Yoongi lazily chucked a yawn, gliding his ballpen between his slender fingers, staring down at his vintage-themed notebook.
Yoongi was a motionless writer, who wrote whenever he wanted to. He found his utter source of taking out stress in his cheap ball pen and notebook, which was certainly very close to his heart. He knew how to make a play of words so good, that anybody could fall for his silk-like flowing words.
He kept his work simple but deep, they held millions of emotions and warmth in them. He just loved the way the words made him feel light, always being proud of them. He didn't a fuck what people thought of him, or think of his untidy work, all that was important to him was his own opinion, if he didn't like his work, he'd rip and crumble it immediately. He just wrote his daily thoughts and questions that would lifelessly pop up in his mind.
Not all can play the mischievous word game like he does.
The way the words would loop and rhyme with each other would make his lips twitch, make a satisfactory feeling bloom deep inside his heart like a flower on a spring day.
Yoongi was a simple person, who'd dress like he's going to a funeral 'cause according to him those bright colors would make his eyes hurt, he didn't have any fancies or any dream, he just went with what his mood felt like.
" 'It's over' Once this two words sentence falls from your lover's lips, the darkness circles you in the form of dust, painting life in shades of dark that you didn't know existed." Yoongi snorted as he looped those words messily in his notebook, just witnessing the unpleasant (yet interesting) sight of two couples breaking up.
The sun's warmth bled over his pale skin as he sipped his canned americano, face scrunching at the bitter yet overwhelming taste. His lips twitched into a slight smile as he caught glimpses of a particular male.
The particular male in a baby blue sweater, whose tongue slightly stuck upwards, hands clutching on sketchbook as he carefully glided his mechanical pencil over the pages. The round glasses almost falling off the rim of his nose and his yellow beanie nearly slipping off his oak dark hair, but he was too concentrated to notice that.
Ah, he was there again.
Yoongi didn't know who he was, or never even tried to get to know him, he just watched the boy from afar, beam and radiate his brightness around him. To say, he has never seen the pretty boy anywhere else other than the particular bench, and all he knew was that he was a student from the art department.
Oh, it's been a year since Yoongi has been observing the boy.
The pretty boy in the baby blue sweater probably didn't know he existed, while for him, he was his whole inspiration. From the motivation to come to university on time to stop procrastinating, the pretty boy unknowingly always helped him.
There would be times, where Yoongi wouldn't have a single motive in his mind, his brain lifelessly falling into a dumpster of nothingness, just then he would think about the boy who he supposedly calls 'Petal', and make his once empty pit of mind flood with words games.
There was something different in the boy in baby blue sweater and Yoongi was curious.