[ UNEDITED ]

I can see the way Min Yoongi looks at me, embarrassed from forgetting that I've been crying, my swollen eyes twitch. I look down to his flowers that are being pushed my way, my lips part, my mind scattered. I'm confused and surprised of him bringing me a gift of such beauty as I say, "For me?"

He nods, awkwardly shifting from one shoe with the other.
I see him in his attire,
his disguise.

I slowly take the flowers from him, my other hand holding the dress up to my chest as I awkwardly thank him. "You didn't have to," I try to say, wiping my cheeks quickly and forcing a smile to my face.

Yoongi swallows hard. I can see how he moves from his position outside again. I hesitate to open the door for him, stepping to the side so he wouldn't shyly see my undid back. Flowers now in my possession, I see how he cooly walks in, glancing and staring around with his glasses now off. His mask leaves his face once I have the door successfully close behind him.

I squirm, cute and flushing when hearing him awkwardly clear his throat, apologize immediately and turn fast around from where he was previously gawking at. Min Yoongi caught a glimpse of my naked back when I closed the door. "It's okay, let me just change, I-"

"Change?" he asks, eyes squinting as he doesn't look to me again. I can see a redness to his cheeks acting and that only makes me wish to blush.

"Y-Yes, this is meant for the wedding day." I go back to leaning at a corner, flowers hugged to my chest. "I'm not supposed to be wearing it."

"Then why are you?" he asks this gently, staring down my hallway and towards my bedroom door which is wide open. I'm flustered, his attentions on certain parts of the apartment makes me wonder how long he's been in the hallway for.

"For fitting purposes."

He nods. "Hm."

"I'll be right out." I'm about to move past him and skip for a run down the hallway, but he speaks to me again just as I cross paths with him.

"Isn't it bad for me to see you in the dress?" Yoongi's neck jolts again, he's gulping as he shoots, "I-I just figured that I've seen that in a lot of movies, I uh, don't really follow..." he stops himself, lips puckered.

His breath hits my face and I shiver, wobbling back and hitting the middle of my back to the kitchen counter that protrudes. I wince. "N-No, I don't think it applies to what we're doing. We aren't having a ceremony, we're just signing a piece of paper so it's easier for you." I'm shy, heated as I barely look up at him and start to walk.

I don't notice Yoongi struggle in deep thoughts with that. His hand comes out to help me, to see if I'm hurt, but I don't notice that either. I'm too busy running with my bare feet back into my bedroom I shut behind me, breathless and terrified.

All I can hear as I shut the door is an awkward, "Okay, I guess I'll just make myself at home then."

Breath out of control, chest heaving, my dead heart flutters from nervousness of this sudden situation. Here I was crying and aching for Icarus in one moment, then the next, Yoongi is at my door. A fiancee I never wanted is in front of me and in the very house my love just left from. I don't know how to switch from both men, I don't know how to carry myself in my room - all I do is breath, relax, and try not staring at the bed where so much already happened.

My feet delicately move towards my closet. As I move out of the white dress, I lay it down on the dresser top, not wanting to see most of it in a while. In nothing but my underwear, I move to the clothing I have and have my eyes soften when seeing some of his sweaters still under my shirts. Even with most of his items gone from the house, there will always be something around to remind me of him - remind me of his sweetness: and today, the reminder is of all the times I would get cold, and he's give me his sweater's off his back.

With sad eyes dropping to my feet, my fingers move the hangers aside as I grab a dress. One of the many my mother bought me, knowing I'd spend time with Yoongi, she held a fitting special for me and the colours that flattered my skin.I didn't agree to her shades, or her choices in colour most of the time, but I did get to pick the styles of designs I wanted. If I was going to be forced to dress myself up for Yoongi, might as well make myself happier in the process with the shopping, right?

I pick another white dress, a different peachier tint. My mother bought a lot of white since she figured the information on Min Yoongi's favourite colour needed to be important. We've got to impress him! He's got to like you!  I would always scoff. The treatment as if I'm a doll waiting to be bought degrading, but the fitting fight in me no longer exists. I wear the fucking thing.

