Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❮眼睛❯
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The next morning, Yoongi was up and ready for the day. Except, not really, because he was more of a mess. His hair was sticking out in all sorts of directions, and his cotton pajamas were intensely wrinkled. Groaning, he arose from his slumber, and looked to his infuriating alarm clock with sleepy half-lidded eyes. Mindlessly, he reached an arm out lazily and attempted to slam the alarm clock to smithereens. Did not go well, arm injured, very horrible.
Eventually he wound up on the floor clutching his hand with a pained expression, after falling out of his bed with a thump. He rolled clumsily over to his closet, and sucked in a deep breath to try to pay no mind to the pain in his hand. He stood, of course after many failed attempts, and sleepily began to look through his clothes for something to wear.
He came upon a white shirt that caught his eye, because of the paintstroke fashion that was the shirt. It looked as though the item had been constructed by a Renaissance painter. Yoongi swiftly unhooked it from the velvety hanger it rested on, and held it in front of him. He took off his pajama shirt and chucked it into a collection of dirty clothes that sat in the corner of his bedroom.
When he was finished with putting the artistic shirt on, he looked to a mirror that hung on his wall, and tried to admire himself. Yoongi's self-confidence wasn't really as high as he wanted it to seem; his confidence was short and small and stout, and often he had troubles seeing himself as attractive in any form or fashion. It just, well, it didn't make sense for him to be attractive. He just simply wasn't-or so he thought.
Never mind that, Yoongi thought, pushing away the insecurities that began to creep menacingly at his brain, like a sly fox waiting to pounce on a stray animal that had lost itself in the dark, dark woods. He removed his pajama bottoms and replaced them with some distressed jeans that contrasted the simple minimalistic shirt that clung loosely to his torso.
Tossed was his discouragement to start the day as he found himself prancing off to his small kitchen round the corner of the hallway with a bit of a smile on his face. His happiness was a result of hearing a small chime of a marimba sounding from his phone, letting him know that, indeed, he got a text! He hadn't bothered to change the ring, since he didn't usually receive messages. But, he supposed this was a special occasion?
Yoongi emphatically slipped his phone from the pocket of his pants with a small sigh, and turned it on.
9:21 a.m. — One message from: Bus Guy Taehyung. "Hi! It's Taehyung, from the bus? Remember me? Of course you do, I'm unforgettable. How are you?"
