"WILL YOU STOP SCREAM HYUNG IM TRYING TO WATCH THE DRAG RACE, DAMN."
"Sorry! He. Sent. Me. A. Fluffing. Heart," I mumble whatever I said that wasn't the word sorry. I was literally floundering around like a fish on my bed. I dunno why I was feeling this way either. I felt all jittery and nervous, but in a good way. Butterflies in my tummy.
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I change again, because I want to look more nice for Yoongi. I changed into a pair of (something idk) and a Rolex. Just kidding. I can't afford one. Plus I'd loose it in about two days. I receive the address from Yoongi and turns out he lives about five miles away. I am NOT walking, yet I love the exercise. I might as well enjoy it anyways...
~~~
Whelp, here it is, Yoongi's apartment. This is one of the nicest apartment complexes in South Korea. I knock and in a few seconds I'm greeted by a tall guy with peach hair and glasses. "Yoongi~hyung's friend?" The dude asks. I nod and follow this dude. Hyung? These two are close. Wait what if they like each other? What if their dating? What if their married? What if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if- "Damn red head, you gotta stop spacing out like that," Yoongi was laying on a large, black, expensive looking couch, a bowl of corn ships beside him. He was laying there casually like a god. (Couldnt find a gif :/) "Oh, my name is Kim Namjoon by the way," the peach haired smiled, showing off his dimples, and stuck his hand out for me to shake. Of course I'm a nice person and I shook his hand. "I'm Jung Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi. It's up to you," I plaster a smile on my faceu and sit on the couch. "So, what were you two doing before I got here?" I ask, trying to start a conversation. "Nothing really. Peachy boy kept talking about nerd stuff," Yoongi snorted and stuffed his mouth with chips. Namjoon was disappointed, but not surprised. "You can't keep basing nicknames off of people's hair color Yoongi," I tell him and he just shrugs and takes a sip of a Dr. Pepper that just appeared from very, very thin air. "Whatever red head. I can say what I want. You ain't my eomma," he roasts me and I sit there like;
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"Fluff you," I say and he chuckles. "Well, let's watch a movie," I suggest.
"Let's watch Frozen!!!"
"Nooooooooooo!!!"
A/N: No words. I have softball tomorrow and I'm nervous and I'm trying out for the little league World Series. Yep, that's right. The tryouts aren't tomorrow don't worry.
