I See Stars In Your Eyes (Min Yoongi X Park Jimin)

I See Stars In Your Eyes

11:37 PM

Min Yoongi watches as the snow lathers the world in white.

The crystal droplets cascade from the skies, pattering the sidewalks and every other available surface, chunks of scattered ice crunching beneath the hurried feet of people headed to their respective destinations on a cold, wintry night. Resting his forearms on the table, Yoongi refocuses his gaze on the bright screen of his laptop, a half finished document glaring at him, daring him to complete the report he was supposed to have turned in this morning.

Last chance, Yoongi, his boss had chastised, if you don't turn it in tomorrow, consider your bonus rescinded, along with your vacation days.

That had been sufficient motivation.

Working for a music production company is not easy, but Yoongi will take what he can get. Harbouring dreams of composing his own pieces someday, he doesn't mind the menial work he has been burdened with for now, even though it is painfully tedious. He thinks it will all be worth it when he can finally produce a record label with his own name printed on it. At least, he hopes so.

But tonight, Yoongi cannot bring himself to concentrate on his work. The same old routine every day has induced an existential crisis of sorts; exhausted mornings, the pressure to perform well, the desire to make something of himself, all of this does nothing but exacerbate the sense of futility which seems to clog every pore of his being. So far, Yoongi seems to be getting nowhere, and he cannot help but wish things could be different. If the repetitiveness of his mundane life couldn't somehow be replaced with something more vivacious. Something more worthwhile.

Even if it's just for one fucking night.

Leaning back into the plush seat of his booth, Yoongi runs his eyes around the toasty interior of the modest 24/7 diner he has ensconced himself in. Despite the late hour, most booths are occupied, some by couples, some by friends, and some by travelling families. The crowd is probably the result of a Saturday night, that reposeful midpoint in the weekend where one can retreat into a world of bliss and reprieves before tackling the week to come.

Sighing, Yoongi drags his eyes back to the screen, his fingers curling around the mug containing the tepid coffee which has long since grown cold. He considers asking for a refill, but decides it is too much of an effort and he is already too tired. The fact that he seems to be seated directly behind a couple of what he assumes are bickering friends, their voices rising and falling depending on the turn of their conversation, does not help at all. He has half a mind to reprimand them when, with a start, he realizes that he is probably the only person lacking a companion in the diner. But it doesn't matter. If there is one thing Min Yoongi is awfully familiar and at peace with, it is solitude.

Just then, the bell dings, signalling the arrival of a new customer. Yoongi finds this unusual; most people would be in the process of leaving the diner at this hour in the night. And for the life of him, he cannot fathom why someone would want to extricate themselves from the comfort of their home or whatever other safe dwelling when warnings of a potential blizzard have been plastered all over the news. But I'm here, too, so who gives a damn? But what he doesn't acknowledge is the fact that he is here because the emptiness of his apartment feels particularly intimidating tonight, feels hollower than usual.

Shaking his head, Yoongi flexes his wrists and dives into his report with a newfound vigour. All he wants is to finish writing it and go home to the warmth of his bed regardless. Preferably before anything even remotely akin to a blizzard hits the city.

Moments pass, and it isn't long before he feels a presence hovering over him. Looking up from his laptop, he blinks in surprise as the new arrival slides into the seat across from his. His hair is jet black, tousled by the wind and swept back in an attractive style. Clad in a peach overcoat and a beige turtle-neck sweater, the man settles against the leather comfortably, a small smile playing on his full lips. Yoongi continues staring and the intruder mimics him, his brown eyes crinkling as his smile widens. That is when Yoongi's heart clenches in his chest. He has never, ever, been smiled at like that by anyone before.