♡ Keys ♡ → myg | pjm

♡Eight♡

HEY HEY If you're thinking 'I've already read this??' then pls read again! the first 500 words or so are the same BUT Wattpad fucked me over and deleted the rest of it last time (and i'm dumb and didn't notice until TODAY) but I re-wrote the rest, so there's new shit here ! 

The next morning Yoongi was up early, pacing around Seokjin's house with a pen and pad of paper in hand. He hummed to himself as he wandered aimlessly, pausing every few seconds to scribble a note or two onto the paper. The paper was riddled in scribbled out notes and sloppy piano scores he was composing in his head on the spot, something he did regularly when inspired enough.

Little did he know, Seokjin had been watching. Lurking in the doorway that connected the kitchen and the living room was the broad-shouldered man, wearing his pajama pants and a grey tee shirt. Usually Seokjin was awake first to make breakfast and get some things done to free up his day, but apparently that wasn't the case today.

It was 8:14 am currently, a time that Yoongi would usually refer to as an 'unGodly hour to be awake.' That was usually because Yoongi was the type to stay awake late, and sleep in late. Seokjin was the opposite.

So seeing the blonde man pacing around the small house in sweatpants, tee shirt, cardigan and glasses before noon was definitely a new sight to Seokjin.

"Dah... dah, dah.. No, that has to be a sharp, not a flat." Yoongi muttered to himself in between his little vocalization of piano notes before scribbling something onto the pocket-sized notebook paper in his hands.

Seokjin tilted his head, having half a mind to record the sight before him. Yoongi was not only awake and moving... but he was alert and thinking? Before afternoon? Was this even Yoongi?

"Wow." Seokjin dramatically gasped. "The Min Yoongi composing one of his masterpieces in my living room? To what do I owe this honor?"

Yoongi startled, almost tripping backwards over the coffee table. "Fuck, Jin!" He glared. "What the hell? How long have you been there?"

"I haven't seen you this inspired in a long time." Seokjin ignored Yoongi's irritated question and annoyed glare. He strolled into the room and looked at the notepad. "How do you even read this chicken scratch?"

Yoongi quickly closed the notepad and pocketed it, glare hardening. "Problem?"

"Yeah. Who are you and what did you do with that grumpy old man in my guest room?" Seokjin eyed him.

With an roll of the eyes, Yoongi walked over to the small piano that was placed in the corner of the room. It was nothing compared to the one Yoongi had back home, but it would do for some basic work.

"Ha ha, very funny." He grumbled as he positioned his fingers over the cold glossy keys, after getting the small pieces of notebook paper torn out of the notepad and placed up on the sheet stand.

Seokjin didn't respond, instead taking a seat on the couch. He stayed quiet as Yoongi began to play what he had just been working on. How Yoongi could play beautifully with just some sloppy scribbes? It was a true miracle, Seokjin thought.

He listened to the gentle music, closing his eyes. Truthfully, he could fall asleep to this.

Seokjin smiled to himself. The combination of notes and chords blended together magically, each key softly playing their part. It sounded like a song you'd fall in love to, a song you'd hear in a movie when the main character finally begins to realize there's hope.

Love, even.

"Beautiful." Seokjin hummed. Yoongi finished playing and gracefully retracted his hands from the piano, turning his body to see Seokjin gazing at him with a proud expression.