WHISPERED PROMISE || MIN YOONGI X OC

THE NIGHT

The aroma of spices filled the air, a testament to Alia's week-long research on Yoongi's favorite dish.Since Mrs. Kim went to her native for some work..alia stays with yoongi alone..She decided to prepare his favorite food...Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she arranged the food on the table, her heart warming at the thought of a peaceful evening together.

She picked up a book Yoongi had gotten her, a classic novel she'd been meaning to read, but her focus kept shifting to the clock on the wall. Yoongi was usually home by now.

As the minutes stretched into an hour, a knot of unease tightened in her gut. She paced the room, worry etching lines on her forehead. Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, she went to the window, peering out into the darkening street. The minutes crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the growing fear in her heart.

She tried to call him.. Yoongi had gotten her a mobile phone when he came to knt that she didn't have one.. But she couldn't reach him.. She sensed that something is wrong.. She was praying for yoongi's safety..

Just as despair threatened to engulf her, the front door creaked open. Alia spun around, relief flooding her face... until she saw Yoongi.

He stood silhouetted in the doorway, a crimson stain blooming on his white shirt, a deep gash marring his arm. The air whooshed out of Alia's lungs, replaced by a gasp of horror.

In a heartbeat, she was by his side, fear momentarily forgotten. "Yoongi! "she cried, her voice laced with panic. She examined his wounds, her hands surprisingly steady despite the tremor in her heart. "How did this happen?"

Yoongi winced as she touched his arm, but his expression was guarded. "It's nothing," he muttered, his voice strained.

Alia ignored his attempt to downplay the situation. "Nothing?" she said, her voice rising a notch, a fierce protectiveness replacing her initial fear. "You come home looking like you've been mauled by a bear and call it nothing?"

Yoongi stared at her, surprised by the fire in her eyes. He hadn't expected her to be awake, let alone so worried. He felt a warmth spread through him, something unfamiliar and unsettling.

"I'll explain later," he mumbled, attempting to change the subject.

Alia wasn't having it. "No, you won't," she said, her voice firm. "You sit down right there," she pointed to the couch, "and you tell me exactly what happened."

Yoongi hesitated, then sighed. He sank onto the couch, Alia's concern a balm to the throbbing pain in his arm.

A tense silence hung heavy in the air as Alia cleaned Yoongi's wounds. The fragrant steam from the dinner she'd prepared had long dissipated, replaced by the metallic tang of disinfectant.

Her movements were efficient, practiced from years of navigating difficult situations, yet a tremor ran through her hand as she brushed against his bare skin.

Yoongi watched her, his dark eyes intense despite the wince that played on his lips with every prod. He couldn't place the emotion swirling within him - a mixture of gratitude for her concern, a strange vulnerability at being so exposed, and a simmering frustration at his inability to protect himself, let alone her.

Their gazes locked for a fleeting moment, a spark of something raw and unbidden passing between them. Alia's breath hitched, the worry etched on her face momentarily replaced by a flicker of confusion. Yoongi looked away first, the weight of his secret life pressing down on him.

"You should have been more careful," Alia said, her voice barely a whisper. It wasn't a question, but a frustrated reprimand laced with a hint of something deeper.