vớ vẩn 2

chap 5 - No Underwear

Seokjin was woken up from his slumber to the sound of heated yelling and for a moment he couldn't seem to open his eyes or even move. He was tired, physically drained after nearly eight hours on the road with just a single stop for food, pissing in the slightest growth of bushes they had been able to find because there were no toilets out in the middle of freeways and desolate roads leading out of the city. He could hear the noise and yet it was all muffled as if his head was packed full of cotton wool, could see nothing more than blackness behind his eyelids as he tried to force them open, Something was happening outside, happening on the stretch of concrete path that ran the length of the building like a sidewalk, but he didn't know what because he couldn't make the words out. Were the other patrons in the hostel arguing over something? Was the owner forcibly evicting someone? He didn't know and to find out that meant that he needed to wake up fully.

He rolled onto his side before sitting up slowly, legs swinging over the edge of the bed so that his feet brushed against the itchy carpet pile. His eyelids felt swollen but he managed to force them open and stare across the room. The first thing that he noticed was the small window on the wall facing him, open a crack to let the gauzy curtains dance lightly from a soft breeze. It brought in the scent of gasoline and the sound of droning traffic and shouting voices: shouting male voices from what he could discern. On the sill he saw the stubbed out remains of three cigarettes, undoubtedly the result of Yoongi finishing a packet in the hours that he hadn't been able to sleep. There might be a few on the carpet too but he hoped that that was not the case. He dragged his eyes away to look at the other bed and saw Namjoon curled up tightly in the covers, bump hinting that he might have his knees drawn up against his chest in the foetal position. He could see his arm and he realised that he was pressing his pillow over his ears to try and block the noise, white lump wrapped around his head like an over-sized set of earmuffs. Seokjin reached up to rub at his heavy eyelids and then turned his head to look across the room. Small coffee table with Namjoon's hoodie strewn over it, one arm hanging over the side so that the cuff was on the carpet, half-empty bottle of water that had dents in the plastic and tears in the paper wrapper around the body. The battered settee was just behind it and he saw Yoongi lying on it. He was on his back but twisted to the side to fit on comfortably; legs tucked up on the cushioned seat and head turned sideways against the pillow their friend had given him. His jacket was over the upper half of his body like a blanket and one arm was dangling over the side so that his fingers were grazing an inch or so off the floor. He was asleep for once, the sound didn't seem to have disturbed him yet, mouth open in a slight pout as his eyes slowly moved under his closed lids. He eyed his arm and saw that the young man was a little too pale, thin and frail-looking so that his elbow joint looked too large between his fore and upper arm, so that the curve of his wrist bone protruded sharply from his skin. He had noticed him barely eating anything yesterday, just picking at the fries and sipping at a soda every now and again rather than eating a proper meal. The leftovers he had packed in his holdall, presumably the remains of yesterday's breakfast, had been given to the kids last night to save it being tossed into the trash.

Yoongi had called himself a bad influence but he really had no idea. Seokjin thought that he was his own worst enemy and that he had a much worst influence on himself than the kids. Working three jobs without a decent break, up to eighteen hours a day spent slaving away and the remaining six spent travelling between locations and attempting to sleep, smoking himself into a near coma over the entire duration. At least he seemed to have had some rest for today and hopefully he would eat more than a dozen fries over the hours on the road. He was going to make sure that he did and-

"...fucking hands off him!"

The voice caught him by surprise and Seokjin cocked his head. It sounded like Jungkook's voice but why would he be shouting like that? Surely he had just misheard it? But it was enough to make him get to his feet and cross the room to get to the door. He went to open it when he remembered that it was locked and he stopped twisting the handle to stare at the lock. The keys. There was the table just beside the door and he reached over to snatch them out of the little cut glass bowl before shoving them into the keyhole and twisting hard. He stepped outside and felt that the concrete underfoot was cold and dusty, and then he caught sight of something moving quickly out of the corner of his eye and when he turned his head he saw a blur of someone darting back into the room beside their one: the unmistakable sight of Jungkook racing back inside.