Red Rubies | Yoongi

2) Sex, Money, Feelings. Die.

"All I want is you
No, I don't wanna think about, think about you
Drink up, drink up
I'm so fucked up
Sex money feelings die"

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die-Lykke Li

Disclaimer: Lordy. Y'all. If you didn't finish silk sheets don't read this. It's a goddamn sequel. Did you really think there wouldn't be spoilers? 🙄🙄🙄 I can't.

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JOY

Joy usually never found people interesting.

Anything interesting really. That's a story for another day though. A story she didn't want to think about at the moment.

So honestly no, she'd never thought she'd find herself in this predicament.

Telling a man that she could help him forget a girl she'd never met. With a man she'd only met once.

And having no clue what she even meant by that statement.

Oh no does he think I'm going to fuck him? Because I'm not into one night stands.

But the man, this Yoongi character didn't seem like the type either.

The 22 year old did feel bad for him, but not in a lost puppy type of way. Even though she'd only known him for about 46 minutes to be exact, he seemed-

Unknown. Mysterious? To be cliche. Not that it mattered, she was just thinking. Not writing a novel.

He was, an anomaly.

Joy was good at reading people. It was a talent she developed, due to circumstances. From what she could tell, he was emotionally intelligent, but shied away from true emotions. Super blunt and honest, but kept the most important things to himself.

He was funny, in that witty way. But it seemed to be the only way he dealt with his sadness.

And for some reason, this Yoongi decided to tell her all about his woes. Strange for a seemingly closed off person.

The girl looked him up and down, realizing he agreed for whatever she was proposing.

What the fuck Joy?!?

He was a little tipsy at his point. She could see it from the way his pale, almost lavender eyelids fell lazily against his dark irises.

The man was slumped forward a bit, and some of his silvery blonde fringe covered his half-moon eyes as well. They were so dead, his eyes, that they were expressive. For most people, eyes were a window to their soul.

But his, his showed nothing.

It wasn't his slightly sloped nose. His mouth. His soft pale skin on his round face, and high cheek bones.

It was the sweet way his shapely, pink lips almost lifted at the corners. A forever smile, on the face that wished itself to be cold.

He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt, hanging loosely off his thin frame. His pants the same dark color. His only accessory being the silver ring he kept fidgeting with as he spoke to her unabashedly. The stranger wasn't the tallest, but he was proportionate. He was sitting towards her, elegant white fingers bracing himself against the bar.