Parapet Of Hex | myg √

.Stoppage | 중지

"The scorching rays of the sun don't embrace my skin covered with the sheet of our fading amour, yet I can feel the blue of your poison."

How truly blemished his soul really was, Yoongi realised it after had he decided to switch of his phone for reading a single messege that he never knew he disliked the most. How deeply he was hurt at himself for running away from the truth again and again; was he a coward or simply selfish?

Anne :

Meet me once you come to the hospital.

Please.

Seen at 4.00 pm √

White smoke swirling up to the sky from his nostrils to embrace the vastness of the grey tinted horizon and its foes disguised as clouds - or like a shadow bowing down to the dark in contrast - he put the cigarette away from his nearly blackened lips to gaze around. Human mind was something beyond understandable to him; for why there was continuous noise of peebles hitting the bottom of the plastered well reaching to his ears, the man could not comprehend the meaning.

Instead, he returned to his unfinished cigarette clutched between his slender fingers, inhaling the burning smell of nicotine in an order to clear his messed up brain. Seemed like people were in hurry in that afternoon; the velvet sheet the sky was wearing had turned into a filthy shade of charcoal afterwards.

Gritting the cigarette with his teeth, the man's lips curled into a lazy snort at the scene in front of him.

"A wishing well, seriously?"

He did not forget to snap at particularly none with a not-so-polished shoes, "The government still lets these shits happen? Are they giving hundred percent guarantee to send a water fairy from the well and serve it to fulfill people's prays? Tssk, what a waste of time."

Then he shut up. To be exact, he himself did not know what he was doing here.

The man remembered what he had done exactly one hour ago; his shoelaces were getting tied quicker than wearing a surgery mask at the hospital; his hair was messy from heavy sleeping since the morning but Yoongi's attention was not on it. He had locked the door and soon was found near the stationary shop to buy pens urgently. Even after searching for ten minutes, his room had screamed vacancy of an ink filled one.

He had certain things to write down right at that moment.

Ask her about her identity, Yoongi had scribbled on the notepad while stepping out from the store, since when she is there, how did she know about me. Ask her everything. 

The mysterious girl had not stopped visiting him in his dreams - in other words, he could not stop himself from seeing her again and again. It had happened two times in a row; all he had done in those moments was to sit quietly while maintaining a good distance from her. She had not budged him though; the girl gave Yoongi enough time to arrange himself. And now, he had decided to take a step ahead.

His duties were off today, so the male got a chance to think with a hassle-free mind. No matter how hard he tried seeking for a proper explanation, he was stuck in the maze of most twisted puzzles. Yoongi was one pebble away from asking Google the question burning inside his chest.

What to do when a girl named Miss No Name starts visiting you in your dreams and says she is your personal mentor for a week in a row?

Things were just not these; not to mention the most recent meeting he had with the Choe family. Yoongi sighed as the memories came sprinting back to him, throwing the man into confusion for the billionth time.

"What sketch?" he asked, perplexed. Kang Aera and her eager daughter turned to him with rounded eyes; the first quickly flashing an awkward smile to him,

"Don't mind Eunjung. She is an artist in free time. My daughter drew a lot of things before actually..."

Her voice trailed off. Yoongi did not to what to say next. Not to worsen the matters, he bowed at the elderly woman, biding her goodbye.

"Okay then, Mrs. Choe, I will be going. Please, stay safe and sound."

"You too, young man." she nodded, holding Eunji's hands. The man brought the tiffin carrier closer to his chest with a chuckle plastered on his lips. He stepped out of the corridor silently. 

"Now that I think of it, they indeed looked suspicious." Yoongi sat straight on the bench, eyebrows narrowed, "My ears must had not turned deaf this early. Yes, I have heard right! Eunji was talking something about me. But what?

Well, no, wait -" he shook his head, aghast, "Am I being too much corny? Making tubelights from small bulbs?"

Ugh, Min Yoongi. You have officially gone nuts.

Suddenly, the man jerked his head up at the cold touch of raindrop on his shoulders. He looked up and saw the sky showering him with light drizzle. From his head to his nape, an icy sensation spread across and he felt petals of life blooming in his heart. Rain was a call of peace to him.

Soon, the terrace was void of people who had taken shelters under the different sheds, waiting for the downpour to stop. Yoongi also decided to walk away, until his eyes caught a sight.

An uneasy nausea grew inside his stomach steadily. As if the world did not exist; as if nothing else mattered; as if the reality had come crushing down to him like lightning bolts - he swallowed at the little girl throwing pebbles into the well in front of him. Under the grey clouds swirling above her head, beside an elderly lady with her hands gripping onto a black umbrella, she was none other than Choe Eunji.

Yoongi was sure he had felt something like this before.

Did he see the start of his doom beforehand, perhaps?