742 - Yoongi x reader

Part 32

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Sitting upright in your bed, the time slowly passed around you as your body remained frozen.

Gawking in disbelief at your closed bedroom door, your eyes began to water from refusing to blink, finally jolting you back into movement once more.

Oh god, I must be hallucinating.

Am I still drunk???

The thought that your masked 'Genius' had magically transported back into Seoul without your knowledge, was already more than enough for your pounding headache to handle.

But the idea that he stayed the night with you inside your cramped and untidy apartment to make sure you didn't die, or choke on your own vomit was beyond absurd.

Absolutely not.

There is no f*cking way...

But if it really wasn't him, then who or what could it have been?

Maybe Ji-eun..?

No.

Ji-eun certainly wasn't strong enough to carry you up 3 flights of stairs.

Despite her best efforts, you had already learnt that the hard way, winding up in the back of an ambulance with a mild concussion.

Then who?

Whether it be just your spiraling, hungover mind beginning to play cruel tricks on you, or the illogical and unthinkable idea that your masked crush really did spare that much time and patience for you, one thing was definitely certain.

The shattering sounds moments earlier accompanied by the slamming of your bedroom door were still ringing fresh in your mind as your eyes finally lowered to the ground for confirmation.

Your Army Bomb was completely and utterly broken.

You scrunched your face up in pain as your eyes scoured its fractured and lifeless body, the mere cost of a replacement sending waves of rage and regret right through you.

God f*cking dammit.

What have I done...

Leaping out of your bed in a wild fit of adrenaline, completely ignoring the sickening sensation going on inside your stomach, you needed to confirm your suspicions and learn who on earth had just burst through your door earlier, traumatizing you to the point of imagining Mr.742 in their place.

Who ever it was, the bastard was surely about to pay.

Taking the last few steps over to your closed bedroom door, you took a cautious breath in as you stretched your hand out to open the door, loudly swinging it open to reveal...

Nothing.

And no one.

As you propped your pathetically exhausted body against your door-frame, your tired eyes scanned the apartment looking for anything out of place, with a few things quickly setting alarm bells off inside your head.

First, your shoes for the night were neatly placed in front of the door, something that was surely not your own doing.

Because you've never come home drunk before and NOT thrown your heels across the floor in pain-ridden anger and regret.

Second, you spotted the pale blue fluffy blanket that usually sat untouched in your storage closet, but was now folded neatly and placed at the end of your sofa.

Huh...?

You know that you hadn't touched that thing in months, the new grey blanket with your childhood dog embroidered onto it had taken its place a month prior and was currently hanging outside to dry.