You walk into the studio the next day, heart heavy, bagel barely even nibbled upon, photography bag adding even more weight to your weighed down spirit. The morning that you had today was exactly the same as the one you had yesterday, but somehow, nothing Soomi or Sejun did felt the same. Sleeping in bed next to Sejun had felt wrong for the first time in years last night, and you felt even more guilty when you woke up at three in the morning after a nightmare, and he had been the one to hold you and comfort you.  When you looked at Soomi, all you could see was Yoongi. And Yoongi was the last person you wanted to see. You would be over the moon if you never had to lay eyes on him again.

Unfortunately, you have a long day jam-packed with looking at Yoongi ahead of you. It is day two out of seven that you will be shooting his band, something you learned this morning while actually reading Yuna's emails in traffic. You regret having actually listened to Yuna for once, because now you're dreading the rest of the week. A week from hell. A week of staring at the same person who haunted your nightmares last night. A week with Yoongi.

"Hey. Why do you look like a kicked puppy?" Yuna asks as she walks up to you. You throw your photography bag on the ground semi-aggressively with a heavy thud. Yuna raises her eyebrows. "An angry kicked puppy." You sigh and tear off another chunk of your bagel and shove it into your mouth with a shrug. "Really? That's all you're gonna give me?"

"Had a bad morning. Traffic." You say. Yuna doesn't fall for it for a second.

"Yeah, there's traffic every morning and you're never like this—what's wrong?" Yuna calls you out on your bullshit, and you sigh. You can't tell Yuna the man you're taking pictures of is the one who broke your heart all those years ago. She knows there was a boyfriend, and that the boyfriend was a musician, and that said boyfriend completely wrecked you when he left you, but she doesn't know it's Yoongi. She also knows you don't like to talk about it, so she doesn't ask. You especially don't want to tell her your mystery-demon-ex is within the same vicinity as her, because Yuna will not hesitate to confront Yoongi, and that's not something you think you can handle at this point.

"Period cramps. You know how I am." You say, voice lowered as if others hearing was the reason you didn't tell her the "truth" in the first place. She looks at you, clearly still suspicious, but nods.

"Well, take some Advil and try not to look so upset. The guys are gonna be ready soon, so set your stuff up." You groan inwardly, but nod, retrieving your equipment from your bag and walking over to the backdrop. There are props set up today, big, shelf-like structures the company wants you to use. Pieces of string hang from it, and your creative direction takes over as you envision what you want the photo to look like.

"Hey, Y/n." A voice says from behind you, and you turn to see a smiley Hoseok. But something's different about his smile today. There are inhibitions, and you can see them in the hesitant curve of his lips.

"What's up with you?" You ask, and he raises his eyebrows.

"Am I really that easy to read?" He sighs, letting the smile drop from his handsome features. You nod.

"Surprisingly. You have a very readable face." You explain, and Hoseok sighs.

"Yoongi hyung tells me the same thing, actually." Hoseok admits, and just by the way he says it you can tell that he knows. He knows what happened between you and Yoongi, and his change in demeanor from the last time you saw him proves that he didn't know yesterday. Proves that Yoongi told him sometime between your angry conversation and now. And based on how well that conversation went, which is, awfully, you can only imagine how Hoseok sees you now.

"Hoseok, whatever Yoongi told you about me isn't true. I just don't want you to see me like that." You explain in a hushed tone, brow furrowed in concern. Hoseok's tongue peeks out to lick his lips as they turn up into a slightly sad smile. His eyes leave yours to glance at the floor.

"Yeah, clearly." He says quietly, and, with that, he walks away, meeting the member you recognize as Seokjin in front of the wooden structure in front of the backdrop. Your conversation with Hoseok only leaves you more confused an angry than you were before. Yeah, clearly. What the hell is that supposed to mean? And whatever Yoongi said to him about you must be even worse than you'd thought for someone as enthusiastic as Hoseok to respond so half heartedly.

"I'm gonna kill him." You mumble under your breath, fiddling with your camera strap as the rest of the boys file out of the dressing room and Yuna talks with their manager. That's when you see him.

Yoongi's wearing a denim jacket and jeans, different colors but both with rips riddling the fabric. His hair is a tousled mess on top of his head that he somehow pulls off, and his long, ringed fingers fidget with his ruffled white dress shirt, and his feet clad in shiny black boots make wide strides towards his bandmates. Before you can restrain yourself, your own feet are propeling you towards him and suddenly you stop right in his path, body colliding with his own. He lets out a surprised "oh!" and steadies you with his hands on your forearms, and you shake him off as if he was the one who ran into you, not the other way around.

The ghost of his fingers on your skin from seconds prior haunts you, and you visibly shudder, only making Yoongi more confused. You hate this. You hate that he does this to you without even trying. You hate that he can make you so angry, make you throw all sense of rationality out the window. You hate that you let him affect you like that, and you hate that you can't help it, and you especially hate that you know you're acting immaturely and yet you continue to anyways. "Sorry, Y/n." He apologizes even though it isn't his fault. He seems to be good at apologizing now, a voice in your head thinks to your dismay, considering he's done it a whole lot lately. And all the times, he's been too late to fix what he broke.

"What the hell did you tell Hoseok?" You practically hiss. Yoongi's confusion only intensifies.

"What?" He asks.

"What did you tell Hoseok about me?" You murmur, feeling irrational but enraged nevertheless. He had no right to go air your dirty laundry to his bandmates. "I know you talked to him." Yoongi scoffs and narrows his eyes.

"Yeah, I did." He crosses his arms over his chest, pout on his pink lips. His lips. You can almost remember how it feels to have them touch your own, like a paper thin, fading photograph that's been lost in your mental photo album.

"That's it? That's all you have to say for yourself? After shit talking me to your friends?" You snap. The last thing you expect is for Yoongi's lips to curve up into a smile. The smile is not a happy smile, however—it's so saccharine sweet that it's sardonic.

"Who said I was shit talking you?" He says, his voice dripping with cynicism. Your racing thoughts freeze in their tracks. "Oh, right—no one. Because I didn't. I didn't tell Hoseok bad things about you—I told him the truth. That you're a wonderful person and I left you because you deserved someone better than me." Yoongi explains, his words razor sharp as they roll off of his tongue. Your blood runs cold as your face grows hot. You're wrong. You're incredibly wrong, and he's done nothing wrong in this situation. He's done something sweet, and mature, in fact.

"Yoongi, I—" You begin, but he interrupts you.

"Save it. I don't want to hear it." He says, and you fall silent, suddenly speechless. You expect him to keep walking, to glare, to continue to speak to you in a harsh, low tone, but instead, he reaches out for your arm. You try to jolt it away, but something about the look in his eyes makes you loosen up. Every fiber in your being shakes. He's touching you. Yoongi's touching you. The man you swore you'd never give contact again is holding your forearm, and before you can fully process, he's pressing something into your palm. "I heard you talking to Yuna earlier, and you always used to ask for these when you were on your per—whatever, take it or don't. But don't pin your insecurities on me. Our situation isn't as black and white as you think, and it's time you recognize that."

And like that, he brushes past you, joining his bandmates in front of the backdrop. You hesitantly peer into your hand to see two Midol pills. Your heart aches suddenly, sharply. But it isn't an ache of fear or pain or sadness, no. It's an ache of yearning.

Yearning for Yoongi, and the peopke you both used to be.