Colder Kitten : myg ✔️

Part 5

Yoongi waited for her at the train station again the next day. He was a little more obvious than the day before, not bothering to make it look like he was accidentally running into her this time. He was sitting on a bench outside the station and he smelled her before he saw her, her sweet, woodsy scent floating toward him on the breeze. She emerged, headphones trailing down from under his black beanie which she was wearing again. He smiled seeing her in his hat and looked her up and down, taking in the practical boots she was wearing with ripped black leggings under a tight mini skirt and an off the shoulder T-shirt. Her purple hair hung over her shoulders in two long braids from beneath his hat and he almost forgot to get up and as she walked past him. He quickly stood and fell into step next to her and she glanced over, pulling her ear buds out.

"Hey," she greeted simply as she stuffed the cord into her pocket. He watched, smiling softly to himself at the fact that she had bothered to turn off her music to walk with him.

"So, uh...you excited for tonight?" He asked lamely, feeling like he should make conversation since she had bothered to put her headphones away.

"Why?" She asked, glancing at him in confusion.

"Saturday is the busiest night, you're gonna be slammed at the bar - dinner and late shift will be crazy," he said, shrugging.

"Well you better play something good for me to make it suck less then," she joked, chuckling darkly. They walked in silence the rest of the way and straight to the bar once they arrived. She went right around behind it and poured him his whiskey. He sipped it, considering her as she booted up the computer for orders and moved abound behind the bar getting things ready for the night. He set his glass down and she turned to refill it but he covered it with his hand, making her stop and look up at him questioningly.

"What would you like to hear?" He asked softly, his deep voice serious. She froze with her hand around the neck of the bottle and blinked at him. His dark eyes examined her expression, her lips parted slightly in surprise and the ordinarily annoyed look she had for him slipped from her features to reveal a beautiful innocence. He could see in this moment that she was truly was younger than him, not having noticed through her hardened exterior when they met.

"Know anything by Debussy?" She asked him shyly. He only smirked in response, the playful glint returning to his eyes and he walked away, leaving his glass on the bar as he headed for the piano.

-

You blinked after the cat in confusion as you watched his back retreat toward his post. Why did he ask you that? You were distracted as Tae hurried in looking slightly disheveled as he straightened his clothes and combed his fingers through his hair.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, hurrying around behind the counter next to you as the clock struck five. "Hobi has been complaining about me being gone every night and...it took a long time to say goodbye today," he said, giggling.

"So is that how you got this then?" You asked, poking a dark bruise on the side of his neck. His eyes widened and he slapped a hand to his neck.

"Shit," he mumbled peering at himself in the mirror behind the bar. You just giggled at him as he blinked at you in shock as orders started to come in. "He never marks me...he must really be missing me," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips at the thought.

"Of course he does puppy, who wouldn't miss that sweet ass," you said, reaching down to pinch his round cheek as you headed over to look at the order, making him jump and gasp.

"Y/n!" He whined, slapping his hand to rub himself where you had pinched and blushing deeply, but smiling with a bit of pride.

At about five minutes to eight you smiled softly to yourself as you heard Yoongi begin to play one of your favorite pieces, the third movement of Debussy's Suite Bergamasque. You stopped what you were doing to pause and appreciate the music while you could before he switched songs. He played it beautifully, his large but delicate hands perfectly suited for the sleepy, lingering melody. You stood, staring at his back as he played, his shoulders shifting beneath his fitted black button up as the music came out of him with feeling. Your hand slid to your chest, gripping the neck line of your shirt. Debussy was your favorite composer because his music never failed to make you feel something. The song ended and he allowed the last notes to linger, his foot pressing on the pedal until the last tendrils of sound had faded away. Then he stood and turned, shoving his hands into his pockets and heading for the bar. You blinked in surprise, suddenly realizing he had played the whole piece - the first time he had played a whole piece in the three days since you had met him. He was watching his feet as he crossed the room and then his eyes flickered up to yours when he was half way to you. He staggered a step when your eyes met and you blinked and looked quickly away, swallowing hard as you grabbed his glass and poured him a whiskey. You set it on the bar and stood there, looking down at your hands pressed to the wood as he came up. You saw his pale hand reach out and pick up the glass and you raised your eyes to his, finding him watching you uncertainly over the glass as he sipped it.