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Yoongi remembered that day clearly, a little too vividly for his own good. He recalled exactly the moment when he realised it and when it all came down crashing onto him.
It was a chilly night, he was shivering in his thin coat, his fingers splayed over the keyboard. He was stuck at one specific note, one without a flow from either the back or the front. It stood out like a sore thumb. Yoongi remembered his exact feelings at that time: frustration and helplessness.
Then, like a revelation, his smartphone rang, his melodic music always stopping him for a millisecond from answering right away. He looked at the screen, and he smiled so widely; he remembered the feelings at that time: cheered and hopeful.
He picked up, and Yuna said that she was coming over in a few minutes. His eyes widened. Right now? "But it's raining."
"So? I like it," she answered. Yoongi shook his head, small smile naturally plastered on his lips.
As promised, she knocked. Yoongi got up and opened the door. His eyes widened at her sight.
"I thought you would at least take an umbrella with you."
She pushed inside, water dripping from her hair and body. "I told you I liked rain, didn't I? What's this Yoongi? You were supposed to know." She said as she made her way to the computer.
Yoongi, however, wasn't listening. His eyes were trailing her drenched body, albiet unintentionally. Immediately, he looked away. "I—I think you should change your clothes first."
Yuna looked down at her clothes and then at him. "Nah, I don't think so. I feel cool. I like it this way."
"You'll catch a cold, Yuna." He remembered his feelings: unsure and hesitant, but for what?
"To hell with it. Come here, I have to show you something."
"W-What?" Yoongi hated the fact that he was stuttering.
"Come here! I came here to show you something." She was excited.
Reluctantly, Yoongi walked over to her, stood by the chair as she sat in it, soaking it wet. He remembered how exactly she smelled. Of chrysanthemums and tulips with freshwater. It was rare, but so was Yuna.
She was rambling and rambling, talking about how she made something from her heart, no adulteration of ideas or feelings. Just herself. Yoongi could relate with her.
"Look what I've made," she said, typing something more. "More like, listen to it."
She pressed the play button with a thud, fiddling with her fingers nervously. Soon after, the music started rolling.
Yoongi was dumbstruck. It was nothing like he had ever heard before. It is... beautiful.
It was something entirely new, yet it felt like home. It was as if his ears were designed to hear it, his auditory senses absorbing everything like he'd heard it thousands of time before. The music seemed to fit into his being. He loved it.
He glanced at Yuna, who was looking back at him expectantly. Yoongi couldn't say anything. He only smiled at her, and she relaxed visibly.
Every emotion was brimming inside him, and he felt overwhelmed.
He stared at her, unable to look away. With the music still playing, Yuna sitting so close to him and smiling, and with it pouring outside, he knew what he felt at that time. He remembered exactly what his heart said right then and there.
