Yoongi took me somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere inside the house that I haven't been before. The place I was wishing to see for a very long time.
Was my wish granted?
How did Yoongi know that I've been waiting for this to happen? Does he really know? Or did he consider bringing me here because I mean something to him after telling him what I truly feel?
The question is, will he return my feelings?
This is the question I fear to answer. But that isn't my priority right now. I'll just slip it off my mind for the meantime.
How I adore this place so much. What's inside this place which he doesn't want everyone else to see aside from his chosen one?
Yoongi placed me gently on the soft surface of the bed, automatically relaxing my body to find comfort when my body touched the surface. I fixed myself properly, but when Yoongi saw me shuffling positions with an uncomfortable expression on my face, he tapped the pillow and smiled at me to relieve my uneasy state.
Seeing him doing that made me feel satisfied. He pushed the pillow on my back and tucked me there securely before curling up beside me.
His smile is the solace to my distress.
While looking at him, I willed myself to lean comfortably on the headboard. He pushed his body on the bed beside me, he rested for awhile. I stared at the ceiling of his room, observing him. I was about to ask him something, I turned to him but it stopped me when he wrapped his arms under my chest. My body was stuck into him, facing his glorifying being.
I survey the room while I was squeezed in his tight hug. It is completely designed with posh black and white decorations. The wall and the ground are coated heavenly white while the curtains on the window are as dark as the lonely night. The display of various ornaments symbolizes music and peace, I somehow understood why Yoongi was drawn into it. The rest of the decoration gives off a calm ambiance, but one thing caught my attention that seemed so odd when lined up among the others. It is the photo frame on the upper right side corner. It is an old photo. It looks like it has been oddly washed out by time and it appeals lonely to the first person who sees it. But on the contrary, it resembles happiness. Four people smiling entirely on the focus, it seems like those people were very happy at the moment and it was intentionally captured to preserve the memory.
Turning on the right side, a wide mirror is placed on the wall with a sophisticated mural painting designed in the background. A huge piano, library with books and albums inserted, a variety of guitars and big circle CDs are tangible too. The room symbolizes simplicity and comfort. But it doesn't reflect the mood of Yoongi in it at all.
Or I just haven't discovered it yet? I wonder what's the problem.
"Is this your room?"
Yoongi propped up his body in order to reach the blanket and covered our body. The moment it touched my legs, it felt warm onto my skin.
"Of course." He said in response.
"Why?" I whispered uncertainly. My eyes felt completely lost into him again.
Maybe he didn't get what I meant when I said why. He just stared at me as if he's waiting for me to speak more.
"I desire to know the reason why you wouldn't let me step in this place the moment I got here?" I had my arms securely tucked behind my body as he continued stroking my forearm. My head rested calmly on his chest, fainting every time I realized I was so close to kissing him.
"Because I don't trust you yet." He simply said, no emotions.
I didn't look at him. I refused to.
"What about now Yoongi?" I sounded hopeful but miserable.
"I need you." He whispered. "I think that's enough reason for you to know why I'm this close to you." He added.
It was offensive. Those words struck me hard. I felt the need to pull myself away from him.
You are just using me.
"What kind of need is that Yoongi? What is the connection of that in bringing me here?"
The question shook him momentarily. His eyes searched for mine. When he caught me, his stare lingered intently.
"Can you trust me?"
The silence was the only answer I gave him. I had my eyes squeezed tight shut while taking a deep breath.
He released a worried sigh. Yoongi lifted his hand and rubbed my chin softly.
"I want you to help me."
When I opened my eyes, the same feeling linger. The same feeling of betrayal.
Why do I feel like this guy is about to betray me?
"I want Minju to accept my proposal as soon as possible."
My brows furrowed in confusion and anger.
See? I was right. Guess, I'm still capable of reading people's mind. It wasn't that impossible to guess a certain person's desire when you realized his motives were too obvious.
I took over my emotions. I kept it intact to keep myself from getting emotional. But I can't avoid the downpour, I was on the verge of tearing up. I was just helpless for some reason.
"I thought you called it off?" I asked. Careful not to release a sob.
"I just want Mom to not interfere. Now that I've said it, she'll not be a hindrance anymore."
I felt like I was stabbed several times. And I'm so generous for allowing him to do that repeatedly and bear the pain. My mouth felt dry, shriveled up, and I was pressed against Yoongi's body, both curled up on the bed.
Miserable.
That's how I feel. That's how I look. Anger boils me, inevitably idles everything in me.
What about my feelings for you Yoongi? I thought you knew it! What's the point of telling you then?
