vampire's pet(Vkook)

3.7

It starts small, an everyday reminder that Jungkook really does want Taehyung back.

"Taehyung?" Yoongi's voice is rough, like the crackle of an orange leaf in an autumn's day, it wavers slightly—a confused question. The werewolf blinks blearily at the object clutched in one of his pale porcelain hands; in the other, he tightly holds a coffee mug, steaming a white trail of vapour.

The man in mention mumbles out an incomprehensible sound from the other side of the apartment. Taehyung opens his eyes slightly, wincing at the onslaught of light. His gaze is blurred and only when he blinks does everything he sees come to a sharpness. Taehyung sits up on his bed for a few seconds, warm bedsheets crinkled around him like a pool of water. He groans, staring angrily at a slip of light that has crept through a gap between his curtains.

It may be 11 in the morning but it's too early.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side and runs his tongue over his parched lips. His eyes stay hooded as he fights an oppressive wave of exhaustion. "Yes?" he calls out on the brink of sleep.

"You might wanna' come—I'm at the entrance," Yoongi shouts.

Taehyung's posture slouches. He mutters out a half-assed yes before he groans and roughly tousles his hair. It's a bedraggled mess, sticking in all directions almost like a confused palm tree that's gone through a mid-life crisis.

He tumbles out of his bed (read: he rolls out of bed). His feet hit the ground with a loud thud that echoes across the still room. He grumbles under his breath and sulks as the heat hibernating under his bedsheets waves good-bye at him. He walks to his window and prepares himself as he opens the curtains of his window. Raw orange light floods the room, painting his plant (called Jerome) a rich shade of shamrock and the plant pot a rich shade of umber; he glances at his bed, sheets carelessly are strewn across the bed, forming a unique terrain of little mountains and valleys.

His bedroom door creaks open as he walks through it. He walks through the kitchen-living-room, blinking disorientatedly as the light grows stronger and wrinkling his nose at the heavy scent of coffee that's glossed over all the furniture.

He stops as he sees Yoongi near the entrance to his apartment. He cocks his head, lips unconsciously pouting as his eyes register what Yoongi's clasping in his slender pale hands. He narrows his eyes before returning his gaze to Yoongi's patient and expectant face.

"Did you seriously call me here just for you to tell me somebody bought you flowers?"

They're gorgeous really, an explosion of blue orchids with violet-tinged petals as if somebody had dunked the vibrant blue beauties in a pot of purple paint. The stems are brown and thick and they seem to cower away from Taehyung, a stark contrast to the eager flowers that seem to lunge forward at the man.

Expensive. Expensive is what runs through Taehyung's mind. His mother used to adore orchids but sadly her love came with a pricey cost and eventually they stopped buying her bouquets from the nearby florists.

Yoongi laughs without humour. "They're not for me. They're for you," he responds.

He thrusts them at Taehyung, eyeing him with an interest that makes Taehyung queasy. The man accepts them, fingers curling around the stem gingerly.

"I don't know anyone that would give me flowers," Taehyung replies, frowning as his eyes stare into an innocent pair of converses in the distance as he ponders in thought.

Yoongi smiles grimly. "There's a note, tucked at the bottom." Taehyung's eyebrows furrow, Yoongi sounds...sad?

The former's breath hitches when his eyes trail the name scribbled on a little flap of paper that has been attached to the broad stems of the bouquet. He freezes for a second. His eyes enlargen and the world seems to stop at an almighty stand still, even his heart pauses to watch the scene.