The contract with Death! M.YG× Reader

Dinner with the Min's PT.2

I took a deep breath while rubbing my forehead with the heel of my palm, and made a mental note to add this little detail to my growing list of mysteries.
Mrs.Min and her mother walked in about fifteen minutes later, while Rosie and I were watching another episode of SpongeBob.
"Dinner ready yet, boy?" Yoongi's grandma asked as she whisked into the kitchen.
"Nearly," Yoongi answered.
"Rosie, come help me set the table," Mrs.Min called to her daughter.
Leftovers or not, dinner ended up being a lovely dish of fettuccine with a spicy marinara sauce, some fruit on the side, and a salad with vinaigrette. And I quickly learned that dinner with the Min's family was not a quiet affair.
Yoongi's grandma was the loudest, speaking with so much enthusiasm that she might as well have been giving some dramatic monologue.
She had this tendency to slap her hand down on the table when she was making a point, which, incidentally, was rather frequent.
She traded stories with Mrs.Min about the fiascos of running a coffeehouse, while Rosie interjected now and then, sharing her opinions about almost everything. I found myself laughing during that dinner more than I had in the past few weeks. I couldn't remember the last time I actually had a sit-down dinner like this.
I liked it. It was easy to forget your troubles when you were surrounded by people who never stopped laughing.
Not surprisingly, the only person who didn't seem to be enjoying himself was Yoongi.
He was silent throughout the whole meal, eating his jjampong with his head down, his hand clenched into a fist on the table beside his plate.
I wasn't sure if this was normal behavior for him, but Mrs.Min and her mom made no comment about it.
Rosie's head began to droop low over her plate shortly after Mrs.Min brought out cups of pudding for dessert, and soon she was yawning after every other word.
I was feeling tired myself, but still antsy, knowing I needed to find a chance to get Yoongi alone to talk to him.
"Bed!" the old lady declared, slapping a hand down on the table when Rosie tried to take a bite of pudding, missed, and smeared the chocolate on her face.
Yoongi quickly stood, probably eager to make an escape. He wiped Rosie's face off with a napkin, then scooped her up into his arms and made for the stairs. Rosie wrapped her arms around his neck, laid her head on his shoulder, and was asleep before he even made it to the first step.
Something about the sight made my heart ache in a way I didn't understand.
How could Yoongi have ever felt like he needed to end his life? Didn't he see how heavily his family relied on him? How much they loved him? How could he have wanted to leave something like that behind?
His grandmother got to her feet and followed after her grandson as Mrs.min started to pile up the dirty plates in her arms.
"Here, let me help," I said, standing.
"Oh, Y/n, that's okay, you—"
"Really, it's okay. I want to help."
Mrs.Min gave me a grateful look and made for the kitchen with the dishes. I gathered up the rest of the dinner dishes and pudding cups and set them on the counter as Mrs.Min filled the sink with hot, soapy water–no dishwasher.
"I'll wash, you dry," she said, tossing me a dishtowel.
"Sounds good," I said.
We fell into a comfortable silence as she scrubbed the dishes clean and I rinsed and dried them off. And even though we were just doing the dinner dishes, it was sort of nice to realize that there were moments silence was an okay thing.
Sometimes not saying anything could say just as much as words did.
"You know, I really appreciate your help tonight, Y/n," Mrs.Min told me as she handed me the last of the dinner plates to dry. "You did great."
"It was no problem," I said. "It was sort of fun."
Mrs.Min laughed, pulling the stopper in the sink, letting the water drain. "Just wait until it starts to get really cold. Then it's not so much fun. We go through so much hot cocoa mix, it's not even funny."
"I don't doubt that," I agreed.
"You know . . ." Mrs.Min set the stack of plates in the cupboard and leaned up against the counter. "I'm sure we could find you a waitressing job downstairs. We could always use the extra help. If you wanted, of course."
What?
"You . . . I mean, you're offering me a job?"
"If you want," Mrs.Min said again with what seemed to be hopeful eyes.
I tried to run through every scenario of what could happen if I accepted Mrs.Min's offer.
The possibilities were endless. Yoongi wouldn't be too happy, but his displeasure was just something I would have to deal with. This was too good of a chance to pass up.
"Sure," I finally said, forcing a smile, realizing I'd inadvertently been tugging on the ghost beads that hid the numbers tattooed on my wrist the entire time I'd had that internal debate with myself.
"That would be really nice."
"Fantastic." she beamed at me.
"I'll just have Yoongi—"
"You'll just have Yoongi what, exactly?"
We both turned and saw Yoongi standing at the island, watching the two of us with a wary expression.
I looked to Mrs.Min for help, unsure of what to say. "Um . . ."
"Why, Y/n has just agreed to start working part time for us down in the coffeehouse," she said, looking pleasantly at him.
