the boy with the dragon tattoo - yoonmin

chapter nine

Yoongi awakens the next morning to pounding on his door. He felt like he had just fallen asleep, and after checking his bedside clock he realises that that was practically the case. He'd slept a little less than an hour. Yoongi rubs his bleary eyes and turns around towards his door, which was shaking with the force of the knocks.

"Hyung! You have to get up!"

Taehyungs voice rings out through the wood, the doorknob jingles a bit and then there's a loud curse and more banging.

Yoongi groans and stands, his head tilts at an uncomfortable angle but he ignores it in favour of unlocking the door, and the minute he does, it's getting swung open so fast yoongi almost trips backwards in his haste to dodge in order to save himself getting whacked in the face. Like his morning wasn't already going so well.

"Jesus taehyung, no need to bash the fucking door down," Yoongi grumbles, rubbing his eyes.

"Well it would have been easier if you hadn't locked your door," taehyung argues, crossing his arms and pouting.

Yoongi rubs a hand down his face. "So what, you could hit me with a pillow instead? No thank you."

Taehyung glares a little. "Someone's grouchy this morning. Jin-hyung made eggs, so if you want any come get them."

He turns and leaves and yoongi feels guilt gnaw at his insides for being so short with the younger. But fuck if that was a terrible way to get woken up. Yoongi sighs and throws on a large hoodie because out of the comfort of his warm bed the air was nippy, sending chills down his spine. Maybe the chills wasn't just because of the cold, either. Yoongi tried not to think about what was going to happen that evening, but as always his mind always wandered back no matter how hard he tried to stop it. He steps out into the hallway and doesn't bother even looking at himself, he knew he looked like death. Perhaps he could get out of practice today, although, wallowing by himself in the apartment didn't seem like a very good idea, either. He supposed that he probably should tell his friends before he leaves later, he could either tell the truth, some version of the truth, or lie completely.

Lie completely was off the table, because he didn't have enough resolve in him. He didn't feel up to anything right now, much less trying to make a lie sound real.
But telling the truth completely was also not going to happen, for obvious reasons.
So the best option was telling a version of the truth, and yoongi knew what he'd have to do. He didn't want to, but he had to. At least a little.

Yoongi steels himself and starts to pad tiredly down the hallway, figuring he'd make it up as he went along. He wasn't very bothered, but he knew he wouldn't be able to do much today. He'd probably break his neck in practice and going to the studio was completely pointless.
Yoongi sits down on the only available seat beside Jimin and Namjoon with a small frown that he ducks his head to hide.

"finally you're awake," Jin admonishes, pointing a chopstick with bits of egg on the end of it at yoongis face and waving it around, like he was picturing wiggling it around in yoongi eye socket. "Help yourself," he gestures to the table with said chopstick and yoongi picks up a pair of his own.

He didn't feel much like eating. He didn't feel much like doing anything. Hunger didn't gnaw at his stomach like he knew it should, he hadn't eaten in a long time. Instead everything ached with emptiness that yoongi wasn't so sure he could fill with food. But he piles on some omelette anyway as the soft chatter around him fills his ears.

He picks at it, twirling bits of mushroom and cheese around his plate as he rests his chin on his palm. He didn't know how to bring it up, but he supposed that being next to Namjoon, while the younger was messy and spilt his soy sauce everywhere, was a bit of a blessing.