homeless ; yoonseok

three; stigma

as much as i wanted to say that the plushie helped me forget about hoseok, i couldn't just blatantly lie to myself. well i could, but i would just feel worse later on. i was so used to arms wrapped around my waist, with a relatively thick blanket, and fifteen old and used jackets, draped over my body, and the occasional "are you cold?" which resulted in more snuggling and my head against his chest. the memory alone made my heart ache, but i decided i craved sleep more than jung hoseok.

"min yoongi, if you are not going to provide for our family by chasing your stupid dream, wasting your time producing shitty music instead of focusing in school, not even the shittiest universities will accept you. get the fuck out of my house, and don't you dare think of coming back." she yelled, the tears spilling from her eyes not of  sadness but of frustration, giving both my shoulders a push. i couldn't bear to see her saddened face, knowing i had ripped my family apart and failed her. i grabbed all i could from my room and left before she could scream at me more. 
"why'd i have to leave in winter?" i asked myself, "it's cold as fuck i'm going to get hypothermia soon if i don't find a-" 
"sorry, i didn't mean to bump into you." an apologetic voice pulled me out of my thoughts. if i wasn't so hotheaded i would have forgiven him, but nope, "watch where you're going, dumbass." was the only thing i said. i could tell immediately that he didn't appreciate my tone. 
"look, i said i was sorry, so you don't have to be so rude about it."
"just run your ass back home, fucktard." and by now, i was getting very annoyed at this stranger.
"i got kicked out, and looking at your huge ass bag you did too. so let's find a place together."
"let's?"  but before i could question him, i was already being dragged away.

thank god i got mad at jung hoseok that day.