You had felt helpless — almost at a loss for words even, as his dark, hooded orbs stared into yours, forcing a shiver to dance down your spine much like the breeze on a bone-chilling autumn night.

Returning the gesture, you stared at him, dumbfounded — as to how he hadn't spilled a single word on your previous encounter.

The same encounter you have yet to apologize for.

Perched against the counter, hand propping his chin consideratly, a glint of amusement glimmers in his eyes; because he knew...

He knew that this was way to good to pass up.

"This is going to be much more fun than I thought." His tongue washes over his bottom lip, as he continued observing you sift through the large stack of papers piled on the desk faster than he could say your name.

"Lee Y/N...?"

"Here are your keys sir. Just sign these wavers here," You squeak, finger pointing to the dotted line without realizing you were now in his personal space. "And... Here?" You trail off, gulping hard as he smirks knowingly, taking the oppertunity to wrap his hand around your wrist tightly.

"Wouldn't cross this line if I were you." He points to the inked line suggestively, allowing a dry chuckle, "Didn't your mother ever warn you about men?"

Your blood runs still.

Beads of cold sweat sliding down your back, and face loosing colour with each passing second, you took a step back, scared.

What the fuck did you get yourself into Y/N?

The ebony haired man grins cynically, rising from his seat after having enough of toying with you — for now.

And without a word — not even a 'thank you' or a bow — he walks off, figure dissapearing as he traveled up the stairs to his room-to-be; which was directly above yours.

❈

Night.

Yoongi had always hated this time of day. The darkness, the mystery — it was a constant reminder of those pieces of his horrible past; his sister sobbing in the comfort of his arms as objects slammed against the walls, yelling sounding from the adults mouths, cussing each other.

Every time the moon casted its icy lighting on his features, he had felt as if it was mocking him — mocking his pitiful existence.

He shuddered as a the cool breeze washed over him, the unwanted memories becoming set on haunting him — lips craving to take a sip of the mauve liquid.

And so he did, the zesty acid burning his throat. No, he wasn't an addict — more like he drank the bitter liquor occasionally; to soothe the pain no person could.

A temporary distraction.

Besides, who could he turn to anyways? He was alone — a runaway from the luxurious life he had possessed before.

He sighs, a tap coming from the front door — disrupting him from his thoughts. Groaning, he sets down the wine glass between his ringed fingers, placing it delicately on the small coffee table by his side.

And all he wanted was some time alone...

He rolls his eyes in annoyance, "Yes?" He drags indolently, grabbing his laptop only to rest it on his thighs comfortably — not even bothering to check who the culprit was.

"Yoongi!" The brunette sings cheerfully, poking his head into the room, a smile of relief upon confirmation that Yoongi hadn't been sleeping.

Yoongi waits for the boy to continue, not even sparing the ladder a glance — instead engrossing himself in his essay, which was due by the end of the summer, and thankfully the last of the year.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

Yoongi had never been so stumped in his life, his thoughts always seeming rigid the second he read the title; The Importance Of Love And Pride.

The casually dressed boy speaks with a sheepish grin, "The guys are heading out for the night — probably won't be back until dawn. Want to come?"

"Nah." Yoongi shakes his head, the proposition a complete turn off. "Don't really feel like getting laid tonight — unlike the rest of you."

"Ouch." Hoseok chuckles, leaning against the doorframe, one leg kicking back in amusement. "I knew you'd say no, but the guys forced me to ask anyways." He draws a deep breath, a cheeky smirk on his lips. "Too bad. Your loss."

"Don't care." The older deadpans, fingers continuing to dance on the keyboard — a somewhat bothersome clacking noise sounding throughout the room.

"Whatever prince." Hoseok snickers, eyes wrinkling.

Prince...

The name causes Yoongi to purse his lips, eyebrows knitting together to create a scowl. Hoseok chuckles awkwardly, noticing the bizarre change of attitude. "Jeez, can't take a joke?"

Yoongi's expression was odd — a mixture of a weak smile and clenched jaw. His fingers paused, hovering over the keyboard as he watched Hoseok leave.

The corners of his lips turn upwards, painting a toxic grin to his face. "If only he knew half of it..." Irritation seeps through his mumbled words, hair now tousled thanks to his hands raking back his black locks.

Once again picking up the alcohol on the table, he indulges himself — adams apple bobbing up as he downed another glass along with his fear — with this liquid which he had despised as a child.

His gaze roams the lifeless room, which had been shrouded in utter darkness; with the exception of the large orb of light embellishing the midnight sky.

Yoongi scoffs, lips now tainted scarlet and swollen from this drink which supposedly helped people — but instead only amplified his anguish.

He had many problems.

Not like anyone gave a damn though.

He tosses his now empty glass aside, an elusive grin tugging his lips as he stared into the night sky, the echoes and cries for help within him, breaking free.