It has straps that cross at my back, a front that hearts my neckline, and it flows again. It flows closer to my legs than the wedding dress, making me look skinnier than my normal. I don't wear a bra with this dress, like the wedding dress, I have the dress hold me up completely. Giving myself a look in the mirror, I can't even smile to acknowledge how beautiful I look. All I see is a white, with red eyes that look puffy.

I wash my face,
I fix my makeup.

My hair is still up. I don't touch most of it, just fix the messiness by allowing a few strands to spring out with curls I make by the twisting of my fingers. My few baby-hairs stick out adorably, and my cheeks look to be swollen no matter how I conture - the crying effect is seen on my tired expression.

I give myself one last look in the mirror.
I'm still not smiling.

Grabbing small heels from the closet, I make sure they're soft and not too far from the ground. Standing to my feet, I move swiftly to the door and feel the air around me wiggle the dress around my thighs with every step taken. I know I probably look stunning as I leave my bedroom, and I'm aware I'm stunning further when catching a bored Min Yoongi's eyes double-take to eye me down.

He stands in the kitchen, looking through the fridge. Only to straighten, have the door hurt his finger that gets stuck for a moment. When he notices I catch his wandering eyes, the man clears his throat and opens the refrigerator up again. I stand, hands in front of me as I hold myself together, watching him bend to check what I've got.

"We weren't going to a party." He says this, blunt and without question. Now, now I don't feel beautiful, suddenly I don't even know if I'm attractive or not. I just feel shy and crazy for thinking to dress myself. "I feel undressed," he murmurs, bored as he straightens and closes the door again.

This time, when he looks at me, there is no sweet wandering. There is now awe that I thought I saw. There is nothing but an impatience as he goes, "Can we head out now? I'm starving."

I blink my swollen eyes.
Nodding, I want to change, wrap something on me and hide, but I know if I try to go anywhere apart from follow him out this time, he'll get mad or annoyed. I can see it from the way his back tenses.

"Where're we going?" I ask sweetly, wanting to be kind and civil if this was to be our first ever date out together.

"It's a surprise," he lamely coos, ushering for me to go in front of him as he opens my house's door. It's an awkward move as I say, "you go first, I have to lock the door". His cheeks are red again as he says, "Oh." Rushing out, I follow him and close the door behind me. As I'm locking it and not looking at him, his eyes I feel but I try to pretend I don't.

"Where'd you put the flowers?"

"In my bedroom." I don't want to say more about it. I definitely don't want to tell him that I put them up with the dress so I wouldn't see them; no matter how sweet the gesture was, it hurts to have any reminder of another man in my life so soon.

"Okay." He doesn't ask me further.

As I finish locking my door, my hand moves strands of hair out of my face as I bend to place keys in a little hole by the hallway carpet. As I bend, my chest heaves from surprise when Yoongi's hand awkwardly slaps at my hip in surprise. "Ay," he says, blushing madly as he panics and starts walking away. I straighten, eyes wide when seeing that he stopped my backside from rubbing him inappropriately on accident.

His hands shove into his pockets as he walks in front of me. I follow quietly behind him, feeling hot at my face and now the burning sensation at my hip, close to one of my ass cheeks that he thankfully missed to slap. I know he's defeatedly embarrassed from the way he walks so fast. I'm the same amount of embarrassed, maybe even more while I slow, not wanting to catch up to him.

It is when we get to the elevator down the hall where we have no choice but to stand next to each other.
I glance over at him.
He glances over at me.
When we both notice we did it at the same time, we clash our sights forward, shy.

The elevator door opens.
He ushers me to go in first, so I do. Standing towards the buttons, I click for the ground floor as Yoongi stands next to me.

The doors shut,
we go down.
I stand still, he stands still.
Neither of us do much,
not until the doors open at certain floors and people meet us in the elevator as well.

It isn't a crowd. Nothing I can handle. But there is a tension between us when my thighs side grazes his jeans. I blink fast, my chest taking in air - why it affects me so, I can't comprehend other than I'm tense. Yoongi is weird about my closeness as well, but he does nothing but leave a shaky breath from his nostrils - hitting my bare shoulder, I shiver again.

