the devil skates on thin ice ∙ myg ✓

7 ↝ the black plague

Yoongi begins appearing wherever you go. Like the black plague.

Despite the hostility he had exuded before you departed his apartment after that evening, the guy has been nothing but a picture of perfect juxtaposition over the following two weeks. He wears a grin that is neither snarky, nor cocky, and it haunts your every move. Whether you are standing in line at the campus cafeteria, or rushing down the hallways to make it to training after one of your classes, or shopping at the nearby supermarket that is frequented by all of the campus residents for snacks. No matter the location, the bane of your existence has managed to announce his passing presence through a peripheral glimpse of a peculiar curve of lips. A smile that is so fleeting, so sincere, that you find yourself wondering for hours afterwards if you had merely imagined it, or even falsely fantasised that he was there in the first place.

So really, at this point, you are reasonably terrified that you might wake up in the middle of the night due to the demands of your bladder, and find Min Yoongi standing beside your bed, grinning down at you like an ultimately more horrifying remake of Paranormal Activity.

But although he has been popping in and out of existence like a spectre, and your guard is now automatically activated the instant you leave your flat, you foolishly allow yourself a moment of relaxation in a situation deemed high risk. That is, in public, as you tiredly stroll from one of your classes to the stadium.

Night-time has begun to stretch across the sky in a pink and orange sunset, looking like smears of bleeding watercolour. A threat of clouds dwells in the distant horizon, opposite to the direction that you walk, hinting at a late-night storm that crackles with lightning and draws goosebumps along your arms. Not many students are out. Those who are seem to be heading home from their training, or speedily rushing along to their evening lectures. At this time of day on a Friday, the chances of the rink being empty and you being able to get in without a booking slip tends to be high, and so you decided to save time by skipping out on stopping by the office to collect one altogether.

After a strenuous afternoon of classes, you are too exhausted to second-guess the nearing tap-tap of sneakers against the pavement. It sounds similar to a light jog, as though the person is warming down from their afternoon exercise, or perhaps heating themselves up to evade the chilly air. They are quick to gain on you with the slow trudge that you currently enact, and you mentally anticipate the mild shock that will fizzle through your blood at the sudden intrusion of a being in your periphery; the slight breeze that will come with their passing by...

Except they never do.

"Hey, ___!"

A shriek of surprise involuntarily escapes your lungs, and you are certain that your soul has been startled out of your body. "What the fuck?!"

"Normally, people say hello back," Yoongi, who has materialised beside you, sniffs wetly. His breath comes out slightly ragged, concluding that he is the mystery jogger, much to your utter displeasure. "Or how are you?"

You purposefully take a step to the side, putting distance between your parka-bundled, sports-bag-loaded bodies, and venomously bite back with, "No, I genuinely mean what the fuck. Were you hoping for me to have a heart attack?!" With that said, you continue to walk ahead, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. Yoongi, like a puppy waiting for a scratch behind its ear, eagerly follows. You whip your head to the side and glare at him. "Stop. Why are you walking with me? Go away."

He sniffs again, ignoring your demand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Besides, I'm not walking with you. I just happen to be walking beside you since we're both going in the same direction."

"You literally jogged to catch up to me," you deadpan, quickening your pace and praying that he gets the message loud and clear. But Yoongi, as always, is not one to accept defeat so easily.