Pretty | Yoonmin (DISCONTINUED)

twenty eight

You know...whenever I got hurt...Seohyun used to sing to me.

Jimin's gaze had been trained on his thumb, the wound there twinging and burning every time he attempted to adjust the wash cloth Yoongi had wrapped around it. But as always, as soon as he'd seen Yoongi's hands raise, poised to sign, he twisted in place to face him.

He'd already changed into a set of fresh, grey sweatpants, and a pastel pink cotton sweater. They both smelled of laundry detergent and washed clothes rather than Jimin's lingering scent, but Yoongi would never admit to caring. Embarrassingly, he'd briefly entertained the idea of digging through Jimin's dirty clothes hamper to find one of his sweaters. Despite being clumsy, the younger boy wasn't a very messy person, and his clothes were often unstained. He'd thought of, perhaps, putting on one of his sweaters. One of the big, soft ones. It would smell like him. It would be something calming to keep with him, some gentle form of comfort to drown himself in whenever he had night terrors, or struggled on the brink of a panic attack.

At the time, he'd dismissed it just as quickly as it had come, waving it away with the mindset of such a thing being utterly ridiculous. But now, he wondered once again if he should steal the sweater he had on once he'd changed out of it, and left his scent laced in the seams of the fabric.

"She did?" Jimin asked him softly, his voice falling back to its breathy, hesitant state. He stared at him with the same uncertainty he'd had that night, when he'd questioned Jin about his aunt and her place in their lives. He'd been convinced that Yoongi would be upset with him for wanting to know about her, and seemed surprised now, that Yoongi so willingly gave him pieces of his own memories in which she was present.

The roundness of his curious eyes, glistening with faint surprise, left Yoongi's chest twinging in sadness.

Yes.

"Was it like..." Jimin paused, tilting his head back. He nibbled on his bottom lip delicately; thinking. "Was it like...pat it...kiss it...stroke it...hug it..."

Three days sunshine... Yoongi continued, a silent chuckle thrumming beneath his collarbones.

Jimin giggled softly, folding the small fingers of his free hand over his curved mouth. "Three days rain..."

Little hand...

"All well again."

Jimin's cheeks scrunched up as a content grin tugged his lips further up. A quiet sigh stirred in the air between them, bundled up in peach tones and hushed sunshine.

"She used to sing that to me...all the time when I was growing up."

Did it make you feel better?

He hummed. "Yes. It was weird. She could have done nothing to my wound, just left it as it was. And just sung that song. And I would just start giggling. She used to do all those silly hand motions too...did she do that to you?"

Yeah she did. I thought she was crazy at first. But then it started to make me smile.

"Mm," Jimin murmured in agreement. His lashes batted his round cheeks, a far off glimmer shadowing his irises. "What kind of smile?"

What do you mean? Confusion crinkled the seamless skin between Yoongi dark brows, and Jimin laughed sweetly at the adorable sight.

"Like...like this one?" Jimin pinched his lips together, keeping them slightly lifted and staring at his hyung with dulled amusement. Yoongi blinked at him, uncomprehending. "Or...this one?"

Jimin beamed at him with all teeth, until his eyes were smiling too.

Is that how I smile?