𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 OS

1 (eng)

I saw you there, while every single beat of the song you were dancing to bounced on your body, and every limb of yours moved in time to the music.

I walked to Camberwell, one of the most skid rows of London, just to see you.

In all honesty, I didn't care about dance that much.
Hell, I'm incredibly lazy.
I prefer by far classical music.

Anyway, my friends talked a lot about you and driven by who knows what I walked trough that dark streets that I barely knew.

I've lived in London for a year and a half.
A year and a half full of reproaches by my family, that stopped considering me as their son in the very moment I walked out of the house looking for luck in London.

A year and a half of delusions, since the luck that I wanted so bad slipped out of my pale hands. Instead, I fell in the darkest side of my soul.

They were rare, the days where I was not drunk, or high. And they were rare as well, the days where I could proudly tell I found a job, or not attempted suicide.

But I'll he bragging about that day for the rest of my life.

That day, or rather, that night, was worth all the delusions, all the reproaches and all the nights spent drinking and crying.

And without you, Hoseok, that night would've been just like the others.
A night full of people.
Stinky, noisy people.
I hated them.
But I didn't hate you. I never did.

From the very first moment I saw you I respected you, for the passion you put  in what you were doing, for the smile you had even when your legs where trembling from the effort.

You entered the pub with your friends, I did the same.
Unfortunately, one of the friends that brought me there, knew you.
You two were friends.
He hugged you and introduced me to you.

"Hoseok, he is Yoongi. Usually he doesn't give a fuck about anything at all, but he liked you."

"The performance. I liked the performance."

You shook my hand, smiling.

We sat at the same table with your friends, and somehow, we were left alone.

Just the two of us, each one right in front of the other.
You asked me about me, about my life, why was I in London.

And I... hell, I told you everything.
I don't know why, but I did.
I never talk about myself with anyone.
Noone, never.
However with you it was different.
I wanted you to know.
I wanted your eyes to know.

I wanted your heart to know what I was going trough, so I told you everything.
And you sat there, listening to every single word I said, without blinking an eye, always looking at me, even when you brought the beer closer to your mouth to drink.

And I looked forward to know you better, I wanted to. Since you listened to me so well, I wanted to return the favor.

But you suddenly stood up. You were probably drunk, because you took my hand and you took me were all the other people were, dancing.

"Wanna dance with me?"

I denied with my head, but you insisted, saying that I would've liked it.
Well, I still hate dancing, but hell if I loved watching you do that.
You were amazing at it.
Fast, but precise. Flawless.

You looked like one of those people that didn't care about tomorrow, that lived their life happily, but when it came to dancing, you suddenly became serious.

You did the same with sex.

And I don't know if you do it the same way with everyone, but you did it with me.
You loved doing it in the silence of your room.
You loved hearing only our voices, calling each other, breatheless.

You loved holding me so tight that I had bruised on my pale skin the day after, but I let you do that.

I loved letting you do what you wanted in bed, it was satisfying, always.

Serious while dancing and having sex.
This is who you were.

And that night, when you invited me to dance with you, you held me tight to your burning body.
Usually I would've gone crazy, I would've literally screamed.
But in that moment, I loved it.

You guided my movements, and I let you guide me, or rather, command me.

I'll be sincere, I tried to kiss you.
I mean, I was letting you know that you could kiss me, that I would've like it.
But you didn't, you just wanted to dance with me, after all.

Later on, I thought about it.
About how it would've been.
I looked like a fucking teenager, but I couldn't get it out of my head.
I only accomplished to it a few nights later, when I finally could see you again.

You were dancing again, that night,  in the same parking of that very pub, in the same neighborhood.
I looked at you again.
I would've liked to do it for the rest of my life.
You saw me too, and you started to move your body more sensually, with more passion.

Then it was all the same, just like the last time we seen each other.
We drank and we danced together.

Until the kiss, in a desolate street, outside the pub.

It was a dirty wall in a dirty neighborhood that assisted, not a flowery meadow or a nice soft bed in a nice house.
But I liked it that way. Desperate and needy.

Desperate like me.
Needy like you.

I love you Hoseok.
I always did, I do it and I always will, even now that I will go who knows where.

London was unfaithful to us.
However, I don't blame her for killing you, or the drug dealers who did.
It was my fault.
I didn't know how to protect you, how could I?
Precious as you were, I had to imagine it.

I don't know what awaits me after this.
After these pills, after these syringes, after this poison that I ingested.
I don't believe in the afterlife, and maybe I'm wrong, because now I need it.
I need the security of finding you there waiting for me, and maybe ready to dance for me.

These are my last words, and I will use them wisely.
I will always thank London for bringing us together, and I will always love you for giving me hope.
You danced for me when I asked you, you always loved me without asking for anything in return.
I couldn't give you so much, and still I can't.

The only thing I can give you is my life.
I'm taking it off, not just because I can't hold it anymore, but because I hope that maybe, in another life, my breath will be yours, and you'll live with my borrowed soul.

I've endured, hid and killed the pain these months, but I can't.
I can't do it anymore, Hoseok.
Please forgive me ..
Accept this last gift of mine, please.

I have no more tears to cry, my vision is blurred.
I have no more words to write, my hands freeze.
I have no more thoughts to think, my brain stops working.
I have no more feelings to feel, my heart stops beating.