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Summary : Regrets only come in the end.
𝕯 𝖊 𝖈 𝖊 𝖕 𝖙 𝖎 𝖔 𝖓
〖Music | BGM : House of Cards or Spring Day / Instrumental | BTS | Play on Loop〗
"What?"
You must've heard wrong.
Shaking your head lightly, you press the telephone a bit harder to ear. Still unable to comprehend what your mother had just uttered out to you.
"We're having dinner later with his parents at the restaurant near the company building,"
Ah. You have a bad feeling about this.
"You two should come! We haven't heard from either of you ever since the wedding."
Your heart began pounding.
No. Nononon—
"It will be a pleasure, Mrs. [L/N]." your husband's cool, monotonous voice rang through the speaker.
And you had just forgotten that the telephone on the main office -yours and his which is in another building- is linked.
He must've picked it up as well.
"Oh, he's with you, dear? That's great!" your mother chuckles. You can just feel your heart dropping.
Why the hell would he agree on that?
No offence to both parents.
"Seven in the evening, sharp." she laughs before ending the call, there was silence through the speaker.
Gulping, you sigh out.
"Aish, why did you even.."
A mere hum came from the other side.
"You've heard your mother right? Seven. I'll pick you up later."then he ended the call.
That's it.
Just like that.
The tension is still present in your office, hand still clasped around the telephone with nothing but the monotone sound blasting through the end.
Slamming it down, you tangle your locks in between your fingers. Sighing in a defeated manner as you slump over the desk.
Yoongi.
What the hell is he planning?
You were already panicking even by just standing in front of the mirror.
You have to look best in front of both parents, so you had fashioned yourself in a black formal dress that gave off a light, little touch of sexiness. Slightly hugging your hips and flowing freely to your mid thigh.
Not too much, you don't want attention.
Your [c] locks flowed down neatly in soft, gentle curls and you had matching heels/flats.
Looking at your watch, it read quarter to seven. Then came a knock on the door.
Jumping, you snatch your purse on the table and opened the door to reveal Yoongi, dressed perfectly well with the same colour of black. His hair lightly slicked to the side.
Coughing in his fist, he extends his arm for you to take, which you gladly accepted.
Walking out of the house, you hear him chuckle lowly.
YOU ARE READING
BTS Angst - Sinfully Tragic -
Fanfiction· Attach onto solemn fantasies , let your sadness out · A collection of angst oneshots/fics about BTS. "𝔚𝔢 𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔰, 𝔴𝔢 𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔡𝔶." ㅡ 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔜𝔬𝔲, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡, 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖄𝖔𝖚, 𝕴 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉. 🇹�...
