Twenty six days passed in which I didn't had any contact to Yoongi, what's actually not a big deal, regarding our conversations all the 10 years before.
But it felt weird.
Everything started to become just strange.
Laughing at lame jokes, playing my role or just being the grey me was weird. To sit with those people who I treated like my friends was diffrent and felt like I've never done it before.
I felt uncomfortable and not welcome, even though they gave me smiles back or continued to tease me.
Living became more difficult and the pressure became bigger and heavier.
I can't carry this on my shoulders anymore.
But I had to.
How else should I live my life happily, without any fame, fourtne and friends?
Wasn't this what life was about?
To be known by many, so you would be remembered after your death?
To become popular so you can earn a lot of money?
This would make me happy after awhile, wouldn't it?
I just need to stay strong and go a bit further.
It would be fine soon.
But I stumbled upon the colours, Yoongi left and didn't stand up right away.
I laid in a puddle and let the colours slowly paint me.
I became silent.
And with everyday which passed I could feel their attention they paid to me dissapearing.
There wasn't a seat for me at lunch.
They were ignoring me.
I was diffrent now.
I was myself.
Everyone treated me like air.
I was air.
He was air.
We were invisible.
It seemed like I finally managed to enter his world, cause for some reason he started to notice me again after twenty six days.
More than he ever did the 3154 days before.
_
A/N: Those days should be nine years? idk
