"And suddenly, all the love songs were about you..."
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{1st place in BTSAIRPLANEPT2AWARDS-Solo Yoongi}
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Rina is a failed author who has a special liking toward romance novels, especially one called Peppermint. When her wealthy roommate hands her...
I couldn't sleep last night. Maybe Yoongi's insomnia has rubbed off on me. Or maybe, it was the overwhelming discussion that I shared with him. Or, most likely, it was the realization of my unexpected new closeness with the jerk himself.
Peppermint would've been nice to lull me to bed, but alas, I've kindly lended it to someone who needs it more than me.
I wonder what went through his mind last night.
But more importantly, I'm extremely tired.
Since buying my own coffee on the company card isn't exactly acceptable, I decided to go without. That is, until I fell asleep at the reception desk, for 2 hours.
What awoke me was a gentle tap on my shoulder. Yoongi. He was just arriving—coat still on, eyes still droopy from the predictable lack of slumber. His normal captivating-self.
And somehow, naturally, I've ended up slouched in his rolly chair, sharing his infamous cup of joe as he tinkers with new melodies.
Wiping the back of my wrist across my lips, to gather any extra dribbles, I reach out the cup, Yoongi nonchalantly grabbing it from his position in front of the piano.
He takes a long sip, tilting his head back slightly, allowing his one hand to persist its slow frolic on the white and black keys.
When he hands it back, without a glance in my direction, I realize something as I scan over the cup.
Pink.
A light, sheer, glossy pink glimmers in the shape of a ring around the lid opening.
My lipgloss.
I look up to the focused producer who keeps pressing the same note on a piano key.
And then I see it. That same pinky gloss, just barely shimmering across his lower lip.
So cute.
It looks better on him.
Yoongi eventually looks up at me, continuing to press that one note, eyes squinting and focused, trying to decide whether or not this note belongs in the tune. Then he recognizes my stare. A brow rises up.
I can't help but prolong my gawk, as I now have a better angle of those glossy lips—that most likely taste similarly to my own. Watermelon. Probably with a hint of coffee as well.
We both match today. Similar glasses, identical purple eye-bags, coffee breath, and now lipgloss.
A glint of light perfectly glares onto that bottom lip, tracing its length in correlation to his movements.
I take another sip. This time, the bitterness truly kicks in, distracting my attention from the confused little fella and his glistening lips.
Yuck. Why am I still drinking this again?
"How come you never get cream or sugar?" The question comes out sort of insulting, but I am a bit curious. My tongue licks a bitter drop that has settled into the corner of my mouth.
Yoongi shrugs, barely jutting out his lower lip, the gloss twinkling in response.
"It's sugary."
That's the point.
"You don't like sweet things?"
He quickly purses his pretty lips. Receding the shimmer from view, he tips his head side to side in thought, yet never taking away his distracted fixation on the piano before him. After a moment of deliberation, he responds lowly.
"I like you."
Oops.
A smirk develops on my face, holding back a small chuckle, as well as the redness of blushing.
His eyes shoot up to the wall, wider than ever. The unfinished melody pauses briefly and I see his jaw clench and un-clench as he contemplates the eradication of that statement.
He didn't mean that surely.
"I-I mean, you're sweet, nice. Uh, good company," he stutters, a certain flusteredness in his voice that I'm hearing for the first time ever. His dewey cheeks beginning to match the shiny shade of his lips as he begins to fiddle with different piano keys again.
Friend zoned.
But what comes out of your mouth, is even more appalling, to the both of us. Because I don't contradict it, nor try to furnish the factuality.
It's blatant and true and at the same time, super awkward.
"I like you too."
The music stops, completely. And he finally looks at me.
Then, with me starting first, the silence in the studio is interrupted by ongoing silly laughter.
Maybe it's too much coffee.
Or maybe, most likely, we both like each other.
It's definitely the coffee.
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