bloom → yk

two → agust d.

T W O → A G U S T D
—

he's grown a lot, that's for sure.

even though they're a year apart namjoon has filled in his body better than yoongi has. he barely recognizes him. namjoon's eyebrows are scrunched, almost in frustration as a stony gaze fills those usually warm brown eyes. he has his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants, his legs looking especially long in his school uniform. his shoulders are tense in his jacket, jaw clenched as namjoon looks like the epitome of anger and annoyance. even as namjoon's senior yoongi feels a bit intimidated. but it's gone just as quick as it comes.

yoongi sighs bitterly, knowing that the younger probably wants to threaten him to give up his spot as valedictorian, preferably by bombing the next test he has. yoongi has no problem doing so. his parents— his father, however, does and there is still some small part of yoongi that does want to live, even if it's meaningless.

really, he doesn't have time for this. and he's tempted to just ignore the younger but there's something in the way namjoon looks at yoongi; a mixture of aggravated curiosity and mild awe.
namjoon juts his chin to the side a little, a gesture to speak to yoongi outside. the elder nods his own head, following the taller outside in silence, the only sound being their shoes pressing against the floor.
they make it into the hall, yoongi pressing himself against the wall, staring at namjoon. it's ironic how yoongi can smell the pain; it's like a wave of melancholy washes over him before he even realizes.

it's impossible not go pick up the scent of disappointment, tears, school-related suicide, and depression that accompanies high school. yoongi knows these emotions well, has tasted the disappointment on his tongue every time he had to tell his parents he didn't get a perfect score but a 92 or, god forbid, an 89. yoongi has dealt with funerals organized to honor students in his class; he's touched the tears that stained his cheeks red as he finally came to terms with the fact that he will never be the master of his own life. he's seen it all. felt it all.

but he hasn't seen kim namjoon like this, the younger has a blank expression painted on his face as he stares back at the shorter. his figure is bathed in the sunlight that floods the open windows, illuminating the shape of his face, outlining his lips as they curve into a scowl.

a scowl?

yoongi hears shuffling, and the sound of a backpack being unzipped. he refuses to look and continues to stare at the namjoon with a seemingly bored expression.

"how the fuck do you do it?" namjoon's voice suddenly spits as he tosses something at yoongi's feet, papers rustling and fluttering all the while. yoongi stiffens, looking down for a brief moment to see the familiar white cover looking up at him from the ground, yoongi feels his heart sink but in a good way... if that even makes sense.

namjoon scoffs in annoyance, his tone is sharp, expression seemingly pained as he glowers at the item as yoongi scrambles to pick it up.

"how the fuck do you do it, yoongi?" he repeats and really, yoongi's not bothered by the lack of honorifics, if anything they make him uncomfortable.

it's confusing, being told his whole life that he's nothing special; that he'll never amount to anything; that he needs his father to help him get through life. with all that it's overwhelming to have someone use those honorifics as it just fucks with his already fucked up mind.

"you're good at everything!" namjoon continues, bringing yoongi out of his self-wallowing. "for fucks sake! even when we were kids and you didn't give a shit i knew you always cared! you're an asshole, you know that? god, i can't fucking stand you! i've heard you play the piano, i've seen the shit you've composed, i've seen your short stories used as an example of a perfect paper, i've seen you play basketball and take the team to nationals and win, i've seen how fast you can read, i've been second place to you my entire life and you don't even know it, do you? ... and now! now I've come to realize that not only are you a fucking athlete, not only are you an amazing pianist and a phenomenal composer, but you're a fucking genius, a brilliant writer, and now i guess you're also a songwriter that has the power to bring the whole world to their fucking knees!"