eighteen | yoonmin

fifteen.

—

blurry, stuck in a haze

roses tear at my neck,
thorns grow by the next

don't wanna be cliche
just tryna  get it out
but the way my breath stops midway

whenever my eyes are laid upon you
I can't help but think that
you're the only one who is true

even so,

I lose . . .
whenever I see you

the first thing Yoongi writes in his head in a while now. it's not really something he'd rap, but it's more like poetry that's been scattered around in his mind until now. the pieces have came together and he's got this. it's not much, but it's a start.

it's a start.

the ringing his mind had brought him is soon gone, and now it's as if the calm, soothing sound of the ocean's waves crashing against each other has replaced it. the smell of a faint candle in the midst approaches him. it isn't obnoxious, nor is it overwhelming. like the warm wind that brushes his face in summer, it's welcoming, and he seems to fall right into it.

Yoongi blinks. he's lying on a couch, weight suspended unevenly. palming around him quietly, he finds his hand gripping a solid thigh, the rough texture of denim. although rugged, it's soft.

"are you awake now?" a creamy voice asks him. Yoongi turns his head in the direction of the sound, his vision is still quite blurry, the only thing he can see are blurred colors that he finds hard to comprehend at the moment. he feels a hand lay on his forehead, and usually Yoongi would be against anyone touching him, but he likes it when this person touches him. it feels like home. it feels like he's finally in the center of his own universe. it's blissful.

Yoongi groans in response, blinks a few more times before his vision clears.

"it seems as though you got way too drunk," he says in a soothing tone, "and i don't know how i found you—or why i found you—but something compelled me to go where you are, and there you were, stumbling around, almost getting hit by a car, and oh my god—hyung. i saw you almost getting killed." his hand runs down yoongi's body, gently tracing his hipbones, then finally staying at his hands, the man's fingers easily weaving through yoongi's.

it's warm.

"maybe because i just think about you too much. i think that's why i was brought to you. were you thinking of me too, hyung?" he pauses for a moment. "i didn't know before, but i kept being drawn closer to you because even the me a few months ago was thinking about you unconsciously. even so, i shouldn't have stayed if someone else was trying to keep me. i think you were thinking about me too, unintentionally."

yoongi's mouth opens to say something, but he doesn't make a sound. "i'm talking nonsense." the man chuckles, smile shy, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

you're not.

i think you're asking if . . .

"are you awake, Yoongi hyung?"

a sound finally comes out of his mouth. he's regained his control over his body. his soul has returned. "yeah," Yoongi barely murmurs, voice dry and cracked and utterly wrecked. Yoongi sits up, hand rubbing at his cheek, eyes red and sore. the man has a hand placed on yoongi's back to anchor him up, to level himself.

"that's good that you're awake now," he smiles, hand still intertwined with yoongi's. Yoongi stares at their hands for a while, then looks up to stare at him. jet black hair. creamy skin. small moles on his forehead and collarbone. one puffy eye. pouty pink lips and pretty chubby cheeks, even prettier nose.