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 heartbeat carried a methodical tune, my body felt as though it was resting on a fluffy white cloud in the cerulean sky, all the stress and qualms that once assailed my body had been decimated, entirely nonexistent.
I couldn't recall when it was that I had taken my rest, how long had I been asleep for? Did I even care enough? The peace that I felt when I was sleeping was enough to stop any worrying questions from permeating and ruining such a benign moment for me. Instead, I kept my eyes closed, my arms wrapped around the body that I had momentarily fallen asleep next to.
I heard a quiet inhale, followed by a deep exhale.
My eyebrows frowned, and my lips pursed when a quite familiar noxious smell inundated my senses— a strong odor of burning tobacco and smoke tainting the purified air that supplied me with my now tarnished oxygen.
I opened my eyes, seeing that I was lying against a bare chest, my arm wrapped over the lean display of muscles that were firm against me.
It was Yoongi.
The scars on his body were the first thing that stood out to me as I allowed my eyes to adjust to this new setting after a few hours of slumber. I remained still, looking upward toward the man who lay against the headboard, a cigarette in his left hand between his pointer and middle finger, allowing the stick to burn, the smoke disappearing into thin air.
I watched as he brought the cigarette up to his soft lips once more, taking another inhale of the stick that crinkled in response to the moisture against the white paper. He allowed it to waver against his tongue, exhaling the contaminated smoke from his pink lips. The very lips that had feasted upon my countenance and steaming body not too many hours ago. My cheeks reddened when I remembered, a meretricious ache in my core that pulsed upon such an enchanting memory. My heart clenched, feeling a sort of peculiar connection with the man that lay beside me. I never got the talk, but I was aware that many said one should reserve themselves for someone special, and close to their hearts.
I can now see why.
I felt as though my soul had become, somehow, tangled up with Yoongi's. It was the closest we had ever been— skin to skin, lips to lips. I planted my teeth above my lower lip, trying to stop myself from recalling the night before, being pelted with beguiling sentiments that dug at my brain, implanting itself, and making its presence known.
It was a special night, one I never thought I would ever have. One I never thought I would get the amazing opportunity to share with someone so close to me. Someone I trusted. Someone that would take their time with me, and make sure that I felt loved throughout. Even after, Yoongi had made sure to hold me close, to kiss me sporadically, his hands massaging my waist and back as I fell asleep in his arms that expressed his avowal of love.
Yoongi took another inhale of his cigarette, and I took a moment to fake my waking, stretching my arm out that was slung over his body. I retracted it, tracing my fingertips above his bare body, my hands swiping gently over his belly button, going over that ghastly scar on his side that he received on that fateful night.
