sᴛʀᴀᴡʙᴇʀʀʏ ᴊᴀᴍ ↝ sᴏᴘᴇ ✔︎

🕒 𝗷𝗲 𝘁'𝗮𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝟰:𝟯 🕒

After Hoseok and Yoongi introduced one another and slowly let their hands fall to their sides, despite how much they secretly loved the warm handshake more than they should and nearly refused to let go, a comfortable silence filled the small, black elevator and soon they were enveloped in nothing but their own thoughts.

Believe it or not, being trapped inside an elevator made great time for reflecting on practically anything — starting all the way from their birth up until this very moment that fate somehow led them to.

It was weird and peculiar, but neither of them really questioned it since it was unarguably a moderately common thing to occur; maybe not on a daily basis but the overall idea of being stuck in an elevator wasn't foreign to them.

So there they sat: two people in their early twenties who just happened to meet due to a technical issue in a foreign country, not giving them any other option but to make conversation until they were freed out of the cramped space to eliminate any awkward tension.

But with how things were going, it looked like being awkward or timid with one another wasn't a threat hanging above their heads. Because so far, everything had gone quite smoothly especially regarding their rather sticky situation and normally reserved personalities.

Yet somehow, as if it was some type of miracle, the flow of conversation came easy when talking to each other like it was nothing. No awkward silences or weird gaps filled the air, but only a comforting atmosphere that put them both at ease immediately.

Still, despite how not-awkward it was to just sit in silence with a total stranger, Yoongi was still desperate to find out more about the guy named Hoseok.

Because oddly enough, he already found himself completely intrigued, and he had no idea why. It was just an itching feeling that crawled up his sides; as if begging him to find out every hidden secret or mystery about the stranger with strawberry blond hair next to him.

And so, he listened to his gut instinct.

"So uhh, how long are you staying in Paris for?" Yoongi inquired, cocking his head to the side before perching his back up against the opposite wall so he was now facing Hoseok from directly across the tiny space.

Humming in thought, Hoseok ran a hand through his wavy locks before responding with a soft and simple, "About a week, til next Friday. Why do you ask?"

In all honesty, Yoongi really didn't know why he asked, but with the teasing tone underlying Hoseok's voice he wanted to basically shove himself out of the conveyor belt and down the unknown depths into an oblivion.

Does he think I'm interested? Fuck FUCK cuckdnfkidjsjwjhwjwj SHIT

No, I'm probably overthinking things, Yoongi told himself, taking a deep inhale of breath before preparing himself for a response.

Though when his eyes met the person sitting cross legged in front of him, Yoongi could've sworn he saw a twinkle of mischief sparkling inside those big, warm hazelnut eyes — as if daring Yoongi to initiate what Hoseok was suggesting with his cheeky tone.

Which, by the way, made Yoongi quite flustered since although he absolutely loved making new friends and he couldn't help but hope that Hoseok would become one some day, he did not, under any circumstance, handle anything even so subtly flirtatious well.

Especially with someone he barely knew.

With that small, yet still visible smirk now playing on Hoseok's lips, and eyebrows slightly raised as if urging him on to continue — Yoongi already felt his cheeks heat up and into a strawberry hue now coating the expanse of his entire face.