You, as a person, Yoongi,
are somewhat lazy, a bit of a grump, and slightly hard to get to know.
But, I believe, when the wall is broken, that you are a man of honor, full of passion so fierce that it'll burn brightly for the longest while.
And I get to call you mine.
Finally.
You, Yoongi, are my best friend.
You are my lover.
And have become a huge part of my life.
What if I had never spoken to you in middle school to wake you up during our maths lesson to hand you notes?
You could have slept away and majorly failed that stupid pop quiz that our probably sadistic teacher had given.
You would have failed it anyway, but you got a better grade than what you normally would have.
You're welcome by the way.
Your pale skin and small frame, your thoughts and beliefs, no matter if they differed from mine,
I would protect them.
I will protect them.
They're mine.
You're mine.
I'm yours.
I asked what you thought of me.
You said I was your plum.
A poor thing overlooked by apples and other fruits.
But your favorite.
Well, you're my peach, Min Yoongi.
Because no matter how you try hard to seem tough, you're soft and sweet.
YOU ARE READING
PLUM
Short StoryMuch like the first time biting into a plum, the skin bitter, the inside sweeter. That was what my first kiss with a guy was like; it was like a plum.
