Collision

Chapter 23

Standing along the grass, Yoongi couldn't force himself to move. Regret swelled in his gut, the sickening feeling nearly making him collapse and spill lamb along the grass.

He squeezed his eyes shut, a curse fleeing his lips. There was nothing he could do, and he hated himself more for feeling so much for someone he was never supposed to feel anything for.

Jeongguk would never be his. He belonged to the forest.

Spirit wailed, pleading to the moon above that his love to be saved. The moon heard his pleas.

Sniffing, Yoongi glanced up at the sky, where the sun was gleaming high above his head. Shaking his head, he finally turned and trudged his way back to the cabin.

As soon as he stepped inside, a tidal wave crashed over him. Everything was too silent. The scent of pine felt heavy in the air, heavier in his heart. Tears welling over, he leaned against the door and fell to his butt.

Cradling his legs, he buried his face within his arms and knees, and cried.

He cried for the boy with amber eyes, cheeky attitude, and smelled of pine. He cried for the person who understood him, had become something a bit more than a companion.

And he cried for himself.

Yoongi falls asleep against the door, curled up in a small ball.

He didn't wake till late that evening, the fire long gone cold, and the cabin falling below its usual temperature. Teeth chattering, Yoongi pushed himself up, entire body trembling from the force of the cold.

The fire must have been out a while. He could no longer feel his fingers, nor his toes, and his teeth clacked together loud enough that he winced. The sun had gone down, casting the cabin in an orange highlight.

Wincing, Yoongi staggered weakly to his feet. Moving on autopilot, he stoked the fire, carefully getting the flames to crawl higher and higher until it was a perfect blaze. Heat returned to his fingertips, relief palpable, and then he moved to checking his heater.

When the cabin had successfully returned to a lukewarm temperature to combat the cold, Yoongi glanced towards the couch but found he couldn't bear to return to it without the familiar heat of Jeongguk.

Feeling unbelievably alone, the only sound being the crackling of the fire, Yoongi snatches his phone and settled directly in front of the fire. He called Namjoon, not even bothering to find out what time it is.

"Hyung?" Namjoon answered, worry lacing his tone.

"Joon-ah," he grumbled into the phone, arm wrapping around his legs and staring at the dancing orange flames. "Hi."

"Hi?"

"I didn't realize that a greeting was questionable these days," Yoongi retorted drily. Namjoon snorted over the line. "I mean, don't you speak English, Japanese, and Korean? You would think you would at least know hello by now."

"Ha, ha, very funny," Namjoon quipped wryly. "I meant it as- it's just you never really call me... this late."

"It's not that late."

"Hyung, it's almost midnight. You're usually in bed already, or so buried in your work until it's five in the morning," Namjoon rebuked.

Yoongi blinked. Well then. "Can't a guy just call for hell of it?"

"Sure," Namjoon snorted. "If you weren't Min Yoongi, that is."

"Jesus Christ, Namjoon-ah, now I know why I never call you," Yoongi sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. Namjoon chuckled, amusement dripping over the line. "You make it impossible to enjoy it."