Yoongi and Jimin were best friends growing up. Almost inseparable. No matter what happened, they always stuck together. But, life happens and sometimes things change..
A story about life, forgiveness and true love.
a sad yoonmin fic
(the other mem...
-just to let y'all know, there's going to be a lot of time gaps because i don't want to drag out the story longer than i have too or bore anyone with pointless filler..-
*five years later*
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Yoongi was sitting at his desk in his room, studying for finals. The end of junior year was approaching and he wanted to make sure he passed with a perfect 4.0.
He was focused, music playing in the background on low volume, the lamp being the only source of light that lit up the room. It was peaceful.
A knock sounded from behind him on the glass of the window. He turns around and sees a fifteen year old Jimin looking through, with wide eyes as he gives Yoongi a little wave.
Yoongi huffs as he gets up. It's not that he didn't want Jimin to be there, it's just he wanted to study and well, Jimin didn't take school seriously.
He unlocks his window and pulls it up, Jimin coming through before he can even get it up all the way. He stumbles in but catches himself, sitting down on Yoongi's bed.
Yoongi closes his window and then looks at Jimin with a blank expression. "What are you doing here Jimin? It's 9:15 at night. We have school tomorrow."
Jimin laid back on Yoongi's bed as he smiles up at the older. "Oh come on Yoongi, don't be so lame. It's just high school."
Rolling his eyes, Yoongi walks back over to his desk and sits down. "Look, you don't have to like it, or even take it seriously, but could you at least respect that I do?"
Jimin sits up, his soft brown hair falling back into place perfectly across his forehead, his bangs still in the same part he had before. He nods as Yoongi turns around in his chair looking back at his book and notebook. "I don't mind if you're here but please let me study."
"Okay." Jimin mutters as he looks around the room. He's been in Yoongi's room many times before but he never really sat and looked at what the older had. Like the abstract painting he had hanging right above his tv. He always knew it was there, but he never really paid attention to how cool it was, or like the photos he had sitting around. Some of the two boys and some of him and his mother.
