It takes everything in him to not scream. He thrashes backward, his steps stuttering and he loses balance. He lands unceremoniously onto his bottom. There's a dull thud as his palms and heels hit the ground. From here, he can definitely tell the carpeting needs to be cleaned.
"What are you doing over there?"
He flips around and there she is, the old lady. Her hair is twisted up into a tight bun, apron coated in flour. He scrambles up and adjusts the shorts threatening to fall from his slight hips. She scowls with an accusing gaze. "Guests aren't allowed back there."
For good reason, he thinks, heart pounding away behind his breast bone. "Yes, okay. I understand."
She gestures him toward her, "Come away from there, boy." Her hand shakes, Yoongi noticed.
He nearly takes off to his room, but her chilling voice barks at him again. "Stay away from that boy, he's no good." He almost stops, but he figures he has no reason to and bolts to the stairwell.
***
He tosses and turns that night, memory taken over by what he'd seen. His mind is trying to reason it away but there's no where for it to go. He's certain that his eyes don't play tricks on him, not like that. The boy's words are ringing in his head, but he still can hear the lady.
Stay away, he's no good.
Yoongi would have never guessed. Someone like that kid seems bright, friendly. What about him made him 'no good'? He thought about the bruise, maybe that was a clue. What was he missing? There was something about this place that left a bad taste in his mouth.
He didn't notice the heaviness of his eyes, so caught up in his mind, and he yawned. The room blurred around him, shadows with long spindly limbs crept along his walls as the wind whipped the trees around outside. It is silent again, he hears his own breaths echo in the room. He feels eerily calm, the same as earlier. It makes his heart kick start and he blinks hard- once, twice- trying to focus his sight again. The wind is furious, raging outside his window, twisting around and knocking like the glass pane will shatter any second. He pinches his eyes shut and turns away from the wall. He plugs his ears with the spongy bud of his headphones.
He feels cowardly, unnecessarily frightened of nothing the entire day. He needs answers, he can't find his own in the moment.
Problem is, he knows no one in this town except for a boy he was told not to be around.
What was so wrong with him that an old lady spoke of him like a pest, a disease?
He'd have to find out tomorrow, his eyes fell shut to the slow, steady beat of music humming against his eardrums.
_____
unedited
my last day of sophomore year is tomorrow, wish me luck pls
