eighteen | yoonmin

fourteen.

it's routine.

6:45 AM

wake up.

8:02 AM

start training.

2:17 PM

barely lunch.

12:12 AM

go home.

—

YOONGI
June 12, 2016

art is long, life is short

but now for me

art is life, life is sport

and now: jimin's got jet black hair.

it doesn't surprise Yoongi much honestly. his hair was already pretty dark from the brown that it used to be. but now it's jet black, that's a new kind of black that he's got on. most of the trainees among them don't even blink an eye at the change, but Yoongi notices. of course he would notice.

"you changed your hair." is the only thing that Yoongi manages to get out of his mouth after staring at Jimin in the mirror for five minutes straight. fuck it.

Jimin head tilts up from his phone, brow raised and eyes wide and looking so goddamn beautiful that gets Yoongi fucking breathless even though he's literally doing nothing. his hideous basketball shorts, oversized hoodie and shirt that hangs too low for yoongi's liking takes nothing away from how awe-struck Yoongi is about park. fucking. Jimin.

Jimin hums. Yoongi takes that as a valid response.

"do you like it?" Jimin asks him after a period of silence.

Yoongi nods. "very."

yoongi's back on his phone before he can see the fond smile that comes onto jimin's face, smiling from ear to ear, small dimples appearing softly.

—

some night you dance with

tears in your eyes

for some fucking reason, BigHit's training them to debut a kpop group.

where the fuck did let's debut a hiphop duo go?

why was Yoongi never informed of this?

well, now he knows why the fuck they started dancing to remixes of panda. he's been listening to it too much to the point it sounds fucking shitty as fuck to him.

anger seethes through his gritted teeth. it's not that obvious, but he feels like there's a red aura bursting into flames around him. his head hurts. fuck. he's lying on the floor, the hard, cold wooden floors that scream home to him now. this is where he's spending his life. it's only been a few months now but he hasn't produced anything and now his fans are wondering just what happened to SUGA. what happened to him?

he lolls his head to the left, and he sees Jimin. yoongi's breath catches in his throat. jimin's pretty nose and pretty lips are in view, and yoongi's heart is beating too fast to even be legal. he's sweating and his pupils are dilated and fuck—he's going crazy. he brings a hand to his chest as an attempt to calm his heart, but it doesn't work. it never works.

jimin's head turns to meet him, their eyes locking immediately. his cheeks are pink and he looks so fucking cute, pouty lips in the form a smile, pearly whites sparkling. Jimin's eyes crinkle as he giggles in yoongi's direction, his face probably dumbstruck, looking flustered. Jimin reaches out for yoongi's face, small, chubby fingers grazing gently over his lips.

it makes time stop.

jimin's still smiling, and then he scoots closer, their faces only a few inches apart. his hand moves to yoongi's cheek, cupping it softly, like he's going to break Yoongi if he touches him wrong. Yoongi realizes he isn't breathing. he also realizes his heart is beating so fast and that his cheeks are pink like roses in full bloom. Yoongi opens his mouth to say something, but jimin's finger quickly moves to yoongi's lips again, shushing him. it makes him giggle a little bit.

Jimin moves even closer, kissing Yoongi once again. Yoongi doesn't want to be cliché, but literal fucking flowers are blooming in his stomach and butterflies are swirling around in it. Jimin sweeps him off his feet anytime, wether they're just holding hands or he's doing something so intimate like kissing Yoongi. it's so soft. it's so delicate—and Yoongi never wants to stop. that's what he feels on the inside. he doesn't know why he acts the opposite.

time begins to move forward.

—

yoongi's eyes snap open.

his vision is blurry, there's a sharp sting in his head and it's terribly painful, Yoongi can't even handle it. his legs barely have any energy in them, wobbly and causing him to tumble over at times. he hears the loud screeching of tires rubbing against the pavement, and it further worsens his headache. his lungs feel like they're filled to the brim and he can't breathe at all.

thankfully he finds a wall to level himself on, palm slamming on the concrete. he doesn't know why the fuck he's here but all he wants to do right now is go home to his nice, warm bed and go the fuck to sleep because he hasn't had any in weeks.

he's tired.

his legs hurt.

he's hurt.

Yoongi just wants to go home.

before he knows it, he's walking onto the crosswalk. a car swerves around him, making him jump back before the car honks at him. Yoongi stares at its back, completely stupefied and at a loss of words. he could've died, but really he couldn't care less right now. his mind isn't in the right place and a cup of hot tea would be nice.

when warm hands grasps at his waist, he turns around expecting only one person.

"Yoongi,"

it's the same voice as the person he was thinking about.

"Yoongi, let's go home, okay?" he says, pausing for a moment. "let's go home."

Yoongi can't speak. his mouth is dry and he realizes he smells like six shots of straight vodka. all he does is nod.

the man embraces Yoongi with warm, open arms, and Yoongi seems to fall into them instantly.

i wish i could love. . .

i wish i could love.

—

more info on what happened to Yoongi will be next chapter ^_^ hope you enjoyed!