When we walk out of the building I live in, I follow his shoes that guide me to a tinted car that he drove here with. I know it's not his but a rental, and I feel a little fluttery in my stomach when I get to the passenger side. Yoongi doesn't open the door for me, and I don't expect him to as I climb in. Belt on, face forward, the side-glances we share are constant as we start to roll.

I don't know where he's taking me,
but there is a nervousness inside my stomach.
I wonder.

The radio is on,
I don't change or extend my hand to touch it at all.
But then, then,
One of his songs play - a Bangtan song named "Blood Sweat and Tears" starts to softly coo out and the fluttering at my stomach heightens.

Yoongi shifts in his seat. I guess he can see me staring at the side of his face while he drives the small streets of an outer-part to our home town. His fingers go to change the channel, his eyes never leaving the road. The channel now goes to a news one, a man very angered and clear with his statements, my head almost explodes. Hesitantly bringing my hand forward, I change the channel back to Bangtan's song.

Before Yoongi could look at me from confusion or any sorts of shock,
I shyly look to the front,
watching the road.

I made it in time for Yoongi's voice, and verse, to catch my ears. I listen as it's too late for the man to try and change the station over.

I want to say, "You've got a beautiful voice," but all that comes out is "Nice."

"Hm." Yoongi's jaw muscles flex and I notice them move. To lie and say that he doesn't look attractive with a glow beside me would be unfair, I bury such thoughts within me, sealing my lips shut and listening to the rest of the song fill the silenced car.

When we drive for a long while, the uneasiness I feel regarding where we're going is constant. I look around, blinking and eyeing the buildings that become bigger and bigger the more we travel. The lights become more flashier, and lesser people are on the streets. I notice the richness in the area, in the clothing the people wear, and the way men escort women out of the cars for fancy hotels that swing in rings on this street.

I think back to how I'm dressed and notice I fit. If anything, Yoongi is underdressed but for reasons that go beyond me. I'm too in awe to question him, looking out into the beauties of the downtown upper-class. Smiling to myself when we finally come to a stop, my stinging eyes squint from the harsh lights that cascade through the windows.

Yoongi moves away his mask, but he keeps his glasses on.
His hat is thrown to the back of the car, his hair thrown around by his fingers as he fixes himself.

"I can't believe we're doing this," he's moody, mumbling to himself as he parks the car and nudges his head for me to follow him.

I do. Although the area looks beautiful on the inside of the car, stepping out and facing the culture, the people, and the mannerisms on the outside is a whole new story. I step out of the car, straighten out the skirt of my dress, and wait until Yoongi is fairly by my side.

"I didn't know you'd bring me here, isn't it dangerous for you if anyone sees us?"

"They won't care around here," Min Yoongi says, his glasses shielding him from the harsh lights - it's as if he's used to the pain that reaches one's eyes because of them - like he's been here before. "I've brought other women in this same location before."

I shut up at that. "Oh." That's enough questioning for today.

"Table for 2?" the man at the front greets us kindly.

I smile kindly, nodding as Yoongi grumpily says, "Yeah, make it fast."

My eyes narrow a little at him talk so rudely to the worker. Swallowing up my opinions, I watch as the table is ready for us right away. Seeing the eyes I receive as I walk through the grand place, it's as if there is a fest for royalty happening. The walls and furniture holding an almost golden colour similar to the rings and necklaces Yoongi and I wear.

We reach our table. It's more of an isolated boothe and I can see past glass doors what others seemed to be doing behind their closed doors. Inappropriate footsie-games I see from every corner, some couple taking it to extremes and having curtains draped in their enclosures. My mind wanders, my cheeks are hot, and I don't know what is expected of me when the waiter assures us to find our sits in the tiny room only for us.

It's the first I've seen anything like this. The only time I've booked a room was when I was younger, celebrating with all my school friends at an arcade near my parent's home. Other than that, I had never heard of a dine-in with only two to three people, designed for couples, with curtains on the doors...what?

As the waiter leaves, the wind that brushes my body makes me skip forward a little. Yoongi is taking off his glasses, combing his hand through his hair again, and already sliding into the boothe. I awkwardly stand there for a second, seeing Yoongi look at me.

"Put the curtains down would you."

Now I'm really confused. "Excuse me?" I ask, trying not to get flustered but failing.

