Telepathy (Yoongi x Reader)

Chapter 12

"So," Yoongi began. He was dressed in his usual joggers and t-shirt, it was his bedtime. His brother and sister-in-law were reclined on the couch, snuggling on top of one another. Jane and Ji Hoon were asleep, this was their only time to be intimate. But sometimes they forget that there was one other person around. There had been so many times where Yoongi wanted to throw water on them but it was their house that he's staying at. And until he can figure out another place to go, he'll just have to hold in his vomit. "Y/N's coming over in a bit," he continued.

"Our Y/N?" Ji Eun asked.

"Honey, she's not our kid," Seokjin pointed out. "But is it our Y/N?"

"Yes, our Y/N," Yoongi answered, emphasizing the 'our' part with a certain fondness he didn't know he possessed.

The couple tangled themselves from each other. "Why?" Ji Eun questioned. "Are you gonna be mean to her again?"

Yoongi sighed, he hadn't thought of what to tell them. He actually wanted to keep it a secret, but it was impossible to sneak someone into their house, especially when it's you. So he might as well come clean. "No, I'm not going to be mean to her," he corrected. "She's helping me."

Seokjin narrowed his eyes,"You're letting someone help you with something? That's new. What is it?"

"Sleep..." he answered slowly, a little nervous at how the couple would react.

"Excuse me?" Ji Eun gasped.

"Not in the way you think!" Yoongi exclaimed. He rubbed the back of his neck impatiently. "You know how I have the nightmares right?" They nodded. "Well, when I hear Y/N sing, I don't have them. I don't know how but I'm able to sleep through the night when she sings."

"That makes sense," Seokjin commented. "Her singing helps with Jane's nightmares too. So maybe it's genetic."

"How long is she going to help you for?" Ji Eun added. Yoongi hadn't thought about that part at all. "I mean, she can't do it forever. One day she'll have a boyfriend and I don't think he'll appreciate his girlfriend being in the same room as another guy late at night."

He grumbled, she was right. Yet it bothered him to no ends thinking about you with someone else. Just then, a knock on the door made Yoongi jump. Right on time. "Please don't make this any more awkward than it already is," he begged before opening the door.

It was as if you had walked into a set of a TV show when you entered the apartment. Seokjin and Ji Eun sat animatedly on the couch, trying their hardest to not look at you but failing miserably. Yoongi must have told them to not say anything. You chuckled to yourself while feeling Ji Eun's burning gaze. You hadn't told her about the arrangement. One because you didn't know what to say exactly, and it was something you wanted to keep between the two of you, which was impossible considering he lives with them. But oh well, mistakes were made.

The guest bedroom was converted into Yoongi's safe haven. Black curtains covered the massive windows. On the walls were posters of American musicians you had only heard about in the movies, The Beatles, Billie Holiday, Nas. There was a keyboard in the corner, along with some audio equipment that you could recognize because they look like the ones from Hoseok's and Namjoon's studios. His grey sheets were neatly tucked before he pulled them aside. He gingerly climbed onto his bed and you tried to make yourself small in the corner. "What are you doing?" he asked impatiently.

"Honestly, I have no idea," you confessed. He gestured with his head to tell you to take the spot next to him on the bed. You figured he would be the last person to try to take advantage of you or even thought of you in the way. So you tucked yourself in. "Now what?"

"Well, I usually scroll through my phone until I fall asleep."

"And how long does that take?
"Like an hour," he shrugged.

"An hour?!" you exclaimed. "Why did you tell me to come so early then?"

"I don't know," he said firmly. He did know, it was because you're the only one he felt at ease with.
"Okay," you exhaled. "Well if it's gonna be an hour, let's at least talk."

"About?"

"Your hobbies?"

"Making music."

"Favorite food."

"Pork."

"That's a category of food," you pointed out.

"Spicy marinated pork," he tried again and you were pleased with it enough.

"Favorite color?"

"Black."

"Favorite book?"

It was the first one he had to think about. He couldn't remember the last book he read that wasn't music related. "Next."

"Don't you want to ask me anything?"

"Why would I want to?"

"Yoongi, remember our deal?"

He rolled his eyes. You had written some guidelines for the deal, like how he had to be nice and act civil. "Fine," he groaned. "What's your favorite food?"

"Ramen."

"Color?"

"Purple."

"Book?"

Oh shoot, you didn't know either. You've read so many that you like. It was hard to pick a favorite. It was as if he was asking you to pick your favorite child. "Skip," you said dismissively, hoping he didn't think that you were making fun of him.

"Alright," he said slowly. "Hobbies?"

"Reading, writing, listening to music. Sometimes Jimin uses me as a mannequin to help him out with choreographies. But I enjoy watching other people dance. Hmm, I also go hiking and bike riding with Namjoon occasionally."

Yoongi's eyebrows twitched at the name. "What about singing?"

"Oh, that?" you chuckled. "It's something I do when the boys ask me. I didn't think I was good until someone at the company pointed it out. And since they needed a female voice at times, I thought it would be nice to be useful."

"Do you want to be a singer?"

"Oh god, no. There's too much pressure and too many rules. And I don't like the spotlight all that much. People wouldn't pay attention to me anyway."

"That's not true," he mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "But I've noticed something. You like to be useful to people."

"Huh, I guess that's true. If I'm useful, people won't throw me away."

Yoongi felt his heart cracking a little at that confession. He looked away,"So what do you want to do?"

"Hmm, a therapist. I don't think there's enough mental health care in our culture. It's too stigmatized and I want to help break that wall. It's okay to not be okay. But it's not okay to be denied help."

"Is that what you're doing with me?"

"In a way, you're a good subject."

"Thanks," he closed his eyes and after a few minutes, he was snoring softly. So you began your lullaby. And it was like this every night. Just the two of you. You wondered how long it would last but temporary was still something.