Belong | Min Yoongi

10: Present Day

The constant thrumming of your head forces you awake, making things hazy for you, especially as you try to figure out whose room this is because it definitely isn't yours, nor is it Taehyung's. You check your clothes - all there - and immediately recognize the scent of the jacket you're wrapped in.

Suddenly you're dizzier. You stand up in panic to head out the door, only to trip on a body that's lying on the floor. Taehyung lets out his familiar groan and cusses you out, and as you're about to cuss him back, you feel the bile come up your throat and you start to gag. You shouldn't have stood up that quickly earlier.

You run out the door and thankfully see the bathroom on your left. You're glad you make it to the toilet before your puke explodes all over the floor, and you're left kneeling, holding the sides for dear life as you vomit all the alcohol not absorbed from last night.

You suffer through the pain of gagging it all out but just then, you feel your hair being pulled from your sides until it's being tied into a bun, making it easier for you to do your business. You know from the humming that it's Yoongi next to you, even more when he starts rubbing circles on your back.

You finish shortly after and flush the toilet before he sees it then you immediately stand up, eyes wide and hand covering your mouth.

"Is this your place?" You ask, voice garbled.

"Yeah, unfortunately," he chuckles.

"Why are we here?"

"Taehyung didn't want Mrs. Kim to see him drunk and he didn't know your address so here you are," he smiles. "It's all I can offer but here," he adds, handing you some makeup wipes. "There's the spare toothbrush and the towel is on the bottom shelf. Water and aspirin are on the bedside table. I'll just make lunch, okay?"

All you get to do is nod. He nods in return then heads out to leave you on your own. You're in shock the whole time you clean yourself up. This isn't new territory to either of you but regardless, the fact that you're in your ex-boyfriend's place after a night of drinking makes you just a tad bit worried.

You exit the bathroom and look around Yoongi's apartment. It's nice and simple. Every piece has a purpose. There's still that tinge of coziness, though, like the comfy-looking sofa bed that he seems to have slept on last night.

Your eyes focus on him with his back turned, cooking what smells like French toast and some bacon. He's wearing joggers and an oversized shirt, a usual outfit that always made him feel comfy during the times you'd wrap yourself around him.

"Do you still like having cinnamon on your toast?" He turns around to ask.

You nod in response.

"Okay. Coffee's on the pot. Milk's on the counter," he says. "I'm not sure if you're okay with the brand but it was the only one available at the convenience store."

"Did you just buy it this morning?" You ask as you take a seat on the bar stool to watch him work around the kitchen.

"Yeah."

You're reminded that Yoongi doesn't drink his coffee with milk. He used to stack the fridge with cartons of it in his college apartment because he knew you liked it. You're reminded as well of all the things he knows about you, seeing that your French toast is the only one with cinnamon, and that your maple syrup is placed in a sauce dish because you prefer to dip than have it poured.

The way he paid attention to you was one reason why you fell as hard as you did. He'd remember details and stories. He wouldn't hold your hand when you were seated or in bed because you gesticulate when you speak; he'd held it loosely when you were out since you tend to wander away and look at store windows because you were always curious and always looking "at the pretty things," you'd said, like vintage dresses and flowers.