December 2, 2016, 9 a.m.
"Dad, I told you! I don't need a babysitter looking after me 25/8!"
"Yoongi is only here to make sure you're safe, Honey."
"This isn't fair! Why doesn't Jimin need someone following him around?!"
"Woah, woah, don't drag me into this!"
At the voice of my brother, I snap my head towards the stairway. The blonde-haired boy strolls down the steps calmly, hands in his pockets as he saunters into the room. With a slight smile on his face, he greets our father 'good morning' before heading towards the coat rack by the doorway.
"Jimin, help me!" I whine, bolting in front of him before he can leave the house.
"This is none of my-"
"Please," I beg. Just the thought of a guy following me everywhere I go gives me the jitters, and I'm sure Jimin can see that.
"Geez," my brother sighs. I instinctively hook an arm through his as he turns to face Dad. "Father," Jimin switches his persuasive mode on, "I'm sure Jiyoung can take care of-"
However, before Jimin can finish his sentence, Dad holds his right hand up, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Save it, Jimin," he pauses to light his cigar, "Your sister just turned eighteen, and it's not like you don't know how many enemies I've made over the past years. I don't want her getting hurt, and I'm sure you don't either."
"But Dad," I object, letting go of Jimin's arm and stepping forward, "if you wanted to protect me, you would have given me a bodyguard a long time ago. Why now-"
"Because Yoongi here needs a job," my father shrugs, gesturing towards the mint-haired stranger standing beside him.
Besides having an expressionless face that screams 'danger', there's really nothing about this small-eyed, poker-faced weirdo that resembles a three-time wrