Our Rain Soaked Bodies | YOONJIN

9. HOLD ME TIGHT

DESPITE THE COMMON belief, Yoongi is actually a decent cook. It's just laziness that gets him, especially when Korean dishes take a horrendous amount of time to prepare the myriads of banchan and side dishes. But this morning, maybe once in a blue moon, Yoongi takes time to cook a full array of breakfast.

He prepared, went for a quick grocery shopping and even plated the special kimchi his mom gave him to eat it on festive occasions. Therefore Yoongi was beyond relieved when Seokjin came into the kitchen and asked "You made all of this?" with sheer amazement on his face.

"Didn't know you cook," Seokjin says in between of bites of his egg rolls. With his messy bed hair and tired look, he looked like a starving person who's enjoying the only food it was given to him. "I thought you lived like a dying college student."

"Oh, I do live like a dying college student. You're just lucky today." Yoongi smiles down at his rice, mainly focused on the man sitting in front of him than breakfast.

Seokjin talks with his mouth full. "I took a culinary class for two months when I was in college. I'm not a chef or anything, I just like cooking for myself and others. But me living alone is pretty dull. I always make more than I can eat. I mean I eat the leftovers in the morning but it's always nice to have a company for dinner and I thought maybe I could cook for you someday as payback..." Seokjin's word fuzzles out as the realization of his words dawn on him. Yoongi can see it on his face, a confusion then guilt.

The silence feels so tight that Yoongi thinks it can shatter like glass at any moment but then Seokjin puts down his chopsticks and before Yoongi could ask what's wrong, he abruptly stands up from the table. "I'm sorry, I should leave." He grabs his phone, keys, and jacket that's been tucked on the back of a chair, all while avoiding Yoongi's gaze. "Coming here drunk and unannounced. I caused you enough trouble already—"

Yoongi couldn't say anything, struck with a sense of déjà vu happening at the moment and distracted with his own inner turmoil. Seokjin, ready to leave, stops at the doorway and finally looks up at him. Whatever he saw on Yoongi, it made him hang his head down and clench his jaw. "I'm sorry." He whispers, voice repentant.

"Tell me what I did wrong." Yoongi hears himself says so softly.

Seokjin's eyebrows clunch in confusion and he opens his mouth—to object or to explain—but nothing comes out except for an apology. And then he was out of the door.

Yoongi sits silently, his heart weighing down his whole body and his ears ringing with the echos of all those time Seokjin slipped out of his door, again and again, again and again. When will he see Seokjin next time? Tomorrow? Next week? Month? Or even never?

Please don't go. Only three words but why is Yoongi so shit at saying out aloud? Why could he ask him to stay on the first night they met? Why couldn't he say things as he means it? Why couldn't he?

Why?

Yoongi shots up from his chair and runs after Seokjin. If this is the last time he will see of Seokjin then it is not ending like this. He has so many things to say, so many thoughts in his brain.

He rushes like he's almost flying. Out of the door and sprinting down the stairs, Yoongi's too hurried to wait for the elevator. When he comes out into the parking lot in front of his building block, all he could see was rain. Like a sheen curtain, the rain was pouring in thick waves and he sees nobody on the yawning stretch of the streets. For a second Yoongi thinks he's too late—Seokjin has already left—too late.

Then something catches his eyes, someone in the distance, not sure if it's Seokjin or not but Yoongi runs out into the rain without a second thought. His legs are tripping over each other like he doesn't see where he's stepping and his breath is overlapping like he can't catch it fast enough—he runs like his life depends on it.