YOURA
"Wake up, angel."
My eyes move heavily. I slit them open just a little bit, enough to see Yoongi's amused face inches from mine.
For the first time, I hadn't dreamt.
"I didn't...dream about you." I say, mumbling dazedly. "Is it because— because..."
"Yes, it's because I'm real."
He lifts me up, and I notice Jungkook carrying an unconscious Taehyung out of the door.
I rub my eyes.
"I'm hungry."
But then I realize I'm being rude. This wasn't even my house— it was someone else's!
I shake my head. "N-Never mind."
"Come here."
He gets me things to eat, and I've already nibbles halfway through a sandwich when I pipe up.
"I'll get a job, pay for this sandwich."
He stops staring at me.
"Jungkook and I know each other, Youra." He says, making me stop chewing. "You don't need to worry."
"How do you—"
"You don't need to worry." He repeats, voice firmer. With a soft sigh, he reaches up and parts my hair over my shoulder.
I quiet down.
I'm about to take another bite when the air suddenly freezes. I instantly look up, to see Yoongi's dark eyes burning.
He grips my wrist so hard I almost jerk forward.
"What is this?"
I whimper when he pulls the sleeve away.
My scars come exposed, faded red lines against the snowy skin. I swallow at how scary he looks, and tears sting at my eyes.
It hurts.
"D-Don't hold it s-so hard."
"No. Talk to me what in the hell you did to yourself." He hisses, voice sharper than I'd ever heard him. "What is this."
It hurts.
I fling his grip away. "I s-said stop h-holding it so hard! It hurts m-more if you do that!"
Yoongi gives me a harsh look.
Then he corners me into the wall, easily towering over my short figure. His voice is flatter, icier.
"You cut yourself."
"Answer me."
My voice is so tiny it's almost a little squeak.
"A-And why do you care?"
