Who Knew // YoonMin

1| Didn't expect that

~ Yoongis POV ~

I don't wanna get up. 

Maybe I should just get back to sleep... Ugh, yeah, yeah, I know I can't.

I kick the blanket off of my body and get up. I hardly ever look into the mirror or have breakfast, so I just wash up, brush my teeth, take my stuff and escape the dangerous silence of my small apartment. 

I hate it. The silence, I mean...

On my way to school, I plug my headphones in and listen to the song me and Namjoon finished producing yesterday. I still don't get why he wants to hang out with me, but whatever... making music is my everything, so as long as I can still do that, I don't mind his company. Music gives me a reason to breathe and relax. Simple as that. And Namjoon kinda gets it. I wouldn't consider him a friend, though. I don't want friends.

I mean... why is everyone so fond of making friends anyways? People lie and cheat and honestly don't care about you. They always ask 'hey, how're you?', but the only thing they actually wanna do, is talk about how great their lives are. People are all about drama, and faking happiness, and that's just not me. I don't do drama, I don't like fake things.

Namjoon is kinda different though. He doesn't pretend to like me, he sometimes asks how I am, but mostly he just wants to talk about music. Even though I'm a much better writer than a talker, it feels natural with him and he doesn't judge. Every line I ever shared with him has been discussed in a professional way - he never once asked me where I got these dark ideas from. It helps me in a way.

We're not friends, but at least I'm not alone with my thoughts. 

I stop walking to grab my notebook and a pen to write that down.
That's the shit my lyrics consist of, ya know? Just random thoughts that get me through the day. 

Suddenly my actions and thoughts get interrupted by someone bumping into me. 

The fuck?! Can't they watch out for once?!

My notebook drops to the ground and I remove my headphones with a sigh before bending down to pick it back up. Just then, a smaller hand appears out of nowhere and snatches it away right before my eyes. 

Shit. Every line I wrote within the last couple of weeks is in there. 

People don't know much about me and I wanna make sure to keep it that way. I don't need anyone making fun of me. My whole body stiffens when I hear the mumbled apology of the guy that almost knocked me over. His voice almost sounds... angelic? 

Huh. That's odd.

I don't usually listen to my surroundings, but his voice catches my attention. I'm about to look at him, when I flinch as he tries to help me up by holding onto my hand. 

Y: "Yah! Don't touch---"

He pulls me up with a little too much force, so my chest crashes against his, pushing some air out of my lungs. 

Y: "...me."

My mind shuts down for a second, and we just stare at each other for what feels like forever. Is he wearing blue contacts? Dude... but then I slowly realize who this is and how worried he looks.

I can feel his breath drifting over my mouth, which sends shivers down my spine. If there was anyone else standing so close to me, I would've said they're being too close. I don't like being touched by strangers, but... 

His grip on my hand tightens, yet somehow I really don't mind holding onto it a little longer. He's warm. Soft. 

Looking down at the source of the breathing, I catch myself admiring his parted soft-looking plump lips while biting down on my own. I swallow.