Bonded: A Min Yoongi x OC Soulmate AU

5

Yoongi lies on a sofa in his bathroom feeling absolutely pitiful. Just like they'd done with JK, they took one of the couches out of the living room and pushed in into his bathroom so that he wouldn't have to walk far to use the bathroom. The amount of water he'd drank was ridiculous and he felt like he had to pee every five minutes.

"Hyung, they checked the footage from the concert and they saw who you bonded with...well her back and side profile. She has brown skin so they're checking all the pit tickets that were bought by foreigners. She was the one that passed you your ring back," Joon says, patting him on the shoulder.

Yoongi just nods and focuses on the water he's sipping. It didn't matter to him what race or gender his soulmate was. He just wanted to feel better at this point. Hopefully they'd find her before she leaves the country. That would be the nail in both their coffins for sure.

He struggles to remember the interaction in his head but all he could remember was how her hand looked. He was near one of the floor lights onstage and the light was so bright that he couldn't see her face but he does remember that she had brown skin and that her nails were manicured and painted a deep purple. Come to think of it, his hand did tingle afterwards, but he brushed it off and kept performing after nodding at the mystery girl. Oh how he wished he'd never worn those rings. He'd be in his studio working on music and not on a couch in his bathroom dying.

Now, even if he lived; he would be linked to some foreign woman that probably didn't even speak Korean.

"Everything will be okay hyung. Just keep drinking water and focus on keeping your breathing even. I know it's scary, but have hope and remember that getting to know a stranger that's literally made for you is way less scary than dying," JK says, cleaning up his empty water bottles for him.

He found it more and more difficult to argue with that as the pressure in his chest made it more and more hard to breathe.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

"So, in the event of my passing, I would like $25,000 to go to each of my siblings and the other $75,000 to go to my mom. I've already listed them all as the beneficiaries on my insurance policy. I would like for my mom to pay off the house, or find somewhere else to live. I want them to be stable. I want the kids to have full access to their money when they turn 18. If you win that lawsuit against that security company, I want you to take $25,000–"

"I won't. I won't benefit from your death Crystal," Seojun interrupts.

"It's what I want Seojun. I-I have to thank you for all that you've done for me. I don't care what you do with it. I just want you to have it. Give it to charity or something," she says, giving him a pleading look.

He gives her a tight lipped smile and nods, indicating he was ready to listen again.

"Give my mom $50,000 and another $25,000 each for the kids. Donate the last $25,000 to charities. Medical research, orphanages, scholarships, whatever. Just do something meaningful with it. My car can go to my sister, Cheyenne. My belongings are to be split between everyone if they want to keep them. As for my funeral...I'd like to be buried in a nice, purple dress—one that would flow of I were to walk. I want my mom to do one of her magical blowouts on my hair one last time a-and I'd like to be buried next to my stepfather. Just like we did with him, I want them to talk about h-happy memories—not about how I was taken from their lives too soon. I-I want them to talk about who I am, not who I was going to b-be," she finishes, a steady flow of tears now streaming down her face.

Seojun takes off his glasses and sets them down on his desk, grabbing tissues for them both. He sits down next to her on the floor and pulls her into a side hug, lettering her sob into his chest. The reality of the situation was painfully sinking in, making him emotional as well. Once her sobs turn into sniffles, Seojun pulls back and hands her some tissues, taking some for himself as well.

"Crystal, you're burning up. All your legal affairs are in order. You should let me take you home so you could get some rest," he insists, helping her to sit on the couch.

Wordlessly, she nods and closes down her laptop, placing it in her case with shaky hands. She finishes off the water bottle she had on the coffee table and tosses it in the trash next to the couch before standing up dizzily.

"I'll get this. You just go grab your keys and lock up your office. I'll have Bora trail us in my car and bring me back here. Take it slow," he says, watching her with weary eyes.

She nods, dabbing at her face with a tissue one more time before throwing it away and slowly leaving the room. She takes baby steps all the way to her office, her good hand clutching her stomach. Nausea was starting to set in again, but she concluded it was probably from fear and anxiety since there wasn't any food around.

The ride to her house was silent, the only sound in the car being her labored breathing.

At this point, she knew she didn't have long. The only thing left to do now was to hope and pray that Bighit would respond in time.