This chapter is meant for older audiences because of sexual content. Please, minors, do not interact. You can read it until Yun's POV ends. If you do not wish to read any sexual content you can start reading again when you see the 🏳️ flag.
I really don't write any smut, so this is my first attempt (and I don't guarantee there will be more. Like I said in the synopsis of this story, this is not a smutty book).
Don't forget to look at the pic in the end. If you are part of the mature audience, you'll understand it right away.
Also, I didn't have time to review this, so there might be grammar mistakes in there.
That being said, I hope you enjoy.
✨YUN✨
Yoongi looked alarmed when he found me right after Young-Hee left my apartment, but when I calmed down and got up as soon as my legs stopped shaking, he made sure to make himself busy by washing the dishes while I sat in the kitchen stool.
When I moved to the living room, and he suddenly decided to make sure the coffee table was clean and that all my cushions were nice and fluffy. At some point, he approached the window and decided to examine the curtain between his fingers.
He didn't seem to be the kind to fuss over you, but he certainly was the hovering type.
All that considered, I shouldn't have been surprised when I felt him draping a comforter around my shoulders. Only when my muscles relaxed I noticed my arms were wrapped around myself, an instinctual move to make myself feel safe again and bring more warmth back.
A small smile tugged at my lips when I looked at him over my shoulder. A silent thank you for the gesture as I watched him move to sit next to me on the couch.
Time passed, and I felt his eyes on me from time to time, observing quietly, ready to read any of my queues.
My smile slowly faded away.
If I thought back on what happened just an hour ago, I'd be able to hear that voice clear as day, like a lost echo. Something I wasn't supposed to witness.
I've read once that whatever you see, hear, smell, or taste during an event that is particularly shocking will most probably be forever imprinted in your mind. I knew it was real through my own experiences as an emergency doctor.
The sight of certain injuries and, above all, the smell of blood would never really leave me.
Your brain has a way of remembering scarring moments like that.
I grabbed the edges of the comforter to bring it closer to my body, and looked over my shoulder at Yoongi, trying to focus on something that wouldn't pull me back into what that horrible voice had whispered to me.
This time, he wasn't looking at me from the corner of his eye.
His gaze was focused on an object in his hands. The light reflected off the metallic surface and shone directly into my eyes. His fingers turned it over and over, his thumb brushing against the surface, tracing a pattern.
With a quick flick of his wrist, the lid opened and it produced a small flame that was soon extinguished when he used his index finger to close it. He repeated the same gesture three times over, and sighed deeply when the dancing glow of the small flame was doused for the third time.
He seemed oddly intrigued by the small lighter.
"Can I see it?" I asked, curious and grateful to have something to occupy my mind with for the moment.
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