Newcomer

The Move

Moving from the sweltering heat of Arizona into the rainy chill of Washington was surprisingly easier than Yoongi expected. He's always been more of a cool weather guy than anything. Don't get him wrong, he appreciates a good sunny day, one where the sun kisses his skin and warms him up from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. But Yoongi's always found happiness in pulling on fluffy socks and warm clothing when the weather outside is just a tad too cold, too unforgiving. He'd rather smother himself in layers than feel the need to pull them off.

Which is why when his mother announced that her and his step father were moving back to South Korea, Yoongi asked to stay with his dad. It's not that he didn't love her, or hated his step father or anything like that. It's actually the opposite. His mother had always been warm and funny, whereas his step father cracked too many jokes and was an honest man. So no, he didn't hate them. But, he needed something new. And he knew his father would be glad to have him, and Washington was a good place to relocate. A good place for a fresh start.

Leaving Arizona was bittersweet.

His friends, very few, wished him goodbyes with unshed tears glimmering in their eyes, and Yoongi had to choke back his own emotions. When he got to the airport, the way his mother held him made it seem like she would never see him again. Yoongi had to promise her that he would visit as often as possible. And when his step father came forward with a sad face, he knew this was much harder on them than him. He loves them with his whole being, but sometimes... change is good.

The flight to Washington was smooth, a morning flight that Yoongi slept through. It wasn't long though, only a few hours. Still, Yoongi always feels a bit more tired nowadays. He thinks it's because of the stress of the move, but who can know for sure. When he stepped off the plane and saw his father, he knew he made a good choice.

"You've grown skinnier since the last time I've seen you." His father says, voice soft and reserved. They haven't seen each other in years.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I grew a couple more inches. So, I guess I just never made it up for it."

"Oh. You still look grown. You're a man now." If Yoongi hears the pang of guilt in his father's voice, he ignores it.

"Thank you."

The house, for the most part, is exactly how Yoongi remembers it. Tall white wood with two levels and multiple windows to let in neighborhood views. His heart wrenches slightly, but he's happy. He's just nostalgic. He tries to grab his bags, but his father beats him to it. He smiles lightly, grasping securely around the tiny cactus he brought from Arizona. A parting gift from his mother. As they make their way into the house, Yoongi speaks.

"This place hasn't changed much, huh?" He speaks clearly, wanting to encourage more conversation between them but it's awkward. Just, plain awkward. He's not entirely sure of how to go about this. He's not much of a talker himself.

"No, not really. I'm always busy with work and there isn't anyone else around. So, it's just... never been refurbished. Maybe since you're here you can bring in some style." This is nice. Jokes. He likes this.

Yoongi smiles. "Yeah, that'd be cool."

They head further into the house, travelling up the stairs to Yoongi's room. Like the rest of the house, Yoongi perfectly remembers every detail of the room. The queen sized bed, the wooden nightstand, and the purple sheets. But what really gets to Yoongi is the collection of old drawings he drew for his father on the wall. Hung up with other crafts items, it's displayed neatly and almost in a childish manner. It's heartwarming.

"I put new sheets down on the bed for you, cleaned the whole room up so you wouldn't have to fuss in here. Do you like purple? I got these from Mrs. Sanderson down the street, her daughter doesn't need them anymore and they fit the bed so she gave 'em to me. That's cool, right?" His father's face was pinched, and Yoongi could read all the harsh lines in his skin.

"Yeah, dad. It's cool. Purple's a nice color." His dad breathes out a sigh of relief.

"Thank the lord. Was hoping you wouldn't ask me to return them. I wouldn't be able to face her if I had to return them. A sweet lady, she is. But she's also got one hell of a tongue." Yoongi barks out a laugh.

"Wow, uh, yeah. Purple is cool, sheets look soft too." Yoongi muses, setting his cactus down on the night table and running his fingers through the fabric.

"Oh yeah, it is. She bought the sheets, but she ended up doing some knitwork with it. I didn't ask too many questions. Kind of just grabbed them and left. Sweet lady, she is. Anyways, i'll uh- let you get settled. I'll order us some food."

When his father walks away, Yoongi releases a small huff. Yoongi wonders how many times his father must've come back in here and stared. Wondered when his little boy would return? Yoongi regrets not visiting more often. But he can make up for lost time now. The years may have left them, but the memories he'll build here will ensure his mark on the small town of Forks. It has to.

Yoongi's putting away the last of his clothes when he hears a truck rumble up in the driveway. He finishes his task, and moves towards the window. It's a man, seemingly Korean, with tan skin and a nice face. Yoongi's guessing he's his father's friend, if the way his father runs out the house to greet him is any indicator. He pulls away from the window and goes down.

"I can't believe you brought this old thing all the way here and expected me to drive you home." His father yells, though it's obviously a joke. The man curses at him.

"Ya' mean to tell me that I brought this precious truck all the way from the reserves for your son and this is the thanks I get? I'm leaving. And I'm taking my fish fries with me!"

His father's face drops. "Fuck, I'm joking. Bring that shit here! I'll drive your ass all the way to Atlanta for those delicious fuckers."

"Uh, hi." Yoongi coughs, not really sure where to start. It does the trick though.

"Ah! You came down just in time, son, meet Mr. Jeon." Yoongi smiles at the man, and shakes the hand the older man stretches towards him.

"Ah, shut up Min. You know Yoongi here remembers me. Don't ya? Back when you were like what, four?" Mr. Jeon laughs. "Just kidding. If I can't remember yesterday's dinner, you surely can't remember me."

"Ah, I don't know, Jeon. Are you sure you can't remember because of the alcohol you drank?"

"Quiet, Min. Or I'll take this truck back and hit you with it." Mr. Jeon threatens, before turning his gaze back to Yoongi. "Speaking of, you like your truck?"

Yoongi stops shuffling his feet and furrows his brows. "My truck?"

Mr. Jeon lets another rumble of a laugh, bringing his palm up and slapping the back of a bright orange pick up truck. Yoongi widens his eyes in shock. There's no way-

"This? This is for me?" When Mr. Jeon smiles, Yoongi can't help but choke out a laugh, mouth grinning beyond its normal use. "I don't- thank you! So much! This is awesome."

"Anything for you, kiddo."