skin and bones | min yoongi | *HIATUS*

11« teach me to love again

My apartment was exactly as I'd left it the day before, cold and empty.
The drafty air wafting in from a half-assed AC system provided the only sign of life or energy in the place, sending a shiver through me despite my being so close to Yoongi.
Since meeting him, the helpless sense of loneliness that emanated from this place seemed to multiply with every passing second. But I couldn't for the life of me figure out why.
"What changed?" I thought aloud, breaking the stiff silence. Yesterday, I'd been so desperate to stay here, to stay where Sam's memory was. Now that dreadful thought absolutely chilled me to the bone.
"What do you mean?"
"This was my home. Now it's like a switch flipped and suddenly it's my own personal hell."
Yoongi took a deep breath, seemingly lost in thought. But when he spoke, his words sounded perfectly calculated, as if he'd rehearsed them to the point he knew them like the back of his hand.
"This was the only place you weren't vulnerable to everyone else. Now you have something you care about again, something you want to be vulnerable to. It's human nature that this isolated little cave you call home wouldn't seem like such a safe place anymore."
The wisdom that always seemed to roll so smoothly off Yoongi's tongue when he spoke was like a drug to me. Despite his condescending nature, he always found a way to make me feel completely justified in my emotions, and it's like he wasn't even trying.
"I guess you'd know that feeling pretty well." I replied quietly.
I met his cold eyes with a sympathetic gaze, but in a split second bowed my head apologetically and changed the subject. God, he was so walled up.
"Let me go find some boxes. I know neither of us wants to be here longer than we have to be." Without waiting for a reply, I scurried off to the storage room in the back and grabbed the first stack of flattened boxes I saw, making a mental effort to avert my eyes from any of my brother's old toys or video games that rested in tens of lonely little boxes.
When I returned to the main room, Yoongi had moved to the kitchen, where he stood admiring my father's China cabinet. It'd been years since anyone opened it; the flawless dishes no doubt had a thick layer of dust masking their former beauty.
I sat the boxes down on the carpet and took a step towards Yoongi.
"They're lovely," he said, his eyes wide in amazement.
"I guess so." For me they were completely normal. I'd never seen such childlike wonder over simple China. It's not like they held any sentimental value, either. I missed my father, but he obviously didn't miss me.
"My brother and I have never had anything so lavish; we've always been more of a simple family." Yoongi explained, his voice still brimming with fascination. "But it's hard not to appreciate such detail."
I chuckled in amusement. "You can have them if you want. I'll only ask that I can keep one teacup."
Yoongi's triangular eyes darted to mine and he shook his head, taking on a sincere tone. "What's mine is yours now, Daniella. We are keeping all of it."
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, dork. Go ahead and start packing it up, then."

The next few hours went by a bit more smoothly than expected, with Yoongi easily picking me up if I ever got too emotional. For the most part, I was fine, but in my inevitable panic, I idiotically saved Sam's bedroom for last.

"One more room to go, and then we're all done," I said, tucking my bangs behind my ear. We'd successfully packed everything in the house into stacks of 'keep' and 'throw away' boxes. With me being the unstable person I was, the 'throw away' stack was significantly larger than the 'keep' one. It would have been even bigger if not for Yoongi's constant, "There's gonna be a day where you wish you still had these photos to show your kids," and, "This book is way too insightful to just throw in the garbage," and most importantly, "If you think I'm letting you get rid of a perfectly good Nintendo 64 while my brother has been looking for one on Ebay for six years, you can go wait in the car Sweetie." It was like the more time I spent with him, the more he became a regular, goofy, easygoing guy. He just happened to have the looks, wisdom, and compassion of a god on the side.

"This last room is Sam's, isn't it?" Yoongi asked, but he knew the answer.
I gripped his hand and pulled him down the hallway, step by agonizing step, tightening my fingers around his as I braced myself.
I pushed the door open, my eyes immediately glueing themselves to the sweatshirt I'd cried into two nights ago, which still lay crumbled on the floor. Yoongi stiffened, but didn't pull his hand away from mine. Instead, he turned to face me, but I couldn't meet his eyes as he spoke.
"Listen Daniella, I don't advise you to keep all of his stuff, alright? Obviously don't throw it all out, but holding onto everything just isn't healthy. Why don't you just pick maybe five main things, and then-"
"There's no way I could keep all of this," I spoke barely above a whisper, my teardrops plummeting to the wooden floor and making little taps that were somehow insignificant and colossal at the same time. "It'd hurt way too much..." I took a deep breath. I just want..."
It sounded childish to say it aloud, so I simply pointed to the shirt on the floor, the world around me blurring as I focused only on the sweatshirt and the taps of my own tears.
But suddenly the warmth orbiting the man in front of me was everywhere, as he enclosed me in the softest embrace I'd ever felt. He ran his fingers gently through my hair as he hummed a lullaby, letting me sob into his jacket without a care in the world.

A week ago, a hug from even Jimin would've sent me running. I didn't understand the idea that someone could care about me in this state of absolute brokenness, of lifelessness. I constantly wondered, who could love a skeleton?
But as I crumbled into Yoongi's arms, reality blurring with my fateful ideas of what could've been, I pondered what made it so easy to hold onto him. I pondered why I'd only met him days ago, yet here he was, caring for me unconditionally even when he hurt just as much as I did.

And in that moment, a wondrous, yet terrifying thought struck my mind.

Yoongi, have we met before?

~~~

{a/n} Hey reader, sorry it took a hot minute to update; I had a short burst of writers block.
But, I'm back, and hopefully better, so I'll keep putting out content and hopefully you'll keep enjoying it!
That's all, and I always appreciate a vote or a comment! Happy reading!