Your head instinctively turns.
The TV is on. You're sitting down with your legs close to your body when you hear a sharp noise coming from the door. You know it all too well – it's Yoongi's keychain hitting the wooden door with the many other keys he just has to carry around with him.
From the moment he walks through the door, you know it's been one of those days. His hair is sticking to his forehead a little bit and he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Even more so than usual.
It's that time of the year again. Deadlines are almost here.
You know that not just because he casually mentioned it like it was nothing a few weeks ago, but also because of the way his shoulders don't really fit into his usual posture and he seems to push every single body cell to just drag himself to the sofa and collapse next to you.
You notice there are little pen stains on his fingers that he couldn't wash away.
"So I'm guessing it was a productive day at work," you start slowly, waiting for an affirmative response. "It's past 10 p.m."
"I guess you could say that," he says with his eyes closed, his voice small and calm despite looking like he just crossed the whole desert to come home. "I'm sorry for being so late, but there's still some adjustments and..."
"How much time left now?"
"Ah, a couple more days, I guess... Until we have to send some things for them to hear." Yoongi moves his body slightly, trying to make himself more comfortable. "I don't wanna talk about that, I'm sick of talking about work."
He laughs lightly at his own statement and opens his eyes, right hand looking for yours. When Yoongi finds it, he immediately intertwines your fingers and brings them closer to his chest.
"I need to ask you something, though."
This guy has plans. You nod your head for him to go on.
"I need one of those baths," he confesses in a very low voice and a small smile appears on his lips. He knows you know what he's talking about.
"Wanna spend the bath card so early in the month?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. "Must be serious."
"It is," he agrees. "Very serious indeed. Literally, the whole next album depends on this."
"I thought you said it was almost finished," you scoff, turning your whole body in his direction.
"Yeah, but the finishing touches are like the icing on the cake, I can't mess it up now or everything will be ruined."
You both laugh lightly, almost as if you're trying not to wake up someone sleeping right next to you.
"I'm so tired, and tense, and stressed out from work, I just need it now," he tries to convince you, kissing your knuckles for better effect.
Even if it is supposed to sound exaggerated, you know with a heavy heart that it is actually true. He's just making fun of his own misery as he usually does. It's a self-defense mechanism.
"Come on, it's my bath card, I can use it wherever I want."
"Yeah, and a week after this you'll forget you've used it already and ask for a bath again."
Yeah, that has happened, like, a thousand times before.
"Can't I just get an advance from the months I won't be home?"
"You're getting advances for as long as I can remember, how is that fair to me? I don't get advances ever."
"I'll give you ten baths before going on tour, I promise," he holds onto your hand a little bit tighter and smiles again. "Please, I just need it."
