The Silence We Fill | MYG

Chapter Twenty

Please, please listen to the song above. It's beautiful and will help with this chapter.
Song: Clair de Lune
Composer: Claude Debussy 

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The two of us sat outside, the sound of the city silent in our small space that we shared. The space that felt so sacred it made me want to never leave.

Not after everything else that happened.

But he doesn't rush us to leave. Instead, the blue haired boy keeps silent as he waits for me to speak or to show any sign of readiness. Because so far, I have just been sitting there, either staring ahead or at him.

I don't know how much time passes. I never do. But, after what feels like years yet only mere seconds at the same, I finally speak.

"Min, I'm sor-"

"Stop."

My mouth shuts at how sharp the words are, his eyes not even looking at me but instead ahead. At the courtyard before us, the courtyard encased by stone walls with detailing that in other case I may have cried at. And if not at the architecture, then at the beautiful foliage which made the sound of rustling that calmed me down so much. 

But, even despite all that beauty and tranquility, I couldn't appreciate it.

Not like how I usually would.

Because I could only hear Youngseo's and Jisoon's words.

Because I could only see that the six boys were waiting for us, praying I was okay.  

Because I could only feel Min Yoongi's presence.

And maybe, any of them, maybe just of one, shouldn't have mattered. Should have actually helped.

But it only caused stress.

Youngseo and Jisoon. . . would their words be taken seriously? Especially after my reaction?

The six boys. . . were they going to judge me? When they heard I wasn't anything? 

Min Yoongi. . . what did he think about this? And why, why was he so quiet? So painstakingly quiet?

"You're doing it again." Yoongi points out, this time his voice softer. So much so, it sounds gruff from the rumble in the back of his throat. But at the same time, it's so gentle. As if he was talking to a kitten.

"Doing what?" I ask, laughing softly despite nothing being funny. At least, it isn't to the boy next to me who simply continues to watch the garden in front of us.

"Overthinking."

The answer is so simple, it makes me blink.

"Your mind is rushing. And despite it being your own mind, it can't keep up with itself. Because of that, you keep asking questions about every thought that passes by to try and understand at least one thing." Finally, he turns to me, eyes so soft it makes me want to break even if they mean to do the exact opposite. 

I smile softly, shaking my head, "I must be such an easy person to read."

Yoongi simply watches me before giving the smallest of shrugs. "You're not. But, when someone looks, really looks, they can see it all in your eyes."

"My. . . eyes?"

"Your eyes."

No explanation is given and I simply blink, an action that makes him smile every so slightly. It's a little quirk of the lip, a movement that very lightly raises the cheek. It's so small but so meaningful.

"They change, becoming lighter or darker. Sharper or softer. They can be like blades or snow, ready to strike anything or ready to melt under one harsh touch. They can become so bright, shining with courage that wholeheartedly believes in the best. Or they can become so deep, the sorrow evident as if you're begging someone to notice. They're. ." Yoongi seems to realize he's rambling, his sentence drifting off. He looks down, lashes covering so now I can't see his eyes. But for a moment, it doesn't matter. Not when he whispers, "They're beautiful. So truthful." 

My hands grip onto the bench under me, this time being me who needs some type of stability. 

"They're beautiful. So truthful."

My mouth opens, words flourishing within my mind that beg to be told in the open air. Yet, something stops them. Maybe the dryness of my tongue or the sudden constriction of my throat. But I can't reply.

And when I don't Yoongi glances up, his eyes flashing with something I can't recognize. Because it's gone so quickly.

"Sorry, just forget it. I didn't mean to say something that crossed the line. It- Sorry. I apologize. It's just I-"

"Yoongi, shut up."

Yoongi gulps, and I wonder, is his throat just as constricted, tongue just as dry? 

His hands are in his hair now, moving from his blue locks to the back of his ear in panicked anxiety. 

But he shuts up, eyes hiding an emotion I can't pick out.

"I told you I didn't want to forget. Because, you've never done something to hurt me." I whisper before glancing down, the emotion in his eyes too apparent, too great to bear. "What you just said. . . it was the first time someone's said that. Truthfully. Why would I want to forget that?"

Yoongi shifts. "Because, sometimes it hurts more to hear a truthfully good thing than something good with lies."

"Yoongi? I- I would never want to forget anything from these two weeks. Because- this is most free and loved I've felt in such a long time." I murmur, hesitating before looking up again. And I know he can see my shining eyes that only shine because of tears.

Tears that aren't from just sadness. Instead, it's from a flurry of emotions. Emotions that fill me so quickly my mind races. Just like Yoongi said. 

Yoongi takes a deep breath, eyes still holding the wordless emotion that looks so joyful yet so pained. 

"And what if I wanted to forget these two weeks?" He asks suddenly.

So suddenly, it makes my heart drop, makes the knot in my stomach only grow more complicated.

"You'd want to forget?"

"Maybe."

"Then-" I take a deep breath, one that shakes heavily in such a way that I don't feel as if I actually just breathed. But I grin, cheeks feeling wet. "Then you can forget. You can forget every bit of this when we're done. From our first meet, to the nights we played, to the days spent with your brothers. You can forget all of it. And I'll hold all the memories. So maybe, one day, if you want to remember, I'll help you."

Yoongi breaths in too, his just as shallow as mine. "Do you promise?"

"I promise."

End of Chapter Twenty