"Curtains, I want some privacy in here," he mumbles, not understanding the huge elephant in the room that needed to be addressed.

"Look," I embarrassingly begin, "I'm not going to allow you to touch me tonight. I know we're technically engaged now, but bringing me to this fancy restaurant doesn't have me owing you anything in return."

Yoongi's face squints in slight disbelief, "I know," he defends, voice high, "I was barely planning on talking to you, touching you was barely on my mind. Calm down and just close my side of the curtain if you feel to be so scared."

My voice sounds childlike. "Oh," I pop, swallowing hard when I look away from him and move to close the curtain. I struggle for a while, unable to reach a side that is stuck between the edges of the closed door. Shyly keeping my dress down the best of my abilities, I refrain from giving glances from anything other than while doing what I can.

[ YOONGI'S P.O.V]

My defensive state falls when I stare at you struggling with the curtain.

My eyes stare at your body.

I watch your legs, I glance at the back of your thighs, then I'm able to see up a little of your dress while you try to reach high parts of the curtain. A gentleman would help you, look away. I try to be that as I scoot to the side of the boothe, wanting to come and help you. But I freeze when I notice the underwear you wear, along with a little of your ass that curves to tease my eyes.

Slapping myself awake when noticing who I was perversely gawking at,
I try not to admit the reasons why I had chosen to request this table.
Of course I was planning on a little touching, let's be honest here.

Sighing, I get away from the table, grab your arm with a flinch away from the curtain and yank the trapped side of the string out. Pulling and easily having the curtain fall, I blankly stare back to your eyes that clearly look embarrassed.

I glance down at your chest that moves, I stare for a little long as I lick my bottom lip.

Abort mission, Yoongi! I scold myself, slapping my inner urges again as I shut my eyes, shake my head and point to the table. "Just sit and go order please," I sing out, clearing my throat for the millionth time tonight.

You nod, move away from my hand that holds your arm. You walk away and I try not to stare at your backside as you walk away but fail. Collecting the remaining dignity I have left, I sigh inside my mind and move towards the table where I scoot back in.

I keep my space from you,
I plan on doing so for the rest of the night.

[ YOONGI'S P.O.V. END]

I stare at him from the corner of my eye at points. We talk, but it's small and uneventful. I don't want to admit it but he bores me, and I'm sure I bore him. He doesn't care to ask me about my life, my interests, and my accomplishments, so I don't bother to ask him about his. Immature I know, but I'm still too sad from this morning, all I want is to go back to Icarus.

This date reminds me of the times Icarus would cook for me, feed me, pour out some wine and then later have me cuddle with him for a movie. Date night, we called it. It was different from what was happening here, today, with Yoongi by my side.

We get food. I pout when the main courses I get are smaller than the sizes of my palm. I don't order a lot, while Yoongi orders all that can fill him and five others. I grumble under my breath, just wanting ice cream and a curl up in a nice blanket. Sighing, I look through the menu a third time. I stare for a desert, just simple ol' ice cream. But all I see are words I can't pronounce and pictures that look like live animals are being served. Whining internally, when the waiter comes for another round of serving Yoongi, I gently ask, "Do you guys have ice cream? Just plain vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry?"

I can feel Yoongi with his full mouth look up from his plate, face confused and adorably-filled cheeks like a chipmunk. He stares at the side of my face asking for such orders, then looks to the waiter who sadly shakes his head. "Do you have milkshakes with those flavours?" I ask sweetly, only to get rejected for those requests as well.

I try not to pout, nibbling my bottom lip as I nod. The waiter apologizes again and I go, "Then I'll just have my part of the check please." The man looks at me weird at that, confused over the sudden change of a smiling waiter, I look to Yoongi who also gives me the same stare. "What?" I ask innocently, "I'll be paying by credit." I smile when the waiter nods slowly, walking back and closing our glass door behind us.

"What was that?" Yoongi mumbles, swallowing his food.

"What was what?"

"Asking for your side of the bill...I would've paid for you."

"Oh," I blink, "I just thought-"

"Used to paying for your boyfriend?" he asks this as he sips the coffee from his mug. It's too obvious for me not to take it offensively.

