Staegma ✧ taejin

24

To Seokjin, Yoongi's smirk looked more like a pouting duck.

"Stop smirking. You're not cool, Yoongi."

Yoongi frowned. "Whatever. As a rapper, you know, if I theoretically become famous and do a face reveal, I have to show cool stages, completed with cool facial expressions. Of course, with cool songs."

"So you wrote about murder?"

"No, it's just a metaphor. But I won't tell you what's it about." Yoongi gave a dismissive wave. "Anyway, we're here to talk about you and your petty emotions."

"Petty emotions. . ?"

"And just to be clear, I did not murder anyone."

"You don't seem like the type."

"Yeah, thank you!" Yoongi grinned. "So, anyway, back to our original topic. What are your thoughts about this whole thing that is need of organizing?"

Seokjin sighed. "Look, I know I should be mature enough to handle this. Given that, I'm in my twenties and all, and I'm supposed to be old enough to handle this. But I need some time. I don't even know if this universe thing exists. I did hear Taehyung, but I don't know if he is real. He is. . . maybe. Evidently. But the idea of this universe thing. . . it's just. . . crazy. I don't know where to believe in. I don't know if I could face him. Or talk to him. I'm scared, Yoongi. I'm scared of seeing something I'm not even sure of. And I feel bad. I'm guilty for practically abusing him. There's no excuse on my part. It's not reasonable enough that I didn't know. Because, in the first place, I shouldn't have treated him that way."

Yoongi nodded.

"Because, you know, when I first played the game, he was welcoming. I don't know how he knew he was my boyfriend, or how he knew my name. And he was patient. Really. He's very patient. I threw a cockroach on him once when he was reading me an apology letter—"

"Let's stop there," Yoongi said calmly. "Did I hear you correctly?"

"Yes — and that's not all. I think I threw an electric fan at him. And stopped him from breathing. I also slapped him. Also, I said something about him being 'mortally wounded.' We only met up for just, I don't know, more than five times. I did a lot of immoral things. Things that no one ever deserved."

"Why did you do it, then?"

"I was amazed by the game so I decided to experiment by 'hurting' him."

"For goodness' sake."

Seokjin was slipping away from the cliff, nearly falling down the depths of desperation.

"But he doesn't deserve it. Taehyung is. . . he has a mind I couldn't comprehend. He acted like he didn't know about you, but he says you guys are friends. He acts like an ignorant child, but later on puts me in my place by telling me I'm 'socially blind.' I slapped him and he apologized because he can't make me happy. He wears business attires in archery. When I threw that cockroach at him, he cared more of taking care of his letter for me rather than himself."

He ran a hand to his arm, slightly shivering from the truth that was slipping out of his mouth in a continuous flow. It was a big punch in the stomach, and he could only widen his eyes at the things he's saying.

At the things he is sharing to an attentive musician.

"I imposed a slight dominance, which is not my intention. And this isn't about sex, let's put that out of the way — I just, I just find it ironic, how all this parasitism-based dominance never scared him. He has been gentle this whole time and I'm the one who's scared."

Yoongi hummed. "It is ironic, when you put it that way."

"I can't face him, not right now. He — he doesn't deserve to see me," they both ignored at how Seokjin's voice broke, "no — I don't deserve to see him. He is a complex Jose Rizal book, and I am merely the gossip column with fake gossips."

"You think highly of him."

"Because he is."

"Do you know his voice?"

"It's deep," Seokjin said. "It doesn't suit his looks, but it's quite intimidating."

"Maybe you're just imagining things, hyung."

"What?"

"Maybe — you're just — imagining — things. Maybe he isn't really here, and you're in need of sleep. It's 4 in the morning, you're never too late."

Seokjin lied down on Yoongi's bed. "I know I'm not. I can feel it. He's here. And I can't do anything about it."

"Are you going to hide for whom? For him or for you?"

"For the both of us."

Yoongi laughed humorlessly. "Do you think he deserves to be ran away from? After all his efforts? What he did was better, in the moral aspect, compressed in a few meetings. But you? What can you do to pay them back? Stop lying to yourself, hyung. He doesn't deserve to be ditched."

He doesn't deserve to be ditched.

Yoongi continued, ". . .And you're not even in a romantic relationship. You're acting like you're in some sort of a quarrel or cheating accusation. Virtually, you are. But you're not, literally. I get that you're scared, but if he faced his fears to save his letter for you, why don't you do the same and look for him? Don't you miss him? And your platonic bonds?"

Platonic bond, Seokjin repeated in his head, feeling a slight discomfort. He wasn't one for sentiments, but here he was now.

If Seokjin had guilt as his guest, there was another one that arrived. Another emotion, one that made Seokjin nervous, one that made Seokjin think back to all the times he had been with complex boy, to everything. It was an emotion akin to getting a high grade on an exam. It was blissful but intimidating.

He doesn't know what it was — he only knew it from stories, like the one Yoongi had told him about this girl who broke it off with her boyfriend to be with Yoongi, since they were both politically concerned and practically in the 'same standard' as people, like soulmates, but it didn't work out because they had different ideologies. Yoongi kept his emotions out of the story — it was only a narration.

And it was as if he was looking at the Earth from outside Yoongi's window, seeing an artistic boy sit on it, while watching the other planets rotate with interest.

Seokjin could feel nothing but fear rushing into him again, only this time, for a different reason.

This couldn't be real. Right?