Boy Journal✔

33

Yoongi had been utterly confused. He had just been released from the hospital and everything had changed within the two weeks he had been gone.

Taehyung and Jimin were cuddling as if they were married, Jungkook was without a shirt and was cooking. And Yoongi swore he heard moans up the stairs from Namjoon and Seokjin.

Once Hoseok dropped him off and there were no signs of you, he asked Hoseok where you were.

"She didn't tell you? She got a job at Taeyang Coffee Shop!"

"Really?" Yoongi widened his eyes. "Don't they have to dress up there?"

Hoseok nodded. "Yeah, I used to work there. We would always wear special suits and the girls would wear these short skirts. If you ask me, it was an awesome time working there. We would have tons of perv-problems, though. And we had to speak the way the customers wanted us to. It's a great place. I got tons of hook-ups there."

"I remember. You were always so loud. Anyways, I'm leaving."

"Where are you going?" Hoseok asked, furrowing his brows. "You're strictly put on bed rest!"

"I'll be back soon." He walked out the door and trudged to the sidewalk, waving down a taxi.

Yoongi waited as the driver took charge and drove his way to the Coffee shop. He was excited to see you, no doubt. But to see other guys looking at you wearing a tight, tiny skirt. That was number one on his no-go list.

Once the driver parked, Yoongi paid him and stepped into the shop.

He escorted himself to a seat and looked at the menu, his eyes looking up time to time for you. He had no luck, ordering something to drink and eat.

"Y/n! Order for table seven!"

Yoongi looked up, noticing your long hair stretch down your back as you turned your head to the chef. "I was just about to change!"

"Just real quick!"

Yoongi looked at his table number; seven. A grin stretched across his face, his ears picking up the sound of footsteps.

"Hello, sir! Here is your order!" Your voice was toned higher a couple notches and it sounded almost as sweet as honey.

He looked up to see your face. "Thank you, Sweetie."

You widened your eyes. "Yoongi! I didn't know you were getting out today!"

"You make it sound like I got out of jail instead of the hospital, but I'll take the enthusiasm. Freedom to walk in my home is freedom, right?"

You smiled and hesitantly hugged him. His arms enveloped you. "Why are you being so shy? Is someome here blackmailing you or threatening you?"

You giggled. "No, no, no. Sorry, I don't want the boss to yell at me for being distracted."

"But you said your shift ended."

"It did, but as long as I'm handeling a customer as a worker, I'm still on the job. Ah, let me go change real quick and then we can hang out here."

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Yoongi chomped on his food and let out a soft moan from enjoyment. "It's been forever since I've had regular food and not hospital food!"

You nodded. "So, why did you come here? You should have told me you were getting released today and I would have taken off work to vring you."

"Well, howard come you didn't tell me about your job?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise."

You took one of his fries. "I wanted to buy you something expensive and then tell you I got a job."

"When did you get it?"

"You make it sound like we haven't talked in years when we last talked two days ago."

"Well, I want to know." He took a sip of his drink. "Come on, tell me."

"I got it last week."

"Oh."

You stood up. "Can we go home? My back hurts, and I'm sure the doctor put you to bed rest."

"Of course." He finished up his food and grabbed your hand, your feet showing him to your car.

"So, Y/n," he said as he got in the car.

You started it, blasting the heat. "Yes?"

"I haven't brought it up much, but a while ago... You said you were in love with m-"

"You like NCT 127. I love this song!" You blasted the music, it being almost impossible to speak to one another over it.

"Y/n-"

You began to sing, your fingers tapping the steering wheel impatiently. It was obvious you were ignoring his questions.

He gave up, turning the music down a bit. "It hurts my ears."

"Sorry, Yoongs." You kept jamming out to the song.

And all Yoongi did was read your expressions. His eyes studied the way your mouth moved when you spoke certain words. The way your dark eyes sparkled whenever street lights shined into them. When your nose wrinkled at the smell from the streets. When your ears wiggled from the noise of a dog howling.

God dammit, he was so fucking whipped for you.

You looked over to him. "What's up? You're looking at me like I have a dick drawn on my face."

He chuckled and looked away. "No, it's nothing."

You smiled. "I missed you at home. It felt so empty without you."

"Is that so?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I felt so lost without my best friend there."

Best friend. He was going to change that title, and you were hating that title.

In the beginning, the term "best friend" was a compliment, but as you grew older, it stung the both of you.

Then it hit you. It didn't sting when you called him your best friend. It hurt as bad a drowning. You suffer, the ability to suck in breath through your lungs happens first. Then everything goes black and then your world disappears. It's all about suffering.

You suffered without Yoongi. You needed him to survive. He was your oxygen and the world was the deep ocean that held you.

You needed Min Yoongi to live.

Maybe that's why it hurt so much to watch his blood fuse out of him. Maybe that's why those five words slipped out of your mouth at the hospital that one day without you realizing it.

You were truly, deeply, and threatfully in love with your best friend, Min Yoongi.

And fuck, did it hurt to have the label of 'best friend'.

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Wooooooooooooo ksklskslsl