"Since when is it wrong for a woman to pay for a man?" I snap softly, not wanting Icarus dragged into a conversation that should exclude him. "It's the 21st century."

"I didn't meant to offen-"

"Yes you did." I snap again. There is a slight freedom in the environment around me. Yoongi's letting me talk full sentences more without cutting me off, and I live off that.

"Wasn't my full intention."

"Okay." I try not to scowl as I focus on my food.

His eyes lingering on me as I pick at the little amounts of food remaining. I don't look at him until we've done paying for the bills separately, left the restaurant and gotten back into the car. Mid-drive, I finally glance back at him when I notice that he hasn't been able to stop staring my way. "Is there something on my face?" I snap, agitated, "You keep staring."

Yoongi's brows jump at my successful snap.

[ YOONGI P.O.V ]

There's the loudness I remember.
There's the snapping.
Ugh.

I stare in front with my brows still high, driving in the darkened night.

[ YOONGI P.O.V. END ]

"Or is it my weird looking nose that's bothering you?" I grumble, shifting in my seat and leaning closer towards the window. The more I'm away from the idol, the better I feel.

"I didn't mean the nose comment," he grumbles back, "I was trying to lighten our situation yesterday but you kept refraining from talking or listening to you."

"Since when does listening to a man consist of obeying him like a lost puppy? I didn't want the ring but you forced it on me, don't blame me for taking everything you say seriously since our natural dynamic doesn't involve jokes." That's a lot I've spoken out. This right here is the most I've said to him since we first met.

I take a frustrated breath in.
His hands clench around the steering wheel, he doesn't look my way.

"Chill out with the snapping. So what? I made a little jab at your boyfriend for not paying for your meals? I would've used the same insult if you were dating a woman and she did the same. In either scenarios I just found it to be a free-loading situation." He shrugs, but it's an angered shrug that has a sharpened pop to it.

I don't say anything to that. "Just stay out of my business," I change the topic, finishing it with what I think to be a 'cherry-on-top'.

"You are my business now, you're my fiancee." He snaps back, driving but barely paying attention to the road.

"Just yesterday!" I shout this, "Literally just yesterday, so don't you dare use that as an excuse for wanting to question my movement. I know that it's crazy, we're getting married before you leave by the end of the week but I need you to understand that we're both stuck in this fucked-up situation. You don't see me trying to monitor your life already..."

"I'm not trying to moni-"

"Whatever."

His jaw clenches.
Mine does too.

We don't speak to each other the entire ride.

The fact that "Save Me" from Bangtan starts to play on the radio now pisses both of us off. Both of us reach to shut the radio off when his part comes to ring in our ears. Flinching away from each other, like children, we huff angered breaths and leave the radio on. Yoongi's rap fills the silenced car yet again.

He drives fast when we reach the parking lot. I'm glad I have my seat belt on until the car has come to a complete stop. When he unlocks the doors, I'm already about to hop out the car but he mumbles a, "Be ready tomorrow the same time, we've got a lunch to get to."

"I don't want to go."

"If I don't have a choice," he snaps, "You don't have a choice either." Then he smirks, bitter, "Ooh, marriage at it's finest."

"How romantic," I murmur, rolling my eyes as I start to unlock the door.

"Yeah yeah, get out of the car." He's annoyed and clearly doesn't want my presence around me.

"Would you quit being rude to me?" I ask, annoyed myself. But my swollen eyes twitch for something more than just anger. "I've had a hard set of days and your constant attitude doesn't help." I glance at Yoongi, seeing the slight relaxing of his muscles. Breathily sighing, I shake my head, shut my eyes, and count a good start before whispering a 'bye' and hoping out.

He calls my name, pathetically sighing himself. He still manages to show that he's bored about it and it amazes me how he can't seem to look un-cool, not even for a second. "Wait..."

I walk away, dramatically slamming the car door as he looks. I make sure not to have my dress get caught, knowing that I've done that before in my life and it hasn't gone well for me. Strutting with my heels loud towards the entrance, there's an obnoxious honk that makes me jump.

I look back.

Yoongi glares the headlights in my direction before swurvering away and speeding.

"What a class-act," I whine, lips a crisp line as I walk frustrated into my apartment building.

First failed date, check! I wonder what he has in store for the second!