sculptor ; yoonmin (SEE ACC BIO)

it's got to be you

"look, listen! how do you know if you won't listen!" the tone was frustrated and pleading.

normally, this would have yoongi smirking but he was tired and annoyed. it was something that he looked at in amusement at first but it slowly bordered upon weird, disturbing, and irritating.

"well, how can you even know for sure that it actually is me? how is one even aware of something that happened centuries ago? you're fucking mental!"

"yoongi... i'm telling you, it was in my dr-"

"dream. yes, i've heard it a million times already. how do you even know my name? who are you?"

for a moment, the guy looked taken aback. yoongi finally thought he had him and he was turning to leave when he saw the guy's bottom lip quiver.

fuck. fuck. fuck. how old is he? fucking five?

he may be a little rude and uncaring at times but it wasn't like he didn't actually, well, care. he considered himself a nice guy compared to other guys out there. like his friend, namjoon, who he was sure was not only rich but sadistic as he frequented a bdsm cam website where he constantly watched and donated money to someone called pink princess. people had to learn to use incognito mode or clear their history. or maybe he should just stop snooping. but namjoon made it hard not to snoop.

"hey, don't cry on me now..."

that didn't help. if anything, tears were now spilling silently.

"fuck," he muttered and grabbed the guy who wasn't much taller than him by the wrist and led him into the always empty library nearby. it had a few stragglers here and there but if they went to the history section occupied only by dust, they would be fine.

he let the stranger go and faced him. he was lightly blushing and yoongi inwardly sighed. he shouldn't have done that.

"i'm going to give you some of my time, so, explain. and no bullshit."

the stranger nodded and one hand gripped his wrist, the spot where yoongi had grabbed. the blush lingered as he took a deep breath.

"my name is park jimin. we are in the same college. same year. we take a music class together. and i have been dreaming about you fo-"

yoongi held his hand up to stop him. not even a minute and this jimin fellow was being weird. "are you gay?"

"n-no. not exactly, at least."

"jesus fucking christ. hey, kid-"

"we're the same age."

"alright. hey, dude. i'm straight."

jimin furrowed his brow and bit his bottom lip nervously. "well, so am i, but if you would let me explain..."

yoongi found himself sighing again and he threw his backpack down, sitting at an available worn leather chair that squeaked once he plopped himself down. jimin seated himself in a matching seat across from him and intertwined his fingers. the only reason yoongi was giving jimin the time of day was not only because he was about to cry but he got testy with him. not many people, besides namjoon and jungkook, another friend, did.

"as i was saying, i've been dreaming about you. and it's gotta be you. no..." he stopped talking and gathered his thoughts. yoongi watched on.

finally, he raised his head and his eyes met yoongi's. and he said:

"it's you. it's you. the one I sculpted detail into. the one from my past life. you were made by my hand to travel with me here. we were seperated; i have found you once more. it's got to be you."