ｗｅ ａｒｅ ａｌｌ ｍａｄ ｈｅｒｅ

thirty one.

A/N: Double update ayeeee *finger guns*

That aside, writing this chapter hurts

How are you all today? I hope you had a great day, or, if you've just started or is in the middle of the day, I hope it's getting better as the hours tick by! I'm so sorry I haven't been replying to comments, work has been unfair to me and just busy, then there's also socializing which drains me a lot these days. I just log in to wattpad to literally publish the stories and then I would be off doing something else.

Also, just putting this here even though it kinda spoils the chapter upfront, since it seems like some of you has expressed that you're not comfortable with the concept.... But honestly if this makes you uncomfortable, again I have to emphasize: I really don't advise you to continue, as my drafts for the future chapters are not exactly sunshine and flowers.... ('；Д；')

WARNING: (verbal) fighting between major characters

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Today, like any other day, Yoongi was catnapping.

You weren't sure if it was an actual word, but you thought it was quite fitting; the way he stretched across the sofa, one arm dangling off the side, his head settled on your lap demanding for gentle brushes of your fingers.

Honestly if he suddenly sprouted cat ears and a tail one day, you wouldn't be surprised.

Your ears picked up sounds from the kitchen which sounded like a generic ringtone, but it was gone in a few seconds, replaced by a low murmur of Seokjin's voice and followed by a soft click of door being shut. You relaxed back onto the chair, careful to not shift Yoongi as he slept.

Like just another day, not all of the boys were in. Seokjin had taken a day off and was diligently working in the kitchen, restocking side dishes and vacuuming the whole house since the early morning. Namjoon had been trying to help, and he was instructed to take care of outdoor works which involved his infamous specialty: destroying things -- which in this particular case, wilted crops and stubborn weeds. As for Yoongi, well, he had just came out from his room in the late afternoon, grumpier than usual with dark circles under his eyes and him yawning every few minutes, so you figured he needed a nap. True enough, as soon as you sat down on the couch with a book, he crawled beside you and blissfully claimed you as his pillow.

Maybe that explained how quiet the house was.

You missed the peaceful silence. Whenever a lot of them gathered in one room these days, an indescribable tension seemed to hung in the air. You didn't really hear much of playful banters anymore; every laugh seemed strained and every expression masked.

You wonder why.

Oh, you know why.

The composer grunted and yawned as he rubbed his eyes sleepily, readjusting his place on your lap. When he found an angle he was satisfied with, your fingers went back to play with his brightly dyed strands of hair. Still as surprisingly silky as ever, you mused in curious amazement.

"You're comfier now," voice groggy with sleep, he remarked bluntly.

"...... I'm going to need more context on that."

Yoongi inhaled deeply and shifted again before he grabbed one of your hand to bring it closer to his chest. Seemingly satisfied, he sighed in contentment and continued, "Your thighs. Super comfy."

You froze, and for some reason you felt a little awkward just sitting there.

"You're saying I'm.... uhm.... fatter?"