just 'buddies' ❧

◌ one ◌

Taehyung's PoV;

"Not only were you twenty minutes late this morning, you just sold a wedding bouquet to an everyday customer!" She seethed.

"I-"

"Just because your mother owns this place, doesn't mean that you're invincible from punishment, young man!" She pointed her old, wrinkly finger at me.

It took every single ounce of me not to roll my eyes and walk out, instead I stood there, sat on the crickety wooden stool, with an oldish woman telling me off.

Possibly not the best Monday.

And in all fairness, I was actually fifteen minutes late. It wasn't my fault that the bus was late.

And by late, I mean that I missed the first bus because I slept in, the next bus was later than I expected and I forgot that the florists was in fact not two minutes away, but ten.

"Taehy-"

"Yujin, what does seem to be the matter?" My mother said, appearing through the front door. A new watering can hung from her fingers, and a shopping bag slung from her forearm.

Offering to take the bag, I stood up and was in the process of taking it off of her.

"Taehyung sold one of the wedding bouquets to an everyday customer!" Yujin scowled.

I turned to my mother, ready to spit an excuse when Yujin spoke once again.

"And he was tardy three times last week!" 

This time, I really did roll my eyes. 

And so, I earned a slap from mother. 

Stunned, I held my palm to the stinging mark that tantalized my cheek. Biting my tongue to prevent profanities from spilling out, I dropped her shopping bag at my feet. 

"Taehyung!"

I'd never been slapped before.

Ignoring her, I slung on my jacket and headed out of the door. Rain battered my head and hair, soaking my t-shirt until it clung to my skin, transparent, and turning my light blue jeans navy.

I understand that this upcoming wedding is stressful - but surely one bouquet wouldn't matter too much?! 

It had like four flowers in, why would that be so important? I really do doubt that it would've been a statement piece.

Turning my phone off, after texting Yoongi, to ignore my mother's persistent calling, I changed my direction and headed to Yoongi's house. Hopefully he had some hot chocolate or maybe something sweet, so that I could eat my feelings and rant over junk food.

-------------------------------------------------------

Now sniffling from the cold, I held my sleeve to my face to cover my red Rudolph-like nose, knocking on the door with the other hand.

I stomped on the floor in an attempt to keep myself warm (trying to stop anymore heat from escaping) as I willed Yoongi to be quicker opening the door.

I raised my hand to knock again, when it swung open.

A guy, not Yoongi, had opened the door. Wet black hair stuck to his forehead, water droplets dripping down his exposed torso (the skin was decorated with black roses, I had to literally hold myself back from licking his skin), making their way down perfectly sculpted abs before disappearing behind a crimson towel, his hand holding the knot of it as if it was a belt buckle - my eyes locked onto how pretty his fingers were, embellished with a couple of shiny rings.