Pretty | Yoonmin (DISCONTINUED)

eleven

Jimin was struggling again.

"Gah, for the love of-Aish, why won't this stay folded! What the hell!"

He could hear every grunt, high pitched whine, and cute little cries that fell from his mouth from where he stood right outside the door, his feet shifting on the carpeted floor of the hall, lips pinched, and brows furrowed. He'd been down in his private library reading up until about one in the afternoon, and decided to take a nap in his bedroom when he'd realized that today was Saturday, and Jimin was taking the train back home to visit his friends. He struggled briefly to remember their names...

Taehyung, Hoseok, and of course Jungkook.

He twisted his bottom lip harshly between his teeth as he recalled the painfully terrible job Jimin had done last time, when he'd first unpacked. He'd been so completely clueless on how to proceed that Yoongi couldn't imagine how he'd come there in the first place with a suitcase full of clothes without some sort of serious malfunction. He was seemingly no better at packing up. Even if he only had to pick out two outfits this time around because he was only going for two days.

With a heaving sigh, he realized he wouldn't get anywhere by himself.

And then he'd never be able to take a nap.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, and reluctantly, he trudged down the hall to his bedroom, and grabbed his pillow from his bed. Tucking it against his chest and partially hiding behind the fluffy item, his cat like eyes peering out over the top, he waddled back towards Jimin's room, and caught a glimpse of his frustrated figure through the crack in the door, before slowly and hesitantly pushing it open. Jimin immediately looked up at the sound of the door creaking, and his gaze crossed over the piles of discarded clothes to find Yoongi entering with timid footsteps. His frown melted instantly, and his eyes crinkled at the soft smile that stretched across his lips.

"Hyung!" He hummed in cheerful surprise, his grin growing when Yoongi shut the door behind him, making it clear he was staying. "What are you doing here?"

Yoongi didn't answer his question. Instead he scowled slightly at the disorganization of the room, and stepped carefully over the articles of clothing that had been tossed aside, making his way towards the wall to Jimin's right. His feet were bare for once, yet still only made a tiny amount of noise with each movement. He was a quiet being.

He slapped his pillow down on the floor, bunching it together to increase its comfort and bounciness. Then, with a gentle puff, he collapsed there, laying his head down softly, his locks strewn out and tousled around his ears, and curled into his regular fetal position. He went to place his hands between his knees, as he always did, but seemed to remember he had to explain himself. He sat up, meeting Jimin's curious gaze.

You're not doing it right.

Jimin's brows furrowed, confused crinkles forming on his smooth skin.

He tilted his head. "What?"

Yoongi gestured towards his suitcase with tired, bored hands, a disapproving twinge crossing over his features.

Packing. You're terrible at it.

Instead of being hurt, Jimin laughed, a light, sunny sound that spilled so warm and fuzzy and sweet into the air. It always took Yoongi off guard.

He nodded, as though he'd expected this. "I know," He giggled. "Hoseok packed my bag the first time. I've never been good at it. My family-before Seo-hyun took me in-we never really went anywhere, and my parents were usually too busy and caught up in their own lives to teach me the proper way to do it. Even if they had, I don't know if I'd be any better. And Noona...well, she wasn't very organized..."