° ᴛᴜɴɴᴇʟ ᴠɪsɪᴏɴ ° || ʏᴏᴏɴᴍɪɴ sʜᴏʀᴛ sᴛᴏʀʏ ✔️

°two°

It had become a regular thing for me to see by this point. Like a muscle memory, I would find myself awaiting the sight of her out of my peripheral vision as I wrapped up my conversation with Jungkook, who often stayed as late as I did simply for the sake of doing so. And, as one might expect when a muscle memory is intervened, something clicked in my mind, and my attention gradually began to float away from Jungkook and fix absentmindedly on Yoongi. At first, I figured it was nothing--that is, I assumed that perhaps Yoongi's friend had gotten herself caught up in other business and would merely be a few minutes late. But that turned out not to be the case. For minutes came, and minutes went. And she never showed.

It kept me on edge, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before my partial unease showed in my expression. In order to prevent Jungkook from sensing this, I insisted he head on home before me, and much to my relief my friend asked no further questions, nor did he seem suspicious. So I waited until all the others were gone. Until no one else remained in the classroom save Yoongi and me.

My heart was racing a mile a minute. It shouldn't have been, I told myself, internally spilling out nervous laughter. I liked to think of myself as quite the friendly individual. On most any occasion, I had absolutely no issue with approaching and speaking to a stranger, let alone a boy who was in the same age group and class as me. Nevertheless, I was a go-getter. There was simply no way that talking with him this one time could possibly alter my peaceable lifestyle.

"Yoongi? Is it alright if I call you Yoongi?"

His head had been resting comfortably in the small crook his folded arms had created, locks of his honey blonde hair falling over the edge of unbuttoned sleeves. Even though his eyelids were shielding my second chance at eye contact, something told me that he'd never been asleep. In fact, the boy's default expression actually made him appear sleep-deprived, and for some odd reason that made engaging in a conversation all the more challenging.

It took some time for him to even open his eyes, but eventually, Yoongi did look at me. And it caused my body to tense up momentarily.

"Pretty sure it was already established that's my name," was his slow, soft-spoken reply. He had a rather pleasant sounding voice, very low, yet light and silvery at the same time. It was the kind of voice you'd expect would come from a natural-born singer. I tried my best to smile at him.

"Well then, Yoongi, I know this is real sudden, and not to mention kinda strange and maybe even rude since we're already in our third week, but I just thought I'd introduce myself-"

"Why?"

His interruption took me aback, and for the length of what seemed like an eternity I couldn't find the right response to his simple yet puzzling question.

"Uh, well, I-I just..."

"Get to the point already. I know you're here to ask about the rumors."

"The what now?"

A prolonged sigh was drawn from his nostrils. "Forget it, I don't wanna hear your excuse for playing dumb. Just get to the point before Sungha gets here."

She must be that first-year. "Isn't it late, though?" I pointed out in as polite a tone as I could manage. Unfortunately my endeavor not to upset the boy ended in utter failure, and with each further comment I set forth, I only seemed to fall deeper into the crevice known as one's 'bad side'. "Maybe she went home today."

A scowl stretched across Yoongi's pale complexion, and with gritted teeth he spat at me a bitter, "That isn't right."

Initially, I'd thought he had a reason for this statement other than denial, for he expressed it in such a matter-of-fact way. But once again my incapability to keep my mouth shut ended up proving me wrong.