ʜᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ➵ sᴏᴘᴇ ✔︎

ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀs sʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋs ʙʏ

[A/N: a lot of ppl said they didn't get wattshit's notif yesterday so make sure you've read last chapter before this one uwu thank u hehe]

Jung Hoseok.

Jung Hoseok.

Jung Hoseok.

That same name rung inside his head over and over again like a bell, almost as if it was purposefully alerting him to do something — to initiate something in regards to this person.

A person he barely knew, yet found himself diving into the deep depths of his own mind pool in the early hours of the morning, listening to the early bird's melodies as they chirped away to the golden and pastel hues painted across the sky from the rising sun. It was such an odd thing to contemplate, to think about, to dream about.

After all, what was he supposed to contemplate?

As stated before, Yoongi was absolutely clueless when it came to that name: Hoseok.

They've never had a full out conversation before, only small and insignificant snippets of interactions here and there imploded onto them by a snappy teacher's orders to converse with the people around you. Other than that, there wasn't any other reason for them to be friends.

Despite how much Yoongi wanted to be something more than simple acquaintances.

Even during art class the two didn't get the chance to freely talk to one another without having a eye-piercing glare sent to them across the room from their teacher, regardless how much both of them desperately wanted to.

He wasn't quite sure if it was an attractive aspect that sucked him in, how Hoseok's jet black hair perfectly complimented his delicate and angel-like features, or how pretty that cute heart-shaped smile was that Yoongi found himself fawning over whenever it made an appearance.

Because Jung Hoseok himself, was quite literally the epitome of pretty.

It seemed so fitting, so peculiarly accurate the aura he constantly radiated out to everyone who crossed paths with him — that Yoongi himself couldn't find a better word to describe him even if he wracked his brain to search for one.

Now this may all seem incredibly stupid to an outsider, or to an observer peeking into the hectic mind of Min Yoongi that was incessantly in shambles no matter what. But ever since that day in art, now three days later, Yoongi wouldn't let himself forget it.

Not even that, he simply couldn't forget it even if he tried.

Couldn't forget the way Hoseok always flashed a pearly white smile in his direction, always managing to upturn his own lips into a soft smile in return that was completely out of his control — with either his cheek muscles having a brain of their own or his conscience simply telling him to do so. Which ever one it was, it was always done intuitively without a second thought, not even regretting the decision a second later as if they were already best friends.

A hidden desire locked away in the deep forbidden crevices of Yoongi's heart.

Because he would be lying if he didn't feel himself being pulled in gravitationally, only reminded of that all too obvious tug the second he stepped foot in their shared classroom as if there was a magical enchanting shield surrounding it — doing it to him on purpose.

But of course, this is real life and that was certainly not the case even if Yoongi himself believed it to be, since that was only an occurrence in fantasy or fairytale films and novels with the plot of having the main characters fall in love solely off of an enchanting potion of amour.