Pop Star || Yoongi x Reader

15. Queen of Spades

Suga is crouched on the shelf like a princess sitting by her window. He's got most of your bags in his lap - basically all the ones that were lying where he's sitting. His head is in your clothes. And his face is looking up at yours with intense annoyance.

"Don't give me that look. It's your fault you're in this mess in the first place."

His response is to hand your phone over to you. You type in what you just said and press play. He simply scowls at you.

You back away and lean onto the sofa, smirking.

He gets out of the closet, shoving away your bags and packets none too kindly - without realizing that one of them is open and contains something fragile. You don't realize that either, until something crashes onto the floor.

It's your bottle of wine.

Your Chateau D'Yquem 1980 that a fan had gifted you. In Paris. Five years ago.

You let out a tiny scream, hands over your mouth. He's taken aback by both what he's done, and your reaction.

He types in something and raises your phone.

"Was it valuable?"

"I will kill you - do you hate me or something?" you cry out.

He bites his lip and says, "I'm sorry."

Except there is more amusement in his expressions than remorse, and that irritates you.

"It's - fine," you grimace. It's not fine at all.

You stomp back onto the sofa but your leg hurts so you end up dragging yourself and tripping into the sofa. Letting all pretense of etiquette slide, you take the entire cake box in your hand and attack it with a big spoon.

He tiptoes out of the mess of glass and your precious white Bordeaux wine. He sits back on the stool, watching you eat.

"I did my first international tour five years ago," you're eating the cake as you talk, "it wasn't much - honestly I think only London and Toronto had decent ticket sales. We decided to just perform wherever in most cities - Paris was like that. I barely knew anyone. We walked into this little cafe and convinced the owner to let me play outside - you know those open sitting thingies. Later that night, I had this lady come up and give me this bottle. She'd been having a bad day and I had - somehow - managed to make her laugh, even though she didn't understand a word I said. Much like you don't understand a word I'm saying right now," you pause your eating and look up to see Suga nodding his head very seriously.

It's funny. You're irritated but he is funny. Chortling, you return to attacking the cake.

"I think your fans are gone now. You could leave." You wonder if you should add "if you want" at the end as you type this into the translator. You eventually don't.

"Do you need help - with anything?" He looks at your injured leg before looking back into your eyes.

"No. Thanks for offering." It comes out sterner than you intended it to. He simply nods in response, looking at you for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

There's an unfamiliar feeling in your heart as he dresses up and leaves. He pauses at the door and looks at you again.

"I enjoyed your performance," he says. His voice is a little muffled underneath the mask.

You're taken aback - not just at the compliment but at the knowledge that he saw you. You open your mouth to reply but he adds, "Powerpuff girls song you sang better though."

You snort. "Just get out!"

The creases in his eyes let you know that he's grinning under the mask, and you're barely holding back a smile yourself.