Pretty | Yoonmin (DISCONTINUED)

twenty six

"Um...Yoongi hyung?" Yoongi heard Jimin's voice call out from the other side of his bedroom door, clinging onto the raspiness of disuse in sleep, and bleeding through with soft hints of anxiety. His slow words were accompanied by the shuffling of hesitant feet. As though he had never stood outside of his bedroom before, like he never woke him up in the morning for breakfast. "Are you awake?"

He was indeed awake. He was pulled from slumber some time during the early hours of amethyst morning, before the dawn had even kissed the sky. He'd napped already, yesterday in the small time constraint they'd had alone before Jin showed up on his doorstep, and it had been the best sleep he'd had in a while. He hadn't been very tired when night had come, and seeing as Jimin was too exhausted to walk straight, it seemed that if he stayed up, he would have been staying up alone. He didn't usually mind this, but the evening had been warm and painted in glimmering colors by the sound of Jimin's laughter dancing with Jin's, his sleepy lashes, and his hushed, timid words. He didn't feel like being alone, and worry over Jimin's health and well being continued to plague him, so he decided it would be better to give into slumber, even if it didn't feel particularly inviting. He had another nightmare, though it was mild in comparison to those he had in the past, and it didn't leave him too harrowed.

He simply ended up reading, using the light of his bedside lamp, and bundled under the warm blankets until Jimin's reluctant knock on the door drew his attention away.

He placed a book mark between the pages of his book, and set it down on his dresser. He didn't feel like leaving the affectionate heat that his sheets promised him, but he knew that Jimin would be just as warm as any blanket. And after last night, he wanted to see him anyway.

He kicked off the fabric that had wound itself around his legs in the night, and stumbled to his feet. His body swayed a little, unused to the upright position, but sorted itself out quite quickly, and Yoongi puffed out a small breath through his nose before yanking the door open.

He expected to find the Jimin that had been missing for the past three days, the one with glowing skin and a tender smile. But though the soft flush of warmth and rest had returned to his fluffy cheeks and seamless flesh, he looked strangely sad. Something subtle, not nearly as panicked and frantic as he had been the evening before, but rather something that showed itself in the gentle curve of his shoulders and the arms that held his stomach carefully, as though trying to soothe it. His eyes were darker than usual, in a sense that shadows had tangled themselves in his irises, and pleaded for his undivided attention, drawing him farther away from Yoongi and filling the boy's head with heavy lies. And Yoongi knew that the irritation of his orifices hadn't been caused by lack of sleep. The curl of his lips, shuffling of his weight, and contraction of his structure, like Jimin was attempting to make himself smaller, were easily recognizable signs that the younger wasn't feeling his best today.

He looked like he'd been crying.

When he noticed Yoongi's intense stare picking out the wavering lines of his figure and tightness of his features, he tried to force a smile. But it had been cut from some glossy magazine and pinned to his plush lips, stained in desperation and quietly hurting.

"Good morning hyung." His voice was as gentle as ever, blossoming against his skin in brushes of aster.

A tender smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth without his consent, and he realized that he longed to see Jimin's real, good morning smile.

Good morning flower.

His reaction was sluggish, like his mind was buffering in the process of absorbing his movements. But as soon as it registered in his brain that Yoongi was indeed referring to him, flashes of velvet smeared the slopes of his cheeks and tinged the tips of his ears. His eyes stretched, a hiss of air slipping between his teeth, and his feet stuttered backwards, as if he could escape his own embarrassment. Flustered again. Yoongi had flustered Jimin again.