YOONGI'S POV
"Oh wow, my man is such a boyfriend material!" He applauded loudly as I placed the dishes on the table. My cheeks were hurting in attempt to stop my smile tearing apart my face.
"Don't you get cringed when you speak 'my man' over and over again?" I asked.
No complaints though.
He shrugged, "I always wanted my girlfriend to call me that. It felt a matter of pride that I am someone's who is ready to accept myself. Not in a platonic way ofcourse. But now, I think speaking it is better." He sat down on the chair and took a bite of the pork cutlet I prepared, he immediately panicked. His hand fanning his mouth and his eyes watered. He probably burnt his tongue.
"Let it out," I insisted but he shook his head. Gasping and then swallowing the bite.
He stuck his tongue out, showing where he got burnt. I poured a glass of water for him and he instantly chugged down the entire glass.
"That was tasty," he said, still with desperate gasps and bloodshot eyes. His actions made me smile. He was so considerate.
"Are you okay?" I asked and he nodded, taking another bite but I stopped it from eating then. I took the chopsticks from his hands, rather snatched, blowing on the piece of food between it and then placed it in front of his lips. My one hand beneath it preventing it from falling.
He looked at me once and gave a broad smile before capturing the food and then devouring it with the same smile. How much more does he wants me to fall for him?
"You too, eat," he insisted.
"I made this for you since I was at fault. I'm sorry Tae. I just get angry so early. Well usually I don't but I don't know why when you refrain yourself from speaking something to me or try to runaway from me, it makes me feel odd. I am not angry, but it comes out as that," I sighed.
"You know Yoongi... Lemme tell ya, short tempered people are the absolute pure hearted. They don't pent up rage and just burst out momentarily. But the thing is, you are always responsible for your words no matter how you feel. Something that I call facts of life and I absolutely hate them. I will understand you but not everyone will. I can see through your eyes but not everyone has the time for the same. Actually, no one cares except a countable few," he explained and I was dumbfounded. I had only seen him as a light hearted, sentimental and highly professional man.
"I don't give a fuck about people whom I am not connected to. They would judge anyway," I replied, feeding him another bite.
"That's a way of looking at it. But..."
"Hm?"
"If you're not tired anymore... Can we go somewhere?" He asked with hesitant eyes. I'd go anywhere with you!
•••
"Where are we going?" I asked and he winked. The stars were already twinkling in the night sky while he was painting his car nameplate with mud. What was he upto?
He gave me a mask and a beanie while he himself wore his hoodie and mask and gestured me to sit in the car and so I did.
He drove for minutes without words and then stopped abruptly, practically nowhere. It was just an empty street.
He looked at me while pulling the handbrake and pulled down his mask to display a broad grin. His eyes displayed nothing but pure excitement. I was absolutely clueless what he was doing and the only reply he gave me was - 'Its time to execute YN's plan!'
He reached out for something at the back seat and pulled out a big bag that rustled of metal. He opened the chain and unveiled a can. A spray can. He gave me one and I took it anyway. It was a bottle of spray paint.
He pushed his mask back up, "We're gonna paint the entire LA in love!"
"But this is Gwangju..."
"If I say it's LA, it's LA!" He insisted cutely and I just shrugged.
We got out of the car and I had the least idea of what we were about to do but examining his excitement, I went by it.
He gripped my wrist lightly and ran in a direction unknown to me. We were finally in a secluded area of building backs.
"Are you ready?" He whispered.
"Ready for what?" I matched his tonal gestures.
"You've got your canvas artist Min Yoongi, paint the walls of LA in love!" He said going ahead and making a straight green coloured line on the brown walls.
As I went ahead and sprayed a little colour, it was yellow. Wasn't the colour of love red? But as I did so, a wave of thrill passed through my conscience. I didn't even know why I was enjoying it. Making stupid hearts and flowers on the walls and giggling continuously. I think I got what painting the walls in love meant.
"Are you sure this is legal?" I asked, giggling as I was pouring my non-existent artistic skills on the wall.
"Obviously not," he replied and I nodded till I realised and stopped abruptly. I looked at him, my hand stationed in its place that was about to spray another time. He was jubilantly making something I could not make out. He understood my gaze and stopped what he was doing, "what?"
"This is illegal?"
"Obviously. That's the fun part!"
"Oh but then-"
"What if I write..." He interrupted me in between spraying again and I was intrigued, "your name on the wall of love?"
I ran almost immediately to hold onto his hand. He was fighting my grip and trying to get to the wall again. We both were in the moment, giggling and laughing like complete idiots till a voice was heard and it chilled my blood. Police sirens.
We were frozen and looked at one another in complete devastation.
"Leave them here," he insisted throwing the can on the street itself and I copied. The volume of the sirens was increasing and the car was parked a distance away.
I was still contemplating when he got me by my wrist running towards the car. I pulled him back into a isolated alleyway and pinned him against the wall.
He looked at me, stunned.
"Shh..." I shushed him pointing towards the officers that were in the way. He tried to peep towards them but I held him in place. There was a major chance of we being caught.
We were standing so close to each other, his nervous breath was fanning my face. His woody scent was alluring me towards him. One of my hand was palming the wall beside his head and another was on his shoulder holding him in place.
I looked into his eyes that were beautiful brown. Not any normal brown, it was the perfect shade I love. Absolutely the best brown I had ever seen. My gaze dropped towards his lips and my heartbeat raced. I took a deep breath to pacify my shuddering heart.
I looked back up again and noticed his glance on my lips. A proud smile twitched my lips and he quickly looked somewhere else. In that moment I forgot about the officers, or anything in the world that affected us. I just wanted him.
I leaned closer so my lips were nearly touching his earlobe and I could hear his heartbeat. He inhaled sharply when my breath hit his ear and I was overwhelmed at his sensitivity.
"Kiss me," I demanded in the most dominating voice I could produce.
He looked back and now our noses were lightly brushing one another. How lucky.
"Bu-" I shushed him placing a finger on his lips. I knew I did it wrong again, hurried it again, made a complete fool out of myself again. His hand removed my finger from his lips.
He motioned further and I was shocked. He placed both of his hands behind my neck and placed his lips on mine passionately.
I was flabbergasted, such that I could not move. He pressed his body against mine as we press flowers in a book, with a delicate care and a fond admiration. I felt embraced and even when I wasn't broken, he was fixing me.
He stopped and parted, I was still statued. His lips were inches apart from mine. I heard the footsteps of someone. He pushed me against the opposite wall and violently took off my jacket placing it over our heads.
His duality will be the end of me!
He leaned in again, I cannot see him and that adds to the thrill.
I could hear his heavy breath and the proximity allowed me to even feel it.
"Kiss me, you piece of shit," he demanded in a husky voice. And somehow, I was willing to be a sub under him.
My hands were free, so I cupped his face and crashed my lips onto his. Nothing else mattered then. I think someone came and saw us and ran back but we were so into swapping roles of dominance. But with him, every moment was painted in love. The colour of love was never red, it was just him. Always him.
•••
(A/N:
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