ｗｅ ａｒｅ ａｌｌ ｍａｄ ｈｅｒｅ

thirty eight. [[ stay | myg ]]

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run. | [[ stay. ]]

knj. | ksj. | [[ myg. ]] | jhs. |  pjm.  | kth. | jjk.

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"I'm home."

Yoongi stared at the hallway in the middle of taking off his shoes, waiting. Maybe it was the rather long day at work and the fact that he was in some sort of a slump with his music, but when he didn't hear the hurrying footsteps and your cheerful voice greeting him, it was as if his panic switch flicked. It was a routine you never failed to do ever since the both of you officially dated, and it was one of his favorite moments upon coming back home.

Uncaringly, his bag slid off his shoulder as he bolted towards the living room, heart thumping in his chest and a billion scenarios running wild in his already muddled head, but one hit him harder than the rest:

Did you leave?

He nearly missed the movement at the corner of his eyes while he passed by the kitchen, but fortunately he didn't. The fog cleared up slightly when he saw the back of your familiar figure, his coldness tampered by the domestic sight of you dancing mildly while arranging some kind of food in a muffin tray.

His eyes found the earphones plugged into your ears, and his heavy heart lightened. You hadn't left. You were safe and sound. You didn't leave him.

Yoongi tiptoed towards your side and wrapped his arm around your midsection, while placing his head on your shoulder, knowing how much you loved his occasional attention-seeking behavior. True enough, your eyes widened slightly, and he thought he saw fear flashing before your eyes, but it was replaced with a loving gaze as your eyes landed on him. You quickly unplugged your earphones and stowed them away on the counter along with your phone before placing your arms on top of his.

"Hey! You're-- really early!" You said after glancing at the clock on the wall.

He closed his eyes and sighed, "Meeting didn't go as well as I wanted it to."

"Oh no," you said sympathetically, but then there it was -- the lilt of fear in your voice. Subtle, but it was there.

He was just being paranoid..... right?

Your boyfriend looked away and tried to change the subject, not wanting to sullen your mood, "What're you making?"

"Just a simple recipe I found in Pinterest!" You seemed glad at the switch of topic, and started to ramble off the ingredients you had placed in the tray. He followed your explanation absentmindedly, but his attention was stolen by the phone on the side of the bakeware.

"Mhm," he gave a noncommittal grunt and grabbed your earphones, oblivious to the panic in your eyes as soon as his fingers touched the accessory, "What were you listening to?"

As soon as his ears picked up the first few seconds of the song, he felt the first bubble of anger brew in his chest.

"What's this?" he asked, facing you fully, the previous affection completely gone from his demeanor as he held up the piece of plastic, "Who are you listening to?"

"Yoongi.... It's--It's nothing, I promise," you said softly, trying to assuage his silent anger.

"Is it boring?" he seethed, all the rejections and criticisms that haunted him crashing down at him like a hurricane, taking his rationality away from him as he lashed out, "My songs, are they not good enough anymore? Not worth listening to? Is that it?"