Gold: Kim Taehyung ✓

Abalone

"Aaaah."

The groan tumbled from my lips without my ever having intended it to. It was dim, in the bar, musty, and the counter was sticky, but the liquor was strong, and that was what I needed. Intoxication and bar staff that minded their own business. That was why I came here.

Worldlessly, I held up my whiskey glass, the ice clinking around. The barkeep, who I also happened to know personally, rolled his eyes, taking it and topping my drink off, a shot of whiskey and a shot of coke. Sweet, but not enough to mask the burn, the way he knew I liked it. He returned my smile with a small one of his own, then returned to polishing glasses.

My friendship with Yoongi worked because we didn't pry too much. We'd talk, laugh, exchange off-colour jokes. When I was sober, he'd help me get drunk, if I wanted. When I was drunk, he'd quietly keep an eye on me. When I needed it, he knew what to say. He was a man of few words, but those words were always well timed and fitted the situation.

This was not one of those times, however. This was the former- an occasion where I would just drink, listening to the hum of low conversations elsewhere in the bar. Sometimes he'd ask how my day was. Sometimes I'd ask about his. Not today.

Today, I'd walked in and sat down, and he'd just quietly poured me a drink.

I'd spent a very long day at my very stressful job feeling very, very down. My boss was a nightmare, my coworkers were awful, and the days were long and dreary. Dull. Boring.

But, I had to pay the bills, so this is where I was. This was what I, a twenty-five year old woman, wound up having gone through school and university for. To land a desk job I hated, working nine to fives every day to make ends meet. Just to afford the shitty apartment in a shitty neighbourhood to complete my shitty life.

I felt like a waste of space, so I drank. It was a habit I'd developed as something to do, a way to make me feel better, but it didn't really help all that much. It was really more of an excuse to be here, rather than in my apartment, alone. Some nights I'd come here and nurse the same drink all night, just distracting Yoongi from his work. Others, nothing I'd say would make a lick of sense, because I'd be far too intoxicated. Either way, it saved me staring at those damp-ridden walls all night.

"Ay, Yoongs..." I mumbled, swilling the liquid in my glass, chin on my other palm. He looked around at me with a risen eyebrow. "I'm a mess. Sorry."

He put down the glass and rag, and then leaned on the counter beside me. "You are." He was smirking, slightly. "What else is new? You give us business."

I huffed a small, messy laugh. "Mean."

He just grinned, then turned, grabbing me a glass of water. "You oughta start sobering up. Closing time's coming."

I did as I was told, and he cleared my other glass as I sipped the water. "You don't gotta take care of me, y'know?"

He rolled his eyes. "You don't give me much choice. Get a boyfriend."

"Get a girlfriend." I returned, with a sigh, somewhat snarky. He folded his arms.

"I have a girlfriend."

"Who, your pillow?" I took another swig of water. He grinned again.

"No, actually. My left hand." I snorted at that, nearly choking on my water. "She knows just how I like it."

"You're disgusting." I laughed. He shook his head.

"Hilarious." He corrected, and I just shook my head, standing up. I felt a little better. I hadn't been that drunk to begin with. I grabbed my purse, and my jacket. He seemed concerned. "Want me to call you a taxi?"