Jelly is a broken soul escaping from her torturous past. She's shut herself off from emotions and people. Trying to start her life from scratch she moves to a new town.
Finding a mysterious shop she comes across an offer she can't refuse that promi...
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The cold wind gently blows through my hair as I step out of the car, I pull my jacket tighter around me as I walk up to the building. I could feel my heart, beat every single pound in my chest as I made my way to the frosted glassdoor of Yoongi's studio.
Punching in the code, I step into the room, a smile takes over my face as I instantly spot Yoongi curled up on the couch asleep. His features were much softer in sleep, the lines that usually creased his brow making him look rough and scary to approach are now gone. He looked peaceful and relaxed.
I watch as he shivers and pulls his knees closer to his chest as he tries to keep warm. I walk over taking the throw off the back of the couch to cover him. He lets out a low hum as I move the hair from his eyes. I decided not to disturb him, he probably just fell asleep and he definitely needs to rest.
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I walk over to his desk switching on the lamp and notice the mess that is taking over every surface. My eyes landed on the papers crumpled up off to the side. I quietly pick one up and sit in his desk chair. There are scratched-out words all over the page as he worked on the song, but I hone in on one paragraph...
I'm the root of all this so I'll stop myself
If my misfortune is your happiness
I'll happily stay unfortunate
If I'm the figure of hate
I'll get on the guillotine
The guilt sat not on my chest but inside my brain. What I had done, I could not un-do. Everything I went through was not his fault. I shouldn't have taken it out on him, I shouldn't have aired everything out in front of the others, I should have let him speak to me privately. In my heart I retract all the bad things I ever said, they were never a reflection on him, only on my inner demons.
I hear Yoongi shuffling behind me and turn to see him sitting up half-awake, rubbing his tired eyes with the insides of his palms, his eyes bloodshot from his lack of rest.
Yoongi wears a face like he's expecting anger from me, anger that just doesn't exist. All I have for him is love. He won't accept it just yet, he feels so much misplaced guilt.
