PICTURESQUE. | MYG

x

Yoongi didn't know what he expected would happen when he properly set his eyes on his daughter for the first time. He had seen the smallest glimpse of long raven hair on a tiny body the day that everything he thought he knew changed at the photography studio, but not her face. The car ride to Soomi's daycare had been silent, and Yoongi was okay with that, considering that the less words shared between him and you, the better. He feels foreign and out of place once you each step out of the car, into the parking lot among the other waiting parents. Parents. He is a parent. It is still so surreal to him that he is technically responsible for another little human being, that someone shares an extension of his blood.

The reality smacks him across the face when he sees Soomi for the first time as she exits the daycare center and searches the crowd of parents for her own. He feels the oxygen being stolen from of his lungs as his eyes prickle with the beginnings of tears, feels his hands clam up and his throat go unbearably dry and tight. She looks just like him. It feels oddly similarly to looking in the mirror when he looks at her, seeing his own eyes looking back at him, the bone structure of his own face. She's wearing a blue dress, with a matching blue bow tied to the end of her long black braid that bounces on her Dora backpack as she runs towards him.

Well, towards her mother. Towards you. To her, he is a stranger, a background character in her life story, in the chapter in which her mother picks her up from daycare. "Mommy!" She squeals as she hugs your legs. Her voice. Yoongi would do anything to keep that voice safe. He wants to reassure himself that he'd know she is his just by the sound of her voice or the shape and color of her eyes without being told. That if he had somehow managed to see her face or hear her voice before coming back into contact with you, he would have known instantly that she belonged to him. But he knows he'd just be lying to himself, and that makes him sick to his stomach.

"Hi, honey." She murmurs, and Yoongi can feel your eyes on him, but he refuses to look away from Soomi. He knows that looking at you will only send him into an uncontrollable rage, a fire fueled by the ever present fact that the beautiful little girl in front of him is his and he missed her entire life. He missed her birth and her first words and her first steps. He missed every second time, third time, fourth time. And to make it worse, it was involuntary. He unwillingly missed all of these milestones, all because of you.

He should look at you and lose all sense of inhibition and go off on you, raise his voice the second Soomi isn't present, throw the fit he knows he deserves to have, unleash the anger and hatred for you that he has harbored because he knows you deserve to receive it. But he doesn't. He bites his tongue and clamps his mouth shut and looks at his daughter, who just so happens to glance up and see him. Her little eyes that look just like his survey him, give his lithe body clad in black, complete with a mask over his lower face, a once over. He feels his knees go weak, and so he allows himself to crouch down to her eye level. His trembling hand pulls his mask down underneath his chin.

"Soomi, this is Yoongi." You say, and his heart's million little pieces break again. "He's a friend of mine." He's not her father, at least, not to her. And the nerve you have to introduce him as your friend—he could snap right this instant. But instead, he holds out his hand to shake Soomi's, struggling to keep the quaking muscles and tendons still. Soomi flinches and clings tighter to your leg, making the tears in Yoongi's eyes gather on his waterline. He scares her. He's a stranger, of course he scares her. Despite his effort to calm his shaking hand, it doesn't go unnoticed.

"Why are you shaking? Are you cold?" Soomi asks quietly, and Yoongi swallows down the lump in his throat, but his voice still comes out thickly.

"Uh, yeah." He glances up at you nervously.

"Why? It's hot out." Soomi questions. A breathless, humorless laugh escapes Yoongi's lips.

"I, um—I have bad circulation, I guess." He lies, having no idea how to speak to her. He was never good with kids, but the current circumstances made it even more impossible. You have never seen him, someone who thrives on sarcasm and wit, a lyricist, so at a loss for words.

"What's circulation?" Soomi interrogates him further, and a smile grows on his lips. She's curious, full of questions, craving answers. He loves her already, more than anyone or anything.

"How about we go get some ice cream, and I'll tell you all about it." He says, finding his words, and holds out his hand once more. Soomi eyes his hand skeptically, and it's the longest four seconds of Yoongi's life as Soomi looks to you for permission. You nod, and when he glances at you, he sees you're crying to.

The rigid, tightly woven ball of hatred in his stomach loosens. His gaze softens for you. Why, he doesn't know. But then a small hand is intertwined with his, sending a visible shudder through him. He tries his best to grip her hand tightly, but not too tightly as he feels her for the first time. Feeling her tiny hand in his makes everything even more real. "You've got a nice handshake. Very strong." He says, and she blushes, a timid smile on her lips.

Now. He knows he can ask her now, all those things he wants to know.

"So, what's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"

hi this is not good but i wanted to put something out for you guysss