Love Affair | kth

8

It sounded weird, coming from him. You could feel the weirdness bursting from his voice, squeamish and strained. You wanted to laugh and cringe at the same time.

"Yeah," you said.

"Mm," he nodded, looking away. He kept nodding. He was staring down and his black bangs had fallen into his eyes. "Cool, cool."

You couldn't help it. You scoffed.

"Don't say it like that," you turned and pushed his shoulder with your fist, harder than you needed to, your face twisted into an exhausted smile. He laughed a little at this.

"What? What are you taking about?" His voice mocked you.

"Everyone's weird about that now."

"Are they?" He questioned genuinely.

"Yes. Me. Me and Jimin. And, since me and ..." the word lodged in your throat and got stuck there. Your body went rigid for a second. Taehyung. You realised that you actually hadn't said his name out loud for a such a long time. This was the first time in weeks that you'd had this opportunity ... you used to say it all the time.

Yoongi was watching you. The uneasiness had washed off his face. Now, his brows creased, seeming almost worried. But, that wasn't like Yoongi. Not often, anyway. Usually, he dropped mere hints of his affection, showing briefly and subtly that he cared about you. This was the only thing that you believed prevented him from having a girlfriend. You'd witnessed plenty of girls from middle school till now, falling over themselves gushing and crushing on Min Yoongi. It was just that he was so quiet and brooding, almost unapproachable. He'd only had one girlfriend so far: it lasted two weeks.

Yoongi was watching you, probably remembering all the times you'd called Taehyung's name before. He was sensitive. He was probably aware of the internal conflict and turmoil going through you right now.

He said for you, "Taehyung?"

You nodded.

"Yeah."

"Taehyung was just here, you know?" It breezed out of his mouth. It made you wonder for a second if he'd been the slightest bit mindful of the situation before he'd said it. But you realised that he had been, because of the way he didn't meet your eyes. Anyone who didn't know Yoongi would have completely missed that hint because of the practiced nonchalance of his voice. He turned back to the piano. "Just now. He's been hanging around the school with his camera, fooling around. I told him he should be practicing -" violin "- but, he wouldn't listen." Yoongi exhaled a mocking scoff, staring off into some space you couldn't see. That subtle, graceful smile ghosted up just face. "He's such a joke, that guy. I don't even know what he's doing now, but it can't be anything more productive or useful than practicing that song I gave him. I mean, don't you think, [...]? He wants to learn the violin but he doesn't want to put work into it.."

Your head was ringing with thoughts, crashing with waves of your confusion and enlightenment. You tried to pull your head together.

Taehyung was going all around the school taking photos ... but he liked the aesthetics of almost every part of the school, so he must be taking a round-trip tour. He even photographed the scratches on the ceiling of an old janitor's closet, even the long-winded bleachers that were shiny and new and seemed plastic. He even photographed classrooms - old, boring classrooms of the classes he hated. You asked him once why he did that. Why he paid so much attention to everything, the things he liked, the things he didn't, the things that didn't even matter. When you asked that, he stared at you for a long moment, confused and judgemental. Then, he broke into an amused, bark-like laugh, "[...], don't be like that. Everything has a story."

Everything has a story.

His voice echoed through your head. His voice, his words - his smile that never once left your hindsight. You'd been seeing his smile in your dreams and your daydreams. For a moment, you forgot you were sitting next to Yoongi at a piano, after school.

Yoongi looked at you. And looked at you. You glanced sharply over at him, gathering your thoughts best you could. You looked away again, but you knew, he was still staring at you like an egghead.

"What are you looking at, punk?" You asked him.

His immediate response was, "I know where Taehyung is."

You nearly choked on - God knows what - but you felt this iciness, numbness, ride suddenly all over every inch of your skin, seeping through to your bones. You turned slowly to look at Yoongi, eyes expressionless, jaw ticking.

"Okay..?" You drawled. You made it sound questioning, like you were laughing at Yoongi. But he was not shaken.

"Don't play coy like that," his words held his usual bite, but his voice was gentle. His eyes filled undoubtedly with worry (whoa) and some other emotion you couldn't comprehend. "[...], I've known you for a long time now, what, how many years? Point being, I know you better than you think. Just go to Taehyung." He said it simply, like he was merely asking you to bring an umbrella because of the weather. He said, "I know Taehyung better than he thinks too - you guys actually have that in common - and Tae.. Tae is ..."

This should have been the climax of his speech, but he suddenly fell silent. He kept staring at you, his eyes so intense. You realised you were holding your breath. Suddenly, he tore his eyes away.

When he looked at you again, he said, low under his breath, "Just trust me on this. Okay?" He swallowed, maybe nervous, maybe frustrated. In all your years of knowing him, Min Yoongi had never been nervous or frustrated to the point that he'd acted like this. "Go to him. I know what I'm seeing ... he's on the roof."

Your mind was racing. Your heartbeat began to speed past the safety limit, paralleling to the anxiety that suddenly cramped up inside you. What the hell was he saying? Go to him? Go to Taehyung? Like, what, go back - be with him again..? You were so confused, but not, wanting to follow Yoongi's advice, but not. You stared hard hard at him, not sure what to say or how to say it.

"Wait.. but -"

"Just go to him!" He was almost shouting now, only he wasn't. He was just so tense and frustrated that it had built in his voice to the point he was raising it. He almost waved his arms in gestures. "[...], trust me on this! Go to him."

And you were off. You stood up in a stumble and ran for the door, letting it fall with a bang behind you. You were dragging your feet, your head a mess, but suddenly you didn't care. You were racing out of the music department, your feet thudding in a fast rhythm that you followed with your heart. You were bolting up the stairs despite your inflexible skinny jeans, despite the break of sweat on your forehead or the ache in your legs.

You were running from the world without looking back. You were running to the High School roof. You were running to Taehyung.