𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 ✓

⊘ • ❷ • ⊘

𓆩・༺ ꔫ ༻・𓆪

"Thanks again for dropping me off," I bring my head through the rolled-down passenger window.

"I'm heading this way, too. Don't think I do it to be nice," Yoongi lets a sly smirk flash across his lips.

Rolling my eyes, I step away from the white car. He drives—more like speeds—off down the road.

I open the door to our store, calling out. "Hi Dad," he stands behind the cash register, placing a single finger to his lips. He rushes me over to the counter.

"I have a few customers. You should have seen how crazy it got earlier. I sent home two of my employees. It got crowded in here, and I wanted there to be enough room for two more customers," I watch the way his eyes shine.

It's been a while since he's had so many customers. I don't think it was necessary to send home his employees—his only two workers. They work here and need the money, too. However, I don't mention it because I don't want to start an argument when he's happy.

"That's great, Dad. I'm happy for you."

"What should we do tonight? I can make a reservation at the brand new restaurant in the city—the fancy one everyone is talking about? Or, we can go out and buy something you need. Wait, even better, I can buy a new television for the living room."

"Dad," I place my hand over his, stopping his wild train of thought. "Why don't we use the money on the power and water bills? Save the rest for when we need it. We have to worry about bills every month. Let's make sure we have enough money to save before spending what we earned in a day."

Although I'm putting it as gentle as I can, I watch his eyes lower.

"You're right, my bad," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Dad, I didn't mean—"

"Would you mind watching the store, Vee? I need to head out real quick," he pulls off his red apron, placing it on the counter while rushing around to me. "Don't forget to lock up, too," he drops the keys on the countertop next to my hand. I stop him before he can exit the store doors.

"Dad, you can't be serious right now. I worked an eight-hour shift. You know how much I hate working during the night."

Turning around, he places his hands on my shoulders.

"Vee, you're nineteen now. I'm going to need your help at times. I know how much you hate the dark, but sweetie," he sighs, dropping his head, "I don't trust anyone else behind the counter except for us. I need someone watching the money for me. You know what to do if anything goes wrong. Now, I have to go," he places a kiss on my forehead, exiting the store anyway.

With frustration running through my veins, I walk behind the counter where I see a customer coming forward. I remove the keys and apron when she begins placing her items on the counter.

Grabbing each item, I scan it, add it up, and tell her that'll be fifteen dollars.

"Thank you. Come again," I smile with force. I know Dad smiles to the customers. I might as well act as though I want to be here as much as he does.