But still, he was grateful — grateful that even though he dwelled on this pain alone; that the boys knew him as just... Him.

And not for his title.

Instead they knew him as Min Yoongi, 3rd year student in the psychology department — and not as the Min Yoongi that faded from the family picture. The same Yoongi who parted with the upbringing which had been promised to him as a child.

He left it.

There was no love.

Love didn't exist.

Love had always failed him — it pained him — gave him a strange complex.

But worst of all, a fear...

A fear of being abandoned.

Which is why, he hated nights.

❈❈

You couldn't handle it.

How could you manage to run into him out all of the people on the planet again?

A cynical smirk pops onto your face, your shoelace coming undone, nearly projecting your face into the wooden stairs. You sigh.

Well with your luck, anything seems possible at this point.

What's next?

Unicorn droppings falling from the sky?

"Y/N!" Eyes rolling to the back of your skull, you stride to the back, meeting your aunt — who was completely absorbed in her own world.

She had the full attire of a Korean housewife — hair coiled and frizzy from a long day's work. A petite plum coloured apron snugged against her waist, yellow gloves hugging her arms as she scrubs the porcelain dishes mercilessly. All the while, still managing to watch the latest Korean drama.

"Yes Auntie?" You call, voice coming out as practically a huff of breath. She cocks her head to the side, greeting you with a welcoming smile, the corners of her eyes creasing in glee when her gaze lands on her eldest niece.

She was genuinely happy in your presence — it give her an odd sense of guardianship and protectiveness over you, because she never had children of her own.

To her, you were her daughter.

"So...?" She drags, mocha eyes shimmering with anticipation like that of a teenage girl waiting for the latest scoop on the school's most popular boy.

"So what?" You return, eyebrow arching as you lean against the doorframe, hesitant to invite yourself into what seemed like a good opportunity for your aunt to squeeze unwanted information from you.

She giggles. "The boy I mean. Don't think I didn't see anything." Finally facing you after washing the last dish, she rises her arm, rubber glove in hand as she held it above her head threateningly, aiming for you.

Shuffling back, a nervous peep of laughter escapes your lips, her smile becoming crooked as her gaze fixed itself onto its target. "Ah you mean him?"

Your insides collapse as the middle-aged woman eyes you knowingly, placing her weapon the on the counter with an understanding that she wouldn't have to resort to slapping you with the gloves to get you to spill. "Yes. Him."

You groan, caving into the pressure, hand landing on your forehead in annoyance. "Don't even get me started..."

"Oh this already sounds fun." She muses, inspecting the cupboards for her favourite nighttime beverage — Oolong tea.

"Oh, 'fun' is the last way to describe this." Arms folded over your chest and nostrils flaring in anger, your face stained a crimson.

The whole ordeal was bothersome — especially the fact that he was decent looking too.

Not going to lie, the man's eyes were certainly bewitching — his dark orbs like that of a black whole, pulling you towards him with a certain gravity, then sucking you in whole. His cunning smirk, cursing or should I say, blessing your memory. His hushed words, replaying in your mind on a continuous loop — somehow intriguing.

The whole combination surely was enough to make any woman a complete shipwreck.

With you however, there was something more...

The guilt card.

The stupid guilt card.

"Yeah... Last time we met wasn't under the best circumstances." You grumble, making yourself comfortable in one of the dinning table's chairs.

"Care to elaborate?" Your aunt sasses, drowning her teabag with steaming water.

"Coco peed on his leg when I took her to the park yesterday..." You squeeze your eyes shut, fingers clutching the hem of your uniform skirt as you cringed upon the fantastic memory returning. "Worst part is... I didn't apologize."

"Pft! Hahahahaha!"

Your eyes narrow into small slits, shooting daggers her way. Yet, she continued laughing hysterically, tears brimming her eyes and hand clutching her stomach as she struggled for breath.

The irony of the situation was simply too much for the old woman to handle.

You send her an unamused look, which she shrugs off, after catching her breath.

Which... Took awhile.

"So, wait lemme get this straight. He's our customer?"

"Yup," You pop the p sound playfully, lips rounding into a pout. "And he's in the room directly above mine."

"Oohoo~ Scandalous~" She teases. "Honestly though, you could've just given him any other key..."

The sudden realization settles in — hard.

Swallowing the lump of idiocy in your throat, you force a smile. "Oh yeah... Guess I didn't realize."

"Still, this makes things a lot more interesting." She snickers, fuschia lipstick staining the rim of her teacup. She'd never seen you fret so much over a boy before, and thruth be told, it was certainly amusing. "Well, I'm sure he won't be staying long — probably just for a few days and then he'll be on his way."

"I sure hope so..."

But you didn't hope so. Instead you wished that he'd stay — just long enough to apologize of course. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Or so you thought...

BTSgotJams_170

2018 07 11