The night I fell in love

Fall

Yoongi prov.

I lie on the floor, cold concert on my back in my room. A shiver goes down my back, thinking about getting in the way of my slumber. The conversation that we last had keeps repeating in my mind.

~~~~~~

"I guess the storm is getting pretty bad out there." i look to my left at the window that stud at the end of the hall. The wooden frame looking like it was going to fall right out of the wall, leaving a gaping hole.

The storm had only had gotten worst. The once slow rain drops, turning into a waterfall of the the ege of the dirty gutters.

I look back at her red eyes. I can see the fear in them.

They are begging me to go.
I can't get her out of my head.

~~

What if-

No!
I shouldn't assume things. I don't have the facts.

I stay quiet with my thoughts and I hear the cries again. I hope she is ok.

I sit up and put my weight on my hands. They start to slightly turn white and red from the presser.

I look at the black alarm clock on my wooden night stand that I got from Ikea. The numbers on the clock glow red at me.

4:36 𝗮𝗺

I let out a frustrating sigh. I have to go to work tomorrow at 8. I get up on my feet and tiredly walk to my bed. I can't hear her cry anymore she must have fell asleep.

I get underneath the warm black sheets and plop my head on my pillow. My eyes slowly shut, I fall back into my slumber.

~ 6:50 𝗮𝗺

I groan at the sound of my alarm clock screaming at me to get up.

The sun beams in through the thin black curtains that are at the bottom of my hot bed
I swing my feet to the side of bed and slide of the edge.

Authors prov.

Getting out of the hot sweaty sheets and heading straight to the shower. 

He'd been to tired to move quickly. Standing in the shower for almost twenty minutes, he scrubbed the grease ball of a head and tried to get the smell of burnt meat out of his nostrils. The sift he had last night was long and tiresome. He groaned with relief at the feeling of being clean.

He had woke up in his cotton sheets to a sweaty back and thighs, strangely, considering that the night had started with the wind blowing and the rain plowing along with it.

Walking back into his room fully refreshed. He has a white towel around his Waste and one he had been messing around with his mint colored hair.

He grabs the black shirt that has is name tag on it off the chair that sits in the corner of his small room.  He throws it on and grabs the boxers that sit on the pile of clothes he "forgot" to hang up two nights ago.

Pulling up the black dress pants with the black belt still in the rings of the paints. He pulls the belt until the hole the sliver medal had been gripping in on for that past year and a half  he had got this job.