SEESAW | min yoongi | complete

never

I sit on the edge of the bathtub in my hotel room, my body numb and disconnected from my jumbled thoughts.

After the crying fiasco subsided I was left with the reality of having to be an adult with a job. I went into airplane mode, my body dragging me from the nest of my sheets into the bright bathroom. I showered, changed, refreshed my small ponytail with hotel conditioner and currently sat brushing my teeth.

I stare at tiled floor with extreme interest, my thoughts like a bowl of entangled ramen.

I imagine what would’ve happened if Yoongi admitted having feelings for me, what I would’ve said if he told me I was more than just a director to him, more than a noona. I try to envision telling the others of our relationship, how each of them would have a dramatic response.

After what feels like an eternity I stand onto my feet, shaking my head as if the thoughts would disperse, and spit the paste out of my mouth into the sink.

There were no ifs to ponder. Yoongi only says what he means.

“Noona?” a yell quickly followed by a knock slips under my doorway and I sigh, rinsing my lips and toothbrush quickly.

I look like I have been hit by a bus, but there was nothing more I could do. I didn’t pack any make up nor did I feel up to doing any so I was stuck with puffy under eyes that made my almond shape nearly swallow the entirety of my eyes, severe cottonmouth and a noticeably red tinged face to complete the look.

Another round of knocks snap me back into motion, and I reach the door in record time, pulling it open to reveal Jeongguk and Hoseok. “Good m--” they stop short, taking in my appearance.

Afraid to speak, aware my voice is probably hoarse, I just stare expectantly.

“Would you like to get breakfast?” Hoseok is the first to speak, the question tinged with concern.

I promptly shake my head.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning,” Hoseok frowns, arm slipping off of Jeongguk’s shoulder to lay at his side. “You should eat.”

I faintly remember the muffin I got from the hotel breakfast bar before we left to the first interview yesterday morning. My stomach did a nauseating flip at the thought of it.

“Is everything okay?” this time Jeongguk speaks, his tongue poking his cheek nervously. “With you?”

Tears prickle the backs of my eyes and I quickly avert my gaze to the ceiling in an effort to staunch them.

If only you knew.

His hand wraps around my wrist that Yoongi held only hours ago as he tries to comfort me, “We’re getting breakfast.”

I dare to speak, pushing aside my mixed emotions and pulling away from the contact, “I’m waiting for an early conference call.”

The lie sinks in the air between us three, none of us acknowledging its validity.

Hoseok simply steps back, the action releasing tension on both sides, “We’ll bring it back to you.”

I don’t reply as I close the door with a soft thud.

My heart aches with the realization that I can’t let anyone in. None of them can know.

What good would it do anyways?

I fell back into airplane mode, fetching my laptop charger from the ground next to the desk and plugging it into the dying machine. It whirs to life and I take the time to fold up the mess Yoongi made in my suitcase, thoughts lingering on the feeling of his fingers on my skin.

Once my laptop dings to life, I log in and access my email. I read over the schedule several times, setting alarms on my phone and updating their social media on their whereabouts. I make my hotel bed and reorganize the bathroom.

When there’s nothing left to do, I look into my reflection and put on a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. It will have to do.

There was nothing between us. Every mug of coffee was courtesy, every request to listen to music was professional and every time he would speak to me was to keep up appearances for the others.

I repeat a mantra of “Yoongi is not mine. I am not his. We can never be.” until I feel my broken heart aching for me to stop.

The knock on my door is soft, almost unnoticeable if I hadn’t been so quiet. “Noa noona,” I recognize Hoseok’s voice.

I approach the door then swing it open, taking in the two boys. He holds a plate stacked high with waffles and assortment of fruits along with a ginger smile. Jeongguk holds both a coffee and orange juice in his hands, eyes peeking curiously over the glasses.

But I’ll never lose my family.

An appreciative grin faintly lifts my lips as I motion for them to enter. “Thank you,” I softly say when they pass the threshold. “You two are a Godsend.”