방탄 소년단
"That... gash," I muttered, my nose rumpled in disdain - and sympathy for the man - as I studied the newly developing scar on his right eye.
It was fresh, the skin that surrounded the vermilion wound was puffy and distended, as if it just hap...
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My heart was fuzzy. It carried a tune I had no idea was plausible, echoing all throughout my body, wavering its harmonic music and brightening the diminished mood I once seemed to invariably bore.
Even the teasing comments the other guards would pelt me with didn't bother me.
Mikhail didn't bother me.
He had been busy with his own things, giving me time to myself — with Jeongguk — so I didn't have to constantly worry or look over my shoulder in fear Mikhail was around, waiting to start up a conversation that I so desperately didn't want.
I was completely unbothered, walking up and down these halls with an imperceptible grin on my features as I used up most of my wake fantasizing about Yoongi, and the next time we'd finally be together.
Yoongi and I tried to meet up at least twice a week now. Although, it was quite difficult with the tasks that seemed to flood his schedule. There were some days when he would skip our phone call, leaving me with a text that typically read an apology, along with 'sweet dreams' that made my stomach do a few pirouettes in return to his heartfelt message.
I tried to understand that he was a particularly busy man, and spent most of his time completing tasks for clients of his. It couldn't have been an easy job— it seemed rather difficult.
I always prayed before bed for him that God would protect him throughout his days while he worked. I feared a gun was always pointed his way, and each time he was late to call me, I began to immensely worry. I wished there was another way of knowing that he was safe.
However, it seemed God knew when I began to worry too much as Yoongi typically sent a text message shortly after my game of overthinking.
I was relieved he was safe, but I was also just as disappointed because that meant no one-on-one time together on the phone. Our one-on-one time was very scarce. Yoongi couldn't go anywhere without Hoseok or Namjoon glued to his hip. I wondered why they were so adamant about Yoongi not being alone.
I recall the stories Yoongi told me when he was alone, and how he almost didn't make it. Was that the reason for their precaution? And anyway, how could they not make an exception for his girlfriend?
It slightly stressed me out, and I wanted to address these concerns with Yoongi— I never got the opportunity. The last thing I wanted to do was start an argument with him for questioning his brother's potent concerns for him.
It was generally the last thing on my mind whenever he would call me, it never mattered once I heard his saccharine voice that granted chills down my fragile skin, pretending he was right against my ear, whispering to me as I fell asleep, losing myself under his hypnotic tone.
I stared at my reflection in my bathroom, brushing my hair, thinking about how Sonia was typically the one to style my hair. She had been on leave for a few days, so I had time to do a few things on my own.
