from me to you. → kth | ✓

15.

chapter fifteen: be my muse

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yoongi

"I JUST DON'T understand," I say, seemingly to no one as I stare into space.

Yeri simply nods, humming, before taking a long sip out of the tea she's been nursing for a good half hour. I cringe, thinking about how cold it must be by now, but she seems to genuinely enjoy it.

"What is it you don't understand here? You act all stalkerish and without even hiding it like any other normal person would, you go tell the person you stalked!" She says triumphantly.

I scratch my head. "I didn't think she'd take it the way she did. I thought explaining what I'm doing it for would reduce the chance of any negative response."

"It's been a week. Are you so sure about that now?"

"No." I look down at my phone. It's already ten o'clock. "What do I do now?"

"Tell her the truth." She shrugs, smiling wickedly.

"Truth?"

"Come on, Yoongi. It's so obvious you like her."

I feel a heat rush up my neck up to the tips of my ears but I look away and attempt to resist. "I do not."

"You do. As I said, it's obvious. Look, why didn't you pick me to be your muse?"

I shudder. "I don't see me doing that with you. Ew."

"Rude, but okay. What about that girl you had a thing with?"

A memory of who she's talking about comes back to my mind, but I shake my head.

"No, no. I would prefer Aera."

"Exactly!"

"She has a fiance."

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Who's obviously not good enough for her. Yoongi, I can only help you if you admit it."

"Admit what? Yes, I want her to be my muse. Does she inspire me, yes, but-"

"Does your heart flutter when you see her?"

"Yes, but that-"

"Do you dream about her?"

"Okay, this is going too far." I stand, packing away my stuff.

"Wait, where are you going?" She asks, standing up too.

"To Aera's. I need to apologise to her."

"Yoongi, if you don't sit down right now!" She exclaims, pulling me down so hard it forces me back into my seat.

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'? You messed up the first time, so how do I know you won't mess this up a second time?"

"How about believing in me?" I pout.

"Will believing in you get you a muse for this work or not?"

_

I wipe my sweaty hands down my denim jeans and, after clearing my throat very thoroughly, I raise a fist to knock on the door.

A few minutes pass and she opens the door. Her hair is tied back into a low bun and now is the first time I've seen her with it styled like that. My mind immediately saves it as my favourite, especially with the way it shows her full face.

She's dressed quite casually, so that gives me the reassurance that she's not going out for at least the next few hours.

"Oh, it's you." She doesn't say it with disdain, but instead with surprise, which I personally think is better. "Is there a problem?"

"I think we need to talk."

She steps back so I can come in but that doesn't stop me from hearing what she says next.

"Don't you think you could've called?"

"I don't think you'd answer. You've been avoiding me for a long time." I chuckle awkwardly.

I hear her mumble, 'oh yeah', to herself and the sound of her fluffy slippers on the wooden floorboards as she shuffles away.

I take it upon myself to take a seat on the L couch and the awkwardness of all awkwardness begins.

She brings two mugs of tea over and hands me two cubes of sugar before sitting opposite, crossing one leg over the other with so much grace it makes me melt. I was never into women like this, what is wrong with me?

"What do you want to talk about?" She asks, her brown eyes staring into mine. She doesn't seem to do it with malice, so I'm comforted again knowing she probably doesn't hate me.

"First of all, I need to apologise for doing what I did yesterday. I let my emotions get the best of me and acted out. I'm really, really sorry."

"That's fine. It won't happen again though, right?"

"Yeah." I clear my throat. "But there is another thing."

"What would that be?"

"I- I was wondering if you thought about my proposal."

As if what I've just said jogged her memory, her facial expression starts to lose its kind look. Now, it's more serious and closed off.

"You're still asking me about that?" She responds.

"I know what it looks like, but I'm just really bad at expressing myself." I open my duffle bag and fish out the contract I signed. "Have a look at this."

She takes it from me, sceptically eyeing my hands before reading the actual document.

I managed to land a large amount of money off of this family who wanted an expressionist's piece in their home. I've already started it, but I need to let Aera know.

"So, from what I understand, I'm the centre of the project?"

"Yeah, I'd like to think so."

"Without asking me first? I mean-"

"Please, Aera," Yeri told me to confide in plan B if she gets annoyed. B stands for Beg. "I know the way I've come about this is wrong, but there's a deadline I have to meet and I really need the money."

"I don't know." She hums, folding her arms at her chest.

"Pretty please?"

"What's in it for me?"

I let a breath out as the pressure I'm feeling starts to decrease. It seems she's warming up to the idea.

"Once I get compensated, the piece with your name will be in numerous photos and magazines. Like merchandise almost." I say.

"Give me some time to think about it." She stands, leading me back to the front door.

"Does this mean you forgive me then?"

"Forgive you for what?"

"Acting like a stalker," I mumble.

"Acting? I thought it was for real." She says, eyebrows furrowing. Once she sees my expression, however, she starts to laugh.

It isn't the prettiest sound, nor does it mirror her physical elegance. But I know it's genuine.

"You had me scared when I saw the pictures at first. But I did take some time to think of other possible explanations. Besides, I doubt a stalker would admit their actions."

"That's a relief." I smile. "Thanks for letting me explain."

"No problem." She smiles back and shuts the door behind me.

All I can do now is hope she isn't peeking through the peephole, or else she'll see me jumping for joy like some teenager.