I feel so ashamed of myself, I felt like I lost my dignity. Why did I tell him? Why?! I just gave him the reason to take advantage of me and I feel so stupid for that.
"I want to be useful to you, not to be used. I wouldn't do it Yoongi. Being your maid is enough to be called useful but being used? That's not a part of a maid's job." I propped myself up on the bed, from his attached body.
"How many times will I tell you not to call yourself like that?" He held my left arm tightly when he noticed me quickly left a small distance far from him.
I feel used Yoongi. That's how I feel right now.
"I wouldn't let myself fall into you again Yoongi. Not ever." I shook my head.
"No. You don't understand!" He tried to explain.
"I wouldn't really understand Yoongi." I felt tired of holding back my tears. Right at the moment I let it flow freely, I let myself push the tears out of my crashing heart.
"Do not leave me. I want you beside me. You're my light in the dark. In this darkness, I was taking. Please. Just trust me!"
Yoongi didn't fail to comfort me because I could feel the sincerity in his dull voice. He didn't fail to enlighten me as he continued persuading me. But I was so lost, I don't know what to think right now.
He pulled me into a hug, burying my face into his chest.
"I love you." He almost cried.
"You are the water to my thirst. You are the handkerchief to my tears. I had found a reason to fight, and that's you. So don't leave me."
We both fell silent for a moment.
"What do you mean Yoongi?" I asked coldly. Treating him like this, I felt like I was in triumph.
"You don't need to know. Because you are not a part of it. You don't really need to know." His eyes were so lonely as he talks to me. His face looked terrified.
I felt furious again. Blame a girl's emotion, they really can't keep calm and think for awhile. Guys are right, girls will never listen or learn.
"Well, I'll look for someone who will make me a part of his life. I'll look for someone who will consider me as a part of every struggle he encounters. I'll look for someone who would appreciate my worth and accept me in his life. I'm sorry Yoongi. I'm leaving now."
He didn't respond. His head was hanging low. I'm not sure of what he's feeling, but if that hit him, what could I do? I just said what I felt.
"No." He repeated for the last time. He raised his head to refrain the tears from falling. He lifted his hand and wiped his eyes.
Does he really mean it anyway? If I stay, I'll just let myself witness my own self-being tortured. If I go, at least it wouldn't add the pain.
"I'm leaving Yoongi." I tried not to care. I ignore the feelings that exploded when I heard him said the word.
"Please listen to me. Don't leave okay?" He whispered calmly.
I was struggling to get away from him, because as long as he can move his body and not let his emotion kill him, he wouldn't let go of me. He used his strength against me, capturing me in his hands in order not to escape.
"Where are you going? If you want to go down to your room, I can bring you there. Just please don't do anything that would hurt me." Yoongi was shushing me in my deep sorrow.
"Isn't it unfair? You already hurt me! Why are you so afraid of getting hurt when all you did was hurting someone else!"
I forced myself away from him and this time, he freed me. I quickly walked out of his room.
My tears flooded down my face the moment I sensed the bleak ambiance of the house.
I quickly ran down the stairs and strode into my room.
Oh, come on! Think! What are you still doing? Leave the house. Forget about Yoongi! Don't let yourself lose to your emotions. Don't be a fool for love.
I grabbed my phone and called Auntie.
The line connected, I quickly stopped myself from crying.
"Auntie, can I go there right now?" I desperately asked without thinking the next words to say.
"Why? What's the problem?" She worriedly asked.
"I'll just explain it to you later. Please, Auntie." My heart skipped a beat.
"Okay. Wait for me outside the house. I won't go in anymore. I'll be there in thirty minutes. Just wait for me."
"Okay, auntie. I'll start packing now." I said and bid goodbye.
What will I tell her after this? How will I tell her about Yoongi's plan if behind his bold statement was a sarcasm?
I took my duffel bag and stuffed all my clothes and belongings. I put on my converse shoes and left the room.
"I'm okay." I said to myself. I didn't know why I said that - it was a lie; it had to be a lie, but something told me it was the right thing to say.
It's really better to be cut by a knife and bleed physically than bleed inside without having an outlet.
"Yoongi, I was so stupid for doing this to you. I'm really stupid, but somehow I need to make you feel I'm not that easy. You have to realize it yourself." I spoke, standing in the middle part of the living room.
I wish he would hear it.
***
I waited for the car outside the gate. It's cold, but I wasn't blown by it. Depression kept me numb and ignorant. I realized, somehow, depression isn't just about sickness and agony, I have to be thankful for it because it comes with an advantage.