We Were Only Seven

Chapter 46

ARI'S POV

I woke up due to sunlight hitting my morning face. My eyes landed on Yoongi, who was sleeping peacefully by my side. My head was still on his arm and he was embracing me.

The reminiscences of yesterday night reeled through my brain and I felt heat travelling all over my face. I was in his shirt and he was half naked.

I was looking at him in all his glory. The way the sun bathed his pale skin as if kissing it and cherishing his beauty. He eyes fluttered open and met mine. I instantly closed mine and pretended to sleep.

I heard him giggle, "You know our eyes met already?"

I opened one eye to look at him and he was smiling angelically. I opened my eyes reluctantly, embarrassed af.

"Goodmorning baby," he said and my heart fluttered making me feel guilty. I should not be doing this. I cannot just forget Areum and move on.

"Goodmorning," I mumbled.

"What happened?" He questioned and I shook my head.

"Tell me, I want to help you through anything and everything," he spoke.

"Hyung-"

"Call me Yoongi. Or maybe baby. Or babe, or boyfie or Suga or maybe," he smirked, "dad-" I placed my hand on his mouth before he could complete his sentence, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me.

He removed my hand and shrugged his shoulders. "Now tell me."

"I feel guilty."

"For having sex?"

I shook my head, "For wanting to move on."

"Why so? You think Areum would have wanted you to sulk all life?"

"No but like... I..."

He sighed and sat up, running his hand through his hair, pushing them back. Did I frustrate him? Am I making my pain so overtly visible? But I don't wanna hide it from him. If he wants to love me, I cannot fake myself.

He stood up and left the room, leaving me confounded. Maybe I annoyed him. I sat up and hissed at the pain at the meeting of my thighs. He was indeed very gentle to me but it was my first time having sex.

He entered back and sat by my side. He placed a diary and pen in my hands and smiled. "Pour it out," he said.

"Huh?"

"Your emotions. We are the music makers, we don't shed tears, we cry in the lyrics. We bleed emotions on the paper. That's what we do. Whatever you are feeling, however sad, however disdainful. Just pour it out. Make it a song, make a symphony and let music heal you. So... What will you do?"

"Write down my emotions and convey it through a song," I said, glacing at the diary in my hands.

"No," he said sternly. Was I wrong? But that's what he said.

"You'll first shower with me," he smiled.

"W-what?" I questioned, feeling warmth travelling up my body.

"Till when will you trouble your poor bestfriend. She won't come today, she has an examination."

"Yeah, so, I can shower by myself."

He pouted, "so you don't wanna shower with your boyfriend?" My eyes widened at how he was acting, just like what Areum used to do when she was five, asking for ice cream.

"Y-You are in your late twenties!"

"So?" He questioned, "Ah whatever. Do what you like. I am going." He stood up but I held his wrist before he could leave.

"What now?" He grunted.

"Let's shower together."

He smiled broadly, "Let's get it baby." He picked me up from the bed and I wrapped my legs around his waist and hands around his neck.

"Let's brush first, yeah?" He asked and I nodded. We both brushed together, smiling and sometimes even battling at who does it better. Stupid but it made a lot of sense of us.

"Can I take this off?" He asked, holding the placket of my shirt. His shirt that I was wearing actually. I consented and he took it off, leaving me completely naked, just in my underwears.

"You wanna take this off for me?" He pointed at his boxers. I gulped and nodded, pulling it down. Soon, he stripped me off the last piece of clothing I had on and carried me to the shower.

There was nothing sexual in the bath but the intimacy was revered. It felt so sacred. He took some shampoo in his palm and rubbed it on my scalp, producing a lot of lather. I was giggling, feeling his hands over my head.

He took a little of the lather and rubbed it on my nose.

"Yah?" I questioned.

"What? You look cute," he reasoned.

I felt competitive and placed my hand in my own hair to get a handful of foam. My hand waved in the air as he backed off from each attempt I made to touch his face.

"So sad princess. You are so little," he mocked and I pouted.

He pumped out some more shampoo for himself when I interrupted him, "Lemme do it for you."

"You would?" He asked and I nodded enthusiastically.

"Surely," he smiled and I took the shampoo from his hands but he was so tall. I stood on my toes and my hands were way above my head to reach him.

I whined, "Why are you so tall?"

He chuckled and lifted me up. Again, my legs around his waist and his hands holding me protectively. I was even above his head now making me smile proudly.

I shampooed his scalp, scooping a little lather and placing it on his nose.

"This is what I get for my goodwill?" He questioned sarcastically.

"Yup!" I smiled.

"Why are you so cute? I just wanna squish your cheeks all day," he said with a fond smile making me flustered.

His one hand still around my waist, another turned on the shower and water rained over us, the shampoo washing off. After a few minutes I felt his hand behind my head, pushing me towards him till our lips met.

He kissed me softly and slowly. No haste, no desperation, just fond admiration. I felt as if in the embrace of flowers. I kissed him back, cupping his cheeks. He made it so cherishable, so gold. We parted and looked at each other. His eyes were bright and he smiled almost making them disappear.

He turned off the shower and seated me on the counter. He placed a towel over my head, drying my hair.

I placed my hands over his to stop his motion, "I'll do it by myself. You dry up yourself or you'll catch a cold."

"You sure?"

"Obviously," I said.

He leaned in and pecked me once, twice, and again. "I love you," he said softly.

I glanced into his eyes and there was so much truth that I could see, making me so overwhelmed.

"I love you two," I said and he kissed me again, this time with a more passion.

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