Young and Free | BTS [√]

ni ju ni

Would sleep make things better?

Would time make it better?

After almost sixteen hours of sleep Yoongi still felt like he was withering away like the dulled afternoon that was falling into the arms of a blue evening.

An evening filled with coldness, the air stiff around the city who itself had frozen up, the sterile winter occasionally sighing on Yoongi's shoulders.

The streets were barren without any people passing by. Yoongi walked and walked with his eyes fixated on his tattered converses, beaten with time just like him.

Why was he here? Walking around mindlessly?

He was absent both physically and mentally. Absent from work and university too. His lethargic brain or physique could barely care anymore.

Hands were cold, fingers were numbed, his pallid face dead under the freezing weather. Maybe he should buy new converses? Should he?

His family needed that money. Just when Yoongi thought he couldn't care less he had found himself back to square one and back before the gate of their dorm. The sky had bathed itself in azure now, solemn and dark.

Yoongi noticed the female figure standing outside the rusted, metal gate. A girl with a red scarf around her neck and a bag in her hands.

Yejoo was slightly trembling in cold, red lips quivering, with her every breath a puff of smoke came out and embraced her scarf. She tucked a strand of her shoulder-length hair behind her ear when Yoongi stood before her.

A defeaning silence fell. The girl looked away. "Mom made some dumplings today and wanted to share with you. I called, your number was out of reach."

Yoongi's phone was dead and out of battery, lying on his cold bed in his room. He didn't bother to plug it with the charger.

When she held out the bag, a basket with a orange colored clothing wrapping it in, now that Yoongi had noticed, he realized too how unusually pale she looked. Her face gray and chalked under the weather.

"You should go home," he murmured taking in the bag. Her cold fingers brushed his own and she immediately didn't retrieve it but her hand lingered there, skin on skin.

"I will choose to be a med student," her voice wavered and she took her hands back, clasping them in front of her while looking down.

A flake of snow fell down from the azure sky to her hair, more followed. Yoongi sighed and wondered why it did not make him feel anything when he saw a silent tear roll down her pale cheek.

Yoongi really was becoming numb, just as bleak as the winter. Then he remembered himself crying out of hysteria last night and thought, maybe not.

He wasn't becoming ice cold yet. "You shouldn't come here either. One of my dorm mates are afraid of girls." And it's an inconvenience on itself, he didn't say it aloud. He was already harsh he knew, but he couldn't help it.