{ Sequel to Room 103 }
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Yoongi has moved onto college while Taehyung finishes his last year of high school. The couple are happy till a new dorm mate arrives.
Drama, heartaches, secrets and lies.
Will their relationship still be the same?
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A...
Hi, okay so I haven't updated this book in a very, very long time. (Sorry about that 😅) but here is a new chapter for my lovely readers, sorry that there's not much really goes on in it.
I'm hoping to start getting back into my older stories and getting them finished and updated more often but I've recently been trying to write more on my other account (I haven't posted anything on it yet but I will let yous know when I do.) Its not a fandom account, all the work on it will come solely from my imagination which I'm really excited about.
Thank you to everyone who has been supporting and reading my stories, I really, really appreciate it. 💗💗
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Taehyung's POV
The next morning, I wake to find my bed empty. Yoongi was nowhere in sight which caused me to frown with sadness. However, I notice a small white note sitting by my bedside immediately causing me to snatch it up and see my name scribbled on the front in Yoongi's handwriting.
I open it to see that he had to leave early this morning due to family matters. I felt worried and concern for him, not knowing exactly what it is that was wrong, if whoever it was in his family were okay or not but I knew better than to ask Yoongi. After all, he would just brush it off with a simple reply, refusing to talk about his family and such.
Sighing, I get out of bed and decide on taking a shower to wash away the sweat and stench of sex that lingered over my body. I quickly strip my bed first, making sure to throw the sheets into the washing machine before returning to my room to open a window. I allow the cold crisp wind to invade the confined room, hoping it might air out the place a little. I take a fraction of a second to close over my eyes and enjoy the sweet fresh air as it whisks past my skin before returning to my formalities. I pick up my phone while toddling into the bathroom for a shower. As I do so, I click call on a certain someone's contact information, who has a lot of explaining to do.
I lift the device to my ear lobe, listening closely to the repetitive ringing as I await for the other to pick up. "Hello?" A groggy and equally hungover voice grumbles into the phone, making me grimace at how deathly ill he sounds. "You sound like a 90 year old woman that's been smoking 10 packets a day."
Jimin winces at my tone, low sounds of his whining coming through the other end of the line. "Stop! Please! No more!" He cries out huskily, no doubt rubbing his temple to ease the hangover headache.
"No," I state firmly, "you sir, have a lot of explaining to do, so meet me in 10 at the coffee shop that's just down the street from the school." I don't give him time to reply back before I hang up on him. 'That'll teach him not to get steaming drunk next time!' I grumpily thought while nodding in agreement to my own opinion.
