SEESAW | min yoongi | complete

done

“Appaaaaa,” I whine as he pulls out his phone to show Namjoon my baby pictures. “Nooooo.”

Jeongguk and Jimin snicker, pushing me out the way as they huddle my father, awaiting my horrific younger years.

I march away from them to find my mother who was whisked away by Taehyung and Hoseok when she spoke of her cooking my favorite meal Seolleongtang.
They closed the store front of their moving business to spend the little time we had before our flight with me.

It was weird to imagine other employees that took my place as I pass through the aisles of boxes and tape. I spot Taehyung and Hoseok playing with a roll of masking tape at the end of one of the aisles and smile.

“Eomma?” I call as I pass the help desk, deciding to let them have their fun, and head to the storage room.

There wasn’t much to see, but I took my time as I made my way past dollys, back braces, and furniture slips. It wasn’t long until I heard my mother's thick Daegu accent mixing with a softer one. I slow my pace, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“She’s very stubborn, very head strong. Like her father. But she does have a heart. A big one that gets carried away,” her mother sighs, her head coming into view as I reach the doorway.

“I have seen,” Yoongi chuckles lightly. “Her heart is dangerous.”

“She loves hard. With all she has. Every boyfriend breaks my little girl,” my mother shakes her head with distaste. “She is always broken.”

I knock on the door frame and they both turn my direction. I avoid Yoongi’s gaze, focusing on my mother as I wrap her into a hug.

“I missed you, eomma,” I mumble into her thinning jet black tresses, her scent making me feel at peace.

She hugs me back shortly before pinching at my sides. “My, my, you haven’t eaten properly in months!”

I roll my eyes playfully, gently swatting her hands. “It’s called getting in shape,” I reply.

“Come, eat!” she hops out of her seat to gather a plastic plate and piles it high with her home cooking.

I obey her command and lower into the seat beside hers, increasingly aware of Yoongi’s charcoal eyes on me. When she drops the plate in front of me, I bow my head and eat vigorously, savoring the meal.

“Your friend here was telling me that you are impressive at what you do,” my mother beams at me, slipping away behind me, fiddling with the tupperware. “Very good at managing. We taught you well.”

I murmur a “Mhm” in between bites, watching Yoongi’s fingers dance across the table top, his telltale sign that he has something on his mind.

“I’m going to check on appa! He should be eating too. Matter of fact everyone should,” before I can protest or join her, she disappears leaving me alone with him.

I try not to show the discomfort on my face, willing the confidence I had nearly two days ago about ignoring his existence to come back.

He clears his throat, but I don’t lift my head. “Noa,” his raspy voice utters my name and I internally beg my heart to stop aching. “We should talk.”

“What for?” I struggle with my temper, the facade of not caring harder to keep up than I expected.

“I shouldn’t have left...” he trails off.

I force myself to not react to his slowness, knowing he does it just to annoy me.

“I didn’t mean what I said to you,” he pauses, the soft sucking sound I once found adorable resembling a chainsaw now, “I don’t know what you are to me... But you are something.”

“Did Bang-shi tell you to do this?” I ask, shoving my chopsticks into my plate, stabbing through a chunk of pork belly.

He sighs, leaning forward, his hand dangerously close to mine. “No. I wanted to apologize for what I did. I’m not an affectionate person. I don’t like being noticed for doing things for people I care ab--”

“The one thing I hate about the seesaw,” I begin bitterly, unable to speak above a whisper in fear of my voice cracking, my fingers curling into a fist. “The game is never ending. Someone will always keep pushing themselves off the ground to see the other fall.”

He goes silent, probably wondering what the hell I’m saying.

“Min Yoongi,” I find the strength in my moment of oozing honesty to look into those soul crushing eyes, my love for him still pounding in my veins despite knowing its uselessness. “I’m done playing with you. I’m getting off.”

The shouts and laughter of the other members flood into my ears, but I hold the dark haired man’s gaze, hoping it pains him as much as it pains me.