drink :: bts.

cinema | yoonmin

click.

whirrrrrr...

15 minutes before.
we were sitting next to each other. coffee wisps out of the mug to heat my face.
you move, and-- no, we were sitting across from each other. i crack a smile.

"is this to help me see you better?" you snort, looking down to sip out of your mug.

a skin coloured screen.
you know what i mean.
looking closely
your eyes are brown.

it's like the cinema, being with you.
it's like watching a movie,
i keep doubting my eyes.

pink hair falls over crescent-moon eyes. peach cheeks puffed in concentration as you make a man out of snow. you turn to see me, teeth chattering and complaining about the ice in my boots. a grin appears on your face, and i fall apart.

every single word you say,
i'm focusing on every line.

"taehyung was being absolutely insufferable today," you whine. we're supposed to be watching the superhero on the television, but the dialogue on screen is nothing compared the one you're giving me now.

i'm curious about your next story.

i tell you so, the morning after the movie, and you break into giggles. "well, i'm not an author for nothing. thank life for dropping my idiot friends onto me as inspiration."

you ride a grey car,
and i'm in the passenger's seat.

"wh-- yoongi!" you laugh, taking your eyes off the road for just a second. the polaroid clicks in my hands, and i smile down at the dark still-developing picture.
"i'm keeping this forever," i declare, shaking out the photo, and you shake your head.
"no no, we're literally coming back from the beach-- yoongi, i just woke up, my face is still puffy." you drag out the 'y' in 'puffy,' whining.
i smile at the half-clear picture. your hands are on the wheel, pink locks pushed back, sunglasses reflecting the sky's dying fire.

it's like a cinema,
being with you.

i climb into bed late, shivering when the cold sheets you haven't touched sink around me. you stir, and your eyes open.

it's like watching a movie,
i keep doubting my eyes.

"you have to stop working so late," you mumble, words round, hints of satoori creeping into your voice. "you've been in the studio all day."
"i know," i whisper, sighing as you roll closer to me, warmth spreading in my chest. burying my cold nose in your hair, breathing in the faint scent of peach shampoo.
i comb your hair with my hands gently, as you mumble out a "take care of yourself," before falling asleep again. long eyelashes sweeping pink cheeks. strawberry lips, the ghost of a smile.
"how can you be so perfect?" i whisper, before bringing my arm over you and closing my eyes.

every single word you say,
i'm focusing on every line.

"this one!" you say, pulling out a leather-bound book from a shelf.
"shh," i whisper. "we're in a library."
"sorry," you whisper back, but smile right after.
"another love story?" i ask, taking the book from your hands and flipping through.