The Dark Red Umbrella • Yoonmin

Changing : 66

it's been 4 years since i've posted. 49 months exactly. damn.

I have forgotten how to write my friends, and don't remember the plot extraordinarily well. i write differently now and only remember so much of how the story is.

but you guys deserve an update more than anything, so that's what I shall give :)

here it is ❤️ i tried to add the perfect amount of fun and serious. i also am not sure if i've ever written smut in this story? if not, there's a little in here. i've never really done it that i can remember, so i hope it's okay <3

try to go easy on me for this chapter haha.

~

January 8 - Sunday

8:56am

~

Park Jimin was unimpressed with the sky. He was callous to it and convinced that it was playing tricks on him. That the sky wasn't actually this monotonous and the white-haired man whose home he was in more often than not wasn't the only one who enjoyed irritating him to no end. They conspired together against him, the crafted painting across the sky leaving an utterly bitter taste in his mouth.

But the longer he watched, waited as if the sky would change its colors, it only stayed the same. Blue. A deep, dull, contemptuous blue. For days on end, the white flakes slowly fell and fell. And only fell. And the sky stayed blue. And that's all it did.

And Park Jimin was left watching, eagerly waiting as if it would somehow change, wave a magic wand and turn the daring sky into exactly what he wanted.

But it didn't. Like it was waiting for something.

This morning Jimin woke up early and restless, like the sky was taking over him, gittery and full of life. So instead of waking the sleepy white-haired man, he crept out of bed in the darkness and slipped away, making his way from the warm apartment into the freezing cold.

He breathed in the chills that crept and tingled up his spine, admiring the lovely thick patches of snow that coated over the world. He could deal with the cold seeping through his coat sleeves and prickling at his rosy cheeks for it. He wanted to soak it up for as long as possible before Yoongi finally awoke and forced a cup of hot cocoa and blankets upon the blonde who just couldn't get enough of the cold.

He simply just liked feeling something.

Yoongi called him a masochist.

The two of them had spent the last week rotating back and forth between apartments as if they were on an endless carnival ride where they never spent the night alone. Even on the days that Jimin worked far too long, his eyes heavy and feet exhausted, he would tiredly open his apartment where an irritating, happy-eyed white-haired man would be waiting for him.

This had been his first real alone time. His feet were shuffling and picking up snow, breath blowing out puffs of smoke. And instead of finding clarity in the mess that his life was at the moment, school applications and Yoongi and his friends and job, everything jumbling into a concoction of colors, he had something else on his mind.

He and Yoongi were too comfortable. Too nice to each other, words coated in sugar to show the love they had recently just professed. It had been far too long since the last time he pissed Min Yoongi off to no end, getting him back for each time he pulled a malicious prank, that stupid grin of his smearing across his face. He missed seeing Yoongi irritated, his eyes rolling and sigh escaping those beautiful lips of his.