The Street Child (Min Yoongi)

Chapter 2: The Thunderstorm

"A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal"
. . .

The incident with the boy had had such a severe impact on me, that I made it my duty to leave him food. He would always be lost in his dreams, and I would slip in quietly and leave something to eat. All the while, I thought he was oblivious of my arrival, but what I didn't know was that he was awake every time.

After a strenuous day at school, I inhaled deeply as I stepped foot inside the vast room of my hostel. I hung my school bag on the door nail and fished out my phone from my pocket and dialed my friend's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mark. It's me, Yuna."

"Oh, hey! What's up?"

"What's up? Have you forgotten that you were supposed to be at my house after school?" I asked incredulously.

A gasp came from the other end.

"Shit! I'm so sorry! I totally forgot. I'll be there in a minute, Yoons."

The line went dead, making me sigh heavily on the fact that he had forgotten again that he had to come over at my house. Five minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Well that was fast.

I opened the door to let him in, only to be tackled into a bone-crushing hug. He squeezed me to the point where I couldn't breath.

"Let...go...can't...breath," I gasped out. He immediately released me.

"Oh, sorry," he smiled sheepishly at me.

I tried to glare at him to show him how furious I was, but he was so fricking adorable, I just couldn't be mad at him for more than 5 minutes. I gave in.

"You're not mad at me?" He asked, shocked.

"No, you know it's impossible for me to stay mad at you for long."

"YAY," he cheered adorably.

Soft locks of blonde fell over his dark eyes, his button nose led way to sharp canines peeking out from his thin lips which were nearly always curled up in a playful grin that reflected his goofy nature which I grew to love.

I pinched his cheeks in affection. He and I had been friends since we were in diapers and I absolutely adored him.

"So... what are we gonna do today?" Mark asked enthusiastically, clapping his hands.

"We're going to have a movie marathon."

"Which movies?"

Mark instantly guessed the answer through the smirk I threw at him.

"Harry Potter."

His shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"Again?" He asked wearily.

"Yes, again."

I swear I don't understand people who don't like Harry potter. I mean, like seriously? Going to Hogwarts has been every child's dream. How can you hate that awesome school and Harry's adventures? I rolled my eyes at him.

"My only wish before I die is seeing you as a potterhead," I told him.

He laughed. "Yeah that's probably never gonna happen."

"Any who...let's get started," I said.

I put the first DVD in the Player and squashed myself between Mark's legs on the bed, where he was all ready with the popcorn I had made, in his hand. His other hand went around my waist as I made myself comfortable. I laid my head back on his chest; he was so warm. I loved snuggling with him.

I regretted the decision.

I couldn't hear the characters because of his loud chewing and slurping.

After about 7 hours of fast forwarding because of Mark's constant whining, we were on the last movie, and I was bawling my eyes out at Snape's death scene.

"You have your mother's eyes, Harry."

I sobbed even harder in Mark's chest while he was stroking my hair and muttering that it was not real, just a movie. I sniffled and looked back at the screen just in time to see Harry collecting Snape's tears in a flask.

I let out a howl, causing Mark to sigh again.

"We've seen this movie a billion times, yet you cry at this scene every single time. Why?" Mark huffed.

"Mark, you'll never understand." I hiccuped, shaking my head at him. "At least don't ruin this scene for me!" I glared.

Suddenly, I heard thunder roar outside, followed by a heavy plinkering of raindrops on the roof. Now that was weird.

"Where did that come from?" I mumbled to myself.

Mark shrugged. I walked towards the windows to close them, when I got a whiff of piercing wind that sent a shiver down my spine. The hair at the back of my neck stood up erect.

"Sheesh, it's freezing out there."

Mark frowned. "Well it's the starting of November, so the air is going to get really cold."

As soon as he said that, a picture appeared in my mind of Yoongi sleeping on the numbing floor, his feeble body twitching with the icy wind, his pale skin as white as paper with all the colour drained out, the cold hitting him straight in the bones.

I gasped and turned to Mark.

"Mark, come with me."

I didn't give him a chance to ask any questions as I dragged him out and straight to the alley where Yoongi resided. When we reached there, we found him trembling in the worst manner we had ever seen. It seemed like he was having a seizure. I yelled at Mark to pick him up while I covered him with my coat. Mark picked him up like he weighed a feather and scurried towards my hostel. As soon as I opened the door, he placed Yoongi on the extra bed I had since I didn't have a roommate. I went to my closet and took a couple of sheets and covered him with it. I bit down hard on my lip as I saw his teeth chattering.

I looked up to see Mark staring at me with a quizzical look. I nodded and accompanied him to the door.

"I'll tell you everything at school tomorrow, promise." I assured him.

Mark nodded and wrapped his lanky arms around me.

"If that hobo does anything to you, you better tell me right away so that I can karate chop his lungs."

I laughed at that. "Karate chop his lungs? Seriously, Mark?"

He shrugged, grinning. I kissed him on the cheek, and gave him another hug.

"Don't worry, he won't do anything to me."

He nodded and left, pulling the hood of his raincoat over his head. I saw his retreating figure and went inside, only to be met with a quivering boy.