VIRTUOSO - A MYG Story

ACCELERANDO

ACCELERANDO

Accelerating

The bright scent of fresh tangerines hit my nose as I rounded the corner of the hall. Yoongi was standing inside the rehearsal room, right in the middle of the floor, facing the covered windows.

"Hey," I whispered, trying not to startle him.

Yoongi turned halfway towards me, popping a slice of tangerine into his mouth then held out a piece for me to take from his fingers using my teeth.

His smile was so gentle and inviting. Yoongi always brought such a wonderful sense of calm to me.

I ran my fingertips down his spine as he looked back towards the windows.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked quietly, leaning my head on his shoulder as I continued to trace shapes all over his lower back.

"This house used to be such a happy place. My brother and I grew up here, so we ran through this house, barefoot, having sword fights and ninja battles right over there..." he trailed off, his eyes turning towards the hallway outside the rehearsal room doorway.

I slid my hand up his back and delicately ran his hair between my fingers.

"It could be a happy place again. Maybe it's time to let some light in here," I let my fingers slip from his hair and moved past him towards the windows, "Why do you have all of these thick, dark curtains anyway?"

I reached for the thick, dark blue curtains and started to open them, but Yoongi stepped forward, gently grabbing my wrist to stop me.

I turned to look in his eyes, slightly lowering my brow in question.

His hand loosened its grip around my wrist and slid down to slide his fingers in between mine.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "Come here."

Yoongi led me over to the couch, sitting down in the corner with an elbow on the armrest. I leaned my head against his chest, cradled across his lap, and his fingers gently swept my hair back as he spoke.

"This was my mom's music room... "

I locked my fingers with his and kissed the back of his hand as he continued.

"She always loved the light. She loved the big open windows and how they made it feel like she was playing her piano outside."

"The way you speak about her, it sounds like she's passed," I squeezed his hand and looked up at him.

"She may as well be. She left and never looked back. I'll never understand it."

I could tell how bitter he was. Yoongi had a lot of resentment built up inside him, and he was deeply hurt and angry about his mother.

"Hobi mentioned to me that she was a pianist, too. Did she teach you how to play?"

"Yes. My brother, too."

I could tell by the tone in his voice that these were not happy memories.

"Does your brother still play?" I asked, taking advantage of his rare openness. I had thought that talking might bring him some relief.