Eight

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Yoongi shut the heavy slab of wood behind him, hand still cold from the freezing metal of Victoria's keys. He passed the small kitchen that opened to the living room where Jungkook was already knocked out on the couch.

With a sigh, the older sat down on the armchair and resisted the urge to reach out and pet Jungkook's head. So he settled for just watching him, head propped up on his hand. If they were still in high school, Yoongi would have no problem showing affection to his best friend.

But now that his muse in life was ripped away from him, he had no motivation for anything. He was afraid of the feelings it gave him. When Jungkook would reach out to him, he wanted to push him away. It took a considerable effort for Yoongi to not tell him or any of their other friends to fuck off and be serious.

It was the small part of him that didn't want to be alone that pushed him to keep them around.

Jungkook stirred a bit and groggily opened his eyes to look up at his hyung.

"Hey," Yoongi said.

The younger closed his eyes again. "Hi," he mumbled. Yoongi thought he was asleep again until he continued. "Hyung, I have a question."

"What's up?"

"You didn't protest much about Iseul joining our group, so what is it you don't like about Victoria noona?" Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows at the question. "Even Jin hyung likes her now so you can't use him as an excuse."

The thing was, Yoongi didn't dislike her. There was something about Victoria that reminded him of his younger self. She reminded him of himself before his mother died. And maybe that was why Jungkook got along with her so well. It made Yoongi a bit wary for reasons he couldn't conjure.

Evading the question, he only nodded at him. "You like her?"

"Yeah," Jungkook replied, voice thick with sleep. "In a few days, she's been more of a mom to me than my own."

Yoongi didn't want to press it even further, though he was curious what they had talked about. "And Iseul?"

The youngest smiled hazily. "Iseul." That was all he said before actually drifting off, where Yoongi was kicking himself. You know you can talk to hyung, too, right? was what he wanted to say, but he also didn't want to say anything, as it would only encourage further attachment.

He was stuck between wanting to protect Jungkook and wanting to keep his distance. With all the strife on his mind, Yoongi stood, careful not to wake him up, and grabbed a blanket from the hallway closet.

As gently as possible, he laid it over the boy and turned off the lamp that rested on the side table beside him. He dragged his feet on the way to his room and laid in bed for hours just staring at the ceiling. He swore at one point that it started raining, and sure enough, when he glanced out of the window by his bed, it was covered in streaks of sky water.

Yoongi turned on to his side, head propped up by his elbow. His dark eyes followed a drop of water that resembled a tear. It slid down the glass in a squiggly line before being lost on the sill. Eventually, the hammering of rain outside lulled him into a troubled sleep.

-

The morning came slowly, and it was eight o'clock before Jungkook woke to Yoongi writing something in a notebook on the chair next to him. The youngest sat up, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand. It was still raining outside, the sky painted in dark gray, but his eyes were fixated on Yoongi's hand writing in a rushed manner on the paper.

The last time Jungkook had seen him doing that was in high school when he was inspired to write a song for his piano. But with a closer look, he realized that Yoongi wasn't writing music notes, he was writing lyrics.

He was so immersed in it that he didn't even notice Jungkook waking up. "Hyung," he started. "Are you writing a song?"

"What?" Yoongi snapped his head up, startled at the sudden question. "Oh..." He stopped writing and closed the notebook. "You ready for some lamb skewers?"

Jungkook immediately straightened, completely forgetting about the lyrics he saw. "Am I!" he beamed. Yoongi was grateful that the food distracted him. He didn't want him to know that he was inspired to write for the first time in four years, and he certainly didn't want to give away who inspired him in the first place.



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LOL sorry it short 

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