CYPHER | BTS

32: SCARS

- T H I R T Y  T W O-

June 29, 2020
Monday
Concert day, day 2

📍Fukuoka, Japan
Performing at: Fukuoka PayPay Dome

༺❀༻

Choi June

The morning consists of white sheets, satisfaction, and an airy breeze. White sheets rumbled from the satisfying way I'd slept through the entire night. An airy breeze coming from the open balcony doors. Which is odd, because as I blink my eyes at the way the curtains blow in the wind, I could've sworn we closed it last night.

But a guitar strums from outside. I turn around beneath the sheets to find the bed empty beside me. I know better than to think anything of it. How typical of him to not sleep. Despite me finally getting the sleep I'd lacked in the days prior, Yoongi still struggles. Maybe he always will.

I sit up in bed and rub the sleep out of my face. I'd never been a morning person. Hate it with a passion.

I find the will power to roll out of bed to be met with the way the chilly air kisses my skin. And like the curious person I am, I head straight for the balcony doors, following the sound of a soft melody.

I lean against the door and watch the man in front of me strum the chords of his acoustic. He's sitting on one of the chairs we'd sat in just last night, staring out at the morning view beyond us. His feet are kicked up onto the other chair, his guitar in his lap as he lazily strums some random melody he probably wrote off the top of his head.

I don't notice it at first, not until he sighs and shakes his head, abruptly stopping the strum of the guitar. His feet come down and he leans forward, scribbling something in that infamous writing journal of his that rests on the table.

He's hidden it from me since the day I found out it even exists. He must've left to go get it and his guitar early this morning.

I wait for him to stop writing, for him to return to his guitar, and then I say, "Hey."

His head turns at the sound of my voice. He's got these big, innocent eyes that make him look so cute in his most vulnerable moments.

"Hey," he trails off, setting his guitar down to lean against the table.

He watches as I walk up to him, eyes flickering down to my legs for just a second before they're back up. While his eyes are on me, mine are on his journal. That damn journal. I want to know everything that's written inside. I want to hear it, listen to it, consume it.

"Writing music, huh?" My fingers inch toward the journal on the table, but Yoongi snatches it before I can even graze it.

"Maybe." He's got this annoying smirk on his face as he holds it away from me. He grabs the hem of my t-shirt and pulls me closer to him. Right in front of him. "You're way too curious about this journal. You haven't taken your eyes off of it since you got out here."

I tear my eyes away from it right then. "What? No."

He knows I'm lying. Can see it all over my face. And it's not like I'm trying very hard to hide it either. I am curious about the book. The words he's written from the bottom of his heart, all within reach of me and yet so far away.