My breath caught in my throat as he leaned forward, his moonlight hair mussed and button-down shirt rumpled. He was close enough that I felt his hot breath on my skin, close enough that I could touch him if I moved the slightest bit.
❝How l...
For a split moment, I was a good amount alarmed right before remembering that Yoongi was supposed to let himself inside whenever he was done with his work at the station. I glanced at the time on my nightstand, seeing the white figures illuminated in the dark as they read 3:52 a.m.
He was getting here at 3:52 in the morning?
Suddenly, the little progress I thought I had made was no progress at all in the bigger picture because it meant things at the station were far too serious for me to think I could actually help out. He'd still be getting only a few hours of sleep because I doubted he wouldn't clock in at the station all bright and early.
But then again, I argued with myself, I did what I could. At least he had a place nearby now.
Right?
I didn't get to think too much on it because it wasn't even a moment later that I slipped back into sleep.
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Needless to say, he wasn't there in the morning.
The bed in his room was as perfectly made as it had been the night before and the only sign someone had been there was the toothbrush and toothpaste by the sink that I noticed when I went to check if there were enough towels in the bathroom.
And of course, the note on the bed.
Will be back at around eight with my stuff, it read. And then, scribbled below that was a somewhat sweet-sounding Thank you.
That made my lips turn up in a soft smile. So he could be sweet.
Wandering out of the room, I thought about what to do for the day. There weren't any classes for me until three today—I could go to campus. It'd been a while since I'd seen my friends and I had to admit, I missed Jinae as well. I doubted we'd get to spend much time doing nothing because she was studying, but that didn't matter. A quick meet up would suffice.
Strolling over to the kitchen, I opened the fridge to grab a quick bite before I left and just found myself staring at how empty it was inside.
Oh damn.
It looked like a Cafe-Breakfast Day for me today as well.
Which reminded me, did he have dinner? Last night when he came in at 3:53 a.m, would he have eaten anything? There was that coffee shop we'd grabbed drinks from on the way to the station, yes, but would he have gone there?
I felt ashamed for not have even thinking about it.
What kind of a host was I? Jesus, not a great one, that was for sure.
