When the other man answers the call, successfully connecting their line, Yoongi was sitting upright on his bed, phone pressed to his ear as he began to speak. He knows Christian (a totally weird fake name by the way.) is there because of the laboured breathing, and he knows it's because of practice. Almost 3 months of talking, Yoongi now knew the man was obsessed with practicing – a perfectionist probably.
"Okay so I don't know how to explain it but somehow along the way, I got attached. Maybe it's because on the other line there's someone who's listening, maybe it's because your sarcasm grew on me but it's partly your fault too!
You came to me and bugged me all the time. You can't expect me to not just...feel anything. You listened to me in ways some people even don't. You don't even find me offending whenever I try to push you away so when I found out you were in Seoul too, god I was filled with hope and—
The beep cuts him off. With wide eyes he stares at the phone. Yoongi knew deep inside it was really false hope. He doesn't allow himself to wallow – he won't.
This was too stupid, even for him.
But he can't deny that he felt hollow when he sleeps.
YOU ARE READING
Weed | a YOONMIN text fic
Fanfiction❛yo, got some weed?❜ ❛oh my god - I'm calling 112❜ ❛ah shit, wrong number❜ ☏ Jimin's bored and Yoongi's stupid; and somehow along the way, they learn through each other and it's all because of WEED.
