ONESHOTS

in paris with you | myg

word count: just a little over 10k

recommended listening: 'imaginary numbers' (extended play) by the maine

premise: yoongi runs away from love, only to end up in the city that embodies it.

pairing: idol!yoongi x reader (pre-romance)

inspiration: the poem 'in paris with you' by james fenton

── ❝Act I | Scene One | Disparu❞ ──

High ceilings always gave Yoongi a slight sense of anxiety.

There was so much dead, empty space, which served no purpose other than to house air. What was the point?

The room he was currently in could have easily been split in two, he thought to himself as he lay, staring up at the ceiling that seemed so far away from him now. One leg was hanging off the bed, bent at the knee, dangling as if there was a breeze running through the room.

There wasn't.

Not through his choice, mind you, but because the windows simply didn't open. They had been nailed shut seemingly many years ago, preventing anyone from escaping, and Yoongi was sure that must have been a fire safety hazard.

Still, he chose to stay put.

He wouldn't really care right now if the whole entire place went up in flames.

If anything, it might do it some good.

The boxy room was hastily painted beige, stained slightly from cigarette tar and god knows whatever else the walls had been exposed to over the years. He half thought that he'd be in for a treat if the walls could talk. Upon further consideration, he decided that it was probably best that he didn't know the secrets of the room - not if he wanted to have a peaceful night's sleep.

There was a distinct scent in the air, that latched itself onto everything that came into contact with it. Slightly musty and a little bit damp, he was sure that he must have smelt like shit to anyone he walked past. It was mildly embarrassing, but he also figured that they were people he would never see ever again. There was no point in really getting concerned over it.

Concern.

A word that had been dappled in Yoongi's mind for at least a week now since the news got out.

He had never been one for making public statements, or even sharing details of his private life. For the most part, there was nothing to be reported. As a lonesome soul, who found solace in his music and didn't depend on others for his happiness, falling in love wasn't on his to-do list. Sure, he had dreams of a family and a domestic life that would make even the happiest couples green with envy, but he didn't expect it to fall into his lap when it did.

It was tumultuous, like a frantic storm breaking on a summer's day. One moment he was helping a backing vocalist figure out how her vocals would best sound against an acoustic melody, and the next he was listening to her demos whenever he got the chance. Even the songs he wasn't producing, he gave a helpful ear to, just in case she wanted a little extra help. For her, he was always happy to oblige.

The rumours began shortly afterwards. Leaked information from staff, candid pictures of them grabbing coffee, CCTV sold to media outlets of her entering his apartment complex; the evidence was damning. Management wasn't happy, but it could have been worse. At least it was with someone in-house and, should the public reaction be good, it would help to promote her debut single.

Slowly though, as with all good things, it had to come to an end.

She was getting busy and Yoongi, well, Yoongi always was busy. He and his band had a tour cycle to prepare for, and she was debuting earlier than planned due to increased public interest around her.