makes you gag; this nearly goes to show that he actually likes spending time with you.

As his hand grips the car door, "W-Wait!" you huff, shaky-eyed until you find yourself falling deep into his orbs. Those planets of that are begging you with every piece of life they have left in them. And then, your eyes lock to his lips, the one's that carried the look of regret; trembling to mutter an apology. 

Yoongi turns his head the other way, "I just need you for a couple of hours." He says entering the vehicle. His grip hardens against the steering wheel. Why? He can't get you off his mind. 

He clutches at his chest, and within lay the beat that he could never be mistaken for the galloping of horses or the roaring of an engine. 

His gaze flickers in your direction, as you buckle your seatbelt. 

What is it about you... That makes him like this?

❈

Standing taller than before and puffing his chest out further, the cashier mutter an annoyed, "Pay up." 

Unimpressed, Yoongi chuckles. "I'm not going to pay for two bikes when you can only give me one." He spreads his hands on the counter and looks the cashier in the eye, "Do I really need to talk to your manager over a matter as trivial as this." 

The cashier scratches his beard and crosses his arms. "Look, quit holding up the line. If you can't wait a few hours for an available bike, then beat it." 

Behind Yoongi, you try speak up. "Maybe we can just-" 

As Yoongi's fists curl, you notice they begin to take on a deathly ashen as he puts his head down. Under his breath he mutters, "Who is your supplier?" 

"Why on earth would that matter?" The cashier woops, speaking brashly for all the customers behind to snicker at. "That's just-" 

Yoongi withdraws his hand from the man, whose eyes you never could've imagined could glimmer in such starstruck and fear within a quarter of a second. 

"O-of course! My apologies s-" The man folds into a deep bow that has your mind swimming in a pool of confusion. 

What on earth? 

As if that wasn't troubling enough, Yoongi doesn't even flinch, adjusting the grey sweater on his frame dismissively. "Keep your lips sealed and I won't bring it up with your manager." He threatens smoothly, hand slithering onto your wrist before whisking you to the nearest bike rack. 

Once at ear-shot distance, "What was that?" you whimper, horrified as you rip yourself from his grip. To your core, you're shaken.

What the heck!?

After a few more steps, he comes to a stop and releases a heavy breath. For a moment the silence he sets falls beautifully into to place, hits you before a wave of worry as his gaze lands on yours. 

His lips curl, "I know a few a people." he mutters, hand outstretched. "Now come. We don't have to waste the night on pleasantries." 

"But-!" 

"Asking a question is something you do when you care about someone," He takes your hand into his and bares his teeth, almost painstakingly. "Don't mistaken my intentions niece girl... I'm merely looking for company, so don't waste your breath on a question you and I both know... You don't want an answer to." Gaze averted, he tosses you a helmet and dismounts two bicycles from the rack, yours rose, and his green. 

For a moment you just stare at him, completely and utterly... bewildered. 

"Fine," He sighs. "I get it if biking isn't your thing." He wraps a sturdy grip onto the handle. 

"No, it's not like-" You gulp, his breath shooting against your ear as you gaze into each other's eyes, neither stopping to look away first. 

His lips pull into a lively smile that steals the show -- and your breath. Those beautiful eyes, the dark forests of raven, pressed into narrow slits of glee and bliss. 

It's truly... Beautiful... 

And so are the chuckles of laughter following his lips. "You're pretty quick to change your mind." He lets go of the handle and turns to his bike. The only image left for you before the sound of his voice once more, is his back.

But his words aren't what intrigue you.

Instead it's the question that pops under your breath.

"Who are you exactly...?"

❈❈

"Work boy! What are you? 50?" The manager roars, cramming another carboard into Yoongi's arms. He winces through gritted teeth, but the manager doesn't seem to give a damn and continues to yell, "You think a fucked up shoulder is a viable excuse!?"

"No sir!" Yoongi shouts back, lifting his chin high despite the drops glimmering in his eyes.

"Good." The old man grunts, sticking a cigar in his mouth. He reaches in his pockets, lights it, and takes a huff of nightly nicotine before giving his final regards, "Then deliver all of these by tonight."

"Yes sir!" Yoongi pants, folding into a deep bow.

You wait for the cranky old crow to leave before rushing to Yoongi. "Give me some. I'll help." Through wet-eyes he looks up, "Really?" He asks, wiping the sweat rimming his forehead.

You nod, and take the third box that the boss stacked on Yoongi.

"Yeah." You smile. "Consider it as an apology for earlier. I was wrong about you. I thought you were a rich snob that's never lifted a finger, not a man working a minimum wage job by night." You mutter.

A large smile gifts his lips as he ties his boxes to the back of his bike. "You're smarter than I thought niece girl." He laughs, hopping onto his bike.

"Hey!" You shout following from behind on your neon pink bike. "That's mean!"

"What is Y/N?"

You come to a sudden stop. Your breath hitched, and eyes wide as you ogle at the man. "What... What did you say?"

Looking over his shoulder, he shrugs. "What?"

"My name..." You mutter. "How do you know it?"

He chuckles. "Niece girl..." Dismounting his bike, he approaches you tentatively, eyes soft and... gentle.

Yes, gentle.

As gentle as can be.

Not sad.

Not mad.

Just... Gentle.

Caring...

Loving...

He reaches for your cheek, cupping the side of your face hesitantly. His breath washes against yours, and for a moment you're left to wander in the mystery of his creamy orbs. There's something different....

Something that wasn't there before...

Something moving...

"Y/N..." He whispers sweetly. "Close your eyes."

A shiver dances down your spine. It's telling you to run, to retreat. But you don't. You hold your ground and face it head on.

You close your eyes and wait as you feel it, feel him -- inching closer and closer. And then before you know it, under the moonlight, you lay tender as he guided you through it...

Your first kiss.

❈❈

11:11

Jimin glances back at the panting boy in the water's reflection. His hair, a bright orange, dripping with sweat and his skin flushed with heat, despite the bitter coldness of the crisp night. His fingers marvel at the sharp turns of his jaw.

Man... He looks worn out.

He smiles weakly.

The competition is tomorrow... The one that he's been working endlessly for. And so is the meeting... The one that was set up for him. The one that makes him want to scream at his own ignorance.

Taking a handful on sand into his hand, he stares out into the empty waters.

"What should I do?" He wonders, toes curling into the sand beneath. It's embarrassing to live a secret second life like this, almost as if he were a protagonist in a cringey novel or something. But it's no joke.

He wants to chase after his dreams. He wants to fall head first into where his heart wishes to lead him. He wants to run into the distant horizon...

But he also doesn't want to hurt.

He doesn't want to disappoint the ones who loved him most in this world. He tried to live the lie his father set up for him. He really did.

But it's just simply... Not him.

Jimin... Park Jimin... Is a man of dance.

He's a man of smiles and elegant movement, much like the clouds that dance through the skies. And his friends... Those goof-balls... They get it.

They get his crisis, because they're all living his crisis.

They get him.

And Jimin couldn't ask for any more. That's all he needs. But the pressure of his family's expectations keep weighing down on his dream, the one that they all heavily disapprove of.

That's why Jimin does this.

That's why he's living in this mess, because he couldn't stop the passion consuming him. He just loves the freedom and grace of movement so so dearly.

Jimin turns his focus to the hotel, the moonlight peeking past the rolls and rolls of hills, forcing him to squint in concentration. 

His mouth drops a little. And for a moment he can swear that he is actually crazy, only for him to shudder as he does a double take.

Danger his eyes scream as his breathing turns heavy and out of tune.

To the sight, he trembles.

Her.

2018/11/17

Apologies! Have been super short on time lately! Especially with auditions and such! Thank you so much for being understanding! Love you all! <3   - BTSgotJams_170