Yoongi Oneshot and Series || Min Yoongi

Just Say It

Just Say It by
honey_min

A  shrill scream erupted in the small apartment. Jarring and incredibly harsh, the noise pierced my ear drum and drew me away from the manuscript I was editing to find my boyfriend’s dog jetting down the hall to avoid the grabby hands of the two-year-old that was hot on his tail. She screamed happily again, two lop-sided pig tails bouncing along with her as she turned the corner into my bedroom.

“Sol! Leave Holly alone!” I ordered throwing myself out of the chair to chase after the reckless child.

In the bedroom, I found the girl struggling to crawl under the bed, her little legs kicking behind her pathetically. I reached for her and pulled her out, another scream emerging until I had her in my arms. She struggled trying to make me drop her, but I wrapped her tightly in my grip until she stopped wiggling.

“I want to play with the doggy!” she whined.

“Not under the bed,” I replied.

I carried her out of the room leaving poor Holly to cower under the bed where he often disappeared to when Sol was around. He had been more courageous early in the day because she was sick and hardly moving, but when afternoon came the poor thing had to run for his life. I only hoped he’d stay down there until his dad came home, then maybe I’d be able to get some work done.

“You’re mean to me!” she grumbled when I plopped her down on the couch where she had spent most of her morning.

Toys laid in messy heaps around her, her blanket a crumpled mess in the farthest corner. I had given her my tablet to watch cartoons on when she had woken from a fitful nap, but she had seemed to have grown bored with them. Now I scooped the tablet up and extended it to her, a mindless game set and ready for her to play. She squealed seemingly forgetting that I was the worst person in existence as she took it. I only chuckled at her change in attitude and went back to work.

She had arrived at seven in the morning nestled in her father’s arms with a low fever, a runny nose, and a painful cough. Her dad, one of my boyfriend’s closest friends and an only father, had begged me to watch her for the day while he was at work and even though I reassured him that she would be fine, I felt the same anxious worry when she slept through the morning with only small coughs to interrupt the silence. She was strong, though, and by noon was feeling well enough to chase poor Holly around the apartment. Even though it made it harder to work, I was so grateful to see her bounding around with energy.

“Holly’s not gonna like you anymore if you keep chasing him like that,” I teased, eyeing her over my shoulder for just a moment.

Sol’s bright eyes looked at me fleetingly; her little fingers tapping tapping tapping the screen of the tablet as violently as she could, as if hurting it would hurt me. I chuckled a little, watching her face scrunch up at the sound and couldn’t help how much she reminded me of her father.

Like Hoseok, little Sol was a bright bundle of sunshine that made anyone smile just by looking at her. She laughed at almost everything and never let anyone bring her down. She had an attitude though, and an air of charisma that was hard to miss. She was the carbon copy of her father and for that I was happy. The world always needed more Hoseoks.

I decided to leave her be and returned to my work trying to remember what I was doing before Holly’s misadventure. The manuscript I was reading was a medical drama that was filled with chaos, petty fighting, and a smidge of medical terminology to remind the reader that the characters were, in fact, trained surgeons. Reading and re-reading three pages gave me no indicator of where I was and I knew I was about to lose the fragile quiet in the apartment when I heard the lock turning on the front door, aware that Sol’s favorite uncle was about to enter the room.