Burning Up (M.YG+ P.JM)

Ch 08| Meet you

I began to walk towards the door, or at least, I tried- but found my feet stuck to the ground. My heart was beating wildly, pounding in my ears. I didn't know what to expect, nor did I know what to say to the boy who was behind those doors. I gulped, and decided to wash the dishes first, before going into the said room.

But fate had decided that I wouldn't. I heard timid steps walk up to the third floor, and a girl in a black dress, white linen apron thrown over it. It was that girl. That girl who had warned me of the "monster." Her large eyes fixed on the floor and she bowed slightly.

"M-Mrs. P-Park, asked me t-to c-clean the dishes a-and cook lunch for you and him," She hissed the last part, fear turning into something a little more sinister. She met my gaze. " Why don't you run, oppa, why would you stay here?" 

I clenched my jaw. Here was a person who misjudged that innocent boy who suffered alone, for something he could not control. I inhaled sharply.

"Why would I run when there's nothing to run from?" I asked, and added, "I'll be out to collect lunch, you don't have to bother knocking on your so called devil's door," I spat, and found that I was able to walk, head first and confidently towards the door of room 23.

She stared at me in shock. "Oppa..." she whispered.

"I'm not your oppa," I reminded her coldly, and knocked on the door loudly and clearly.

She quickly turned away, not wanting to see, and I remembered that I had acted like that a few days ago. If I met past me, I would not hesitate to put a knife through his stupid brainless self. 

I heard a slight rustle from inside.

"Come on in eomma, I'm decent," A muffled voice came from the inside. I had to stifle a laugh. He was basically inviting me in, so I turned the knob slowly, nerves beginning to grip my throat again.

"No, Yoongi, don't be a wuss," I mumbled and swung the door open and walked in.

The room was a light cream color, white gauzy drapes half open. There was a flat screen, a gaming console and a laptop in front of a large bed. The size, I wouldn't know, I never paid attention to king size or queen size. But it was at least twice the size of my own.

The doors inside the room were pearly white, and there was a vacuum cleaner in the corner of the room. It was a beautiful room, but I felt sad. So closed off from the world, that regardless of the exertion, he had to clean on his own.

In the middle of the bed, there was a boy, hands clasped over his mouth, eyes wide and teary. Had I done something wrong?

He had light pink hair, yellowish brown eyes and a small frame that drowned in the light yellow t shirt he wore over black shorts. I tried offering him a small smile.

"Hi! You must be Jimin right? I'm Yoongi," I said, bowing a little bit.

He continued to stare. Then he shook himself out of it, fluffy hair moving from side to side as he visibly tried to get a hold of his senses.

"B-but eomma said after lunch?" He mumbled in a daze, which made me smile wider. Mrs.Park was indeed a master of deception.

"Uh-hum," He cleared his throat, sliding off the bed, and approaching me slowly. He was small. Shorter than me even. He rooted himself right in front of me. Little wisps of smoke rose off the ground, and I smelled it again. Burnt meat.

"Nice to meet you Yoongi hyung," He bowed. His voice was sweet. A little sharp and high, but it suited him. He looked much different from the lanky guy with sunken cheeks I had imagined. He seemed unsure of his actions, and he settled to study me from head to toe, scanning every single one of my features intently. His eyes widened a single degree with each feature he took in, which made me slightly uncomfortable, but made me smile all he same.