The expression on Yoongi's face at hearing this was akin to having been clubbed on the back of the head. "You're joking."
"Afraid not, sweetheart," She said. "We could use the extra help, what with the holidays coming up and everything."
"Then ask Namjoon or Hobi for help," Archer snapped. "You don't need to hire Y/n. It's not like she needs the money."
I swallowed uncomfortably. He wasn't wrong. There was probably someone out there who needed the job more than I did.
"Unfortunately for you, Yoongi, that's not your decision to make. I run this shop, not you," Mrs.Min said in businesslike voice I hadn't heard her use before. She added something in the daegu accent that made Yoongi's expression go from incredulous to stoic in half a second.
"Fine," he said stiffly. "Fine. Whatever you like, Ma."
"Good," Mrs.Min said, seemingly satisfied, before turning back to me. "Thanks again, Y/n, for your help."
I was shocked when she reached out to hug me. I couldn't remember the last time I had been hugged like this—by someone who actually meant it, and not just some fleeting, one-armed hug from my parents, or in the hallways at school from a friend.
"Of course," I said, finally remembering that I was supposed to hug her back.
"Give Yoongi your number, and I'll have him call you and let you know when we can get you in for your training."
"Sounds great, aunty."
"Come on, Y/n." Yoongi crooked his finger at me and gestured toward the front door. "I'll help you catch a cab home."
I bit my lip, unsure of how to react at hearing this.
Yoongi was actually offering to do something nice for me. What had Regina said to him?
"Or I don't have to help you find a cab," he said, giving me an exasperated look.
"Your choice, really."
"No, no, that's—um. Great," I said awkwardly. "Thanks."
I said good-bye to Mrs.Min again and grabbed my coat and bag off the couch, then followed Yoongi to the door. Neither of us spoke as she shut the front door behind us and set off down the four flights of stairs to the back of the coffeehouse.
The moment Yoongi reached the bottom of the stairs, he rounded on me with the furious reaction I'd been waiting for.
"Yoongi—" I began, but his voice quickly overpowered mine.
"Just what were you thinking, coming here and spending the afternoon with my mother? That's really freaking creepy, and I distinctly remember saying that we would hang out one time and maybe sit together at lunch, and I don't think that exactly includes coming back when I'm not here to—"
"YOONGI, WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP A MINUTE AND LET ME EXPLAIN?"
Yoongi snapped his mouth shut, his eyes hardening as he glared at me.
I was definitely walking on thin ice here. From his perspective, I could see where I looked like some crazy wannabe girlfriend, stalking him to get his attention. It was so far from the truth it was laughable, but I couldn't tell him the reasoning behind my actions. I needed to settle for somewhere in between.
"Look." I took step down on the staircase, closing the distance between us. "I came to apologize. I didn't plan on staying for so long, helping out your mom. It just happened. And anyway, your mom is a nice person, and she's easy to talk to."
"You came to apologize?" Yoongi looked momentarily confused. "Apologize for what?"
Wasn't it obvious? "For . . . what I said at lunch the other day," I forced out. "You were right; I shouldn't have said anything to Mark. You're a big boy. You can take care of yourself."
Yoongi was quiet for a moment. "You know what?" He let out a harsh breath, squeezing his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Just forget it, okay? Mark is a jerk. He makes everyone do stupid things."
I almost snorted. He had a point there. "Then just . . . don't listen to him, Yoongi," I said without thinking. "He talks a load of BS, and you don't want to damage your ears."
Yoongi actually cracked a smirk at that. "I know."
I felt a flood of relief rush through me when he smiled. "Right," I said, taking a deep breath. "So about the job . . ."
The smile vanished and his usual annoyed expression took over his face again.
Yeah, about that," he said sarcastically. "You're that desperate to spend time with me you had to beg my mother for a job?"
"No," I snapped, slightly offended. "For your information, your mother was the one who offered me the job. I'm not desperate to spend time with you at all."
Yoongi rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue, and I suspected he saw right through my lie. "Right."
I shrugged off his comment and instead asked the question that had been bothering me for two days. "Why didn't you come to school yesterday and today?"
Yoongi, in the process of opening the back door, turned to stare at me with this crooked grin that made my stomach do an uncomfortable flip-flop. "I was at school. I was just avoiding you."
I felt my cheeks fill with color in embarrassment. It was bad enough Yoongi was avoiding me, and it was even worse that he knew I'd been looking for him. It made me feel so creepy.
"Come on," Yoongi said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "Let's get you a cab."
I headed after him, hoping my new job would give me a chance to get to know the real Yoongi. I had to show him that I wasn't some crazy girl following him around all the time but someone genuinely interested in getting to know him, because I wasn't going anywhere for the next twenty days.
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I don't even know where this is gonna end up😭😭😭😭