Twisted Every Way || Vmin/Yoonmin {Complete}

15 -- First Love

Three years previously, Yoongi found himself lurking through the tunnels at the height of the day; boredom often overtook him when he couldn't focus well enough to write. Though he knew well that inspiration wouldn't come to him as a result, he couldn't help but familiarize himself with his surroundings. With no other form of entertainment around, watching the on goings of the Studio was all that he had. He crawled upward, into a spacious canal over the rehearsal room, and paused over a vent where he could look down into space. He had only been residing at the Studio for a few months, yet its schedule was unchanging enough that he typically knew what was happening when. It helped that he would always hear the voices and synchronized footsteps at this time of day and knew that they were rehearsing. 

Though he didn't watch daily, he did occasionally peek in. Yet even he wasn't sure why he made this a habit, because he most often crawled away feeling annoyed over Jungkook being such a diva. Yet, as he peered down on that day, he squinted as he noticed someone different; a boy, short in height and stature, with a delicate look to him. He had dark hair and soft eyes, and moved with grace. Yoongi eyed him for a moment, but then dismissed the thought of him. This newcomer was just another pawn for Jungkook. Perhaps he pitied him a little, but that was the extent of his feelings.

It wasn't until nearly two years later that the stars aligned just right. 

Usually Yoongi was most productive with his writing in the evening. Even though he couldn't hear anything from the surface within his lair even during the day, he found more focus at night--maybe because he knew better than to think that anything interesting was going on in world above to amuse him. And yet, on a fated evening, he couldn't bare to sit in the silence and focus. Instead, he found himself wandering through the tunnels, as though he hoped that keeping his legs moving would help his mind work more efficiently. And then he heard something. It almost startled him at first, just because he didn't expect to hear a voice. It wasn't terribly late just yet, but usually everyone had gone home by now. He stopped in his tracks, listening hard.

The voice was singing. Even in its faintness it echoed through the tunnels and rang in Yoongi's ears. It was soft and sweet sounding; its high notes, though they were a little strained, sounded nearly feminine, yet he could tell it was a male's voice as it fell into its lower register. It certainly had its imperfections, little flaws that he could hear in technique and breath support. Nonetheless, his eyes widened as he fell under its spell, and before he could ponder any further, he turned in circles and ran toward the sound of it. Yoongi felt his breath growing deep as he sprinted, occasionally stopping to listen again and hoping he was going the right way. Within his mind, he prayed that the singing didn't stop; he needed to hear it and be serenaded by it for just a while longer. 

At last, it sounded as though the voice was just on the opposite side of the wall, and it was moving onward. Yoongi jogged as quietly as he could to keep up. Within his chest, his heart pounded hard. He'd never felt such a rush of emotion, especially from something so simple. How was it possible for a voice to have enraptured him so easily? Sirens were supposed to only exist in fantasy, and yet he felt as though he would all too easily follow this voice to his own death. Though he really could have followed it until the end of time, the singing from beyond the wall suddenly stopped. The ghost froze in place, helpless. He put his hands and an ear to the wall and listened, but there was only silence from beyond. Though he had only been graced by the sweet sound for a matter of minutes, he felt an emptiness within himself the moment that it went away. By pure coincidence, he had found both his muse and his ruin all in one person.

Yoongi tried to summon Namjoon down to his lair as soon as he could. He had hoped that, in sending a text that evening, that Namjoon would come first thing in the morning. But, it was afternoon before he had wandered down and was shocked to find Yoongi looking sleep deprived and disheveled, playing frantically at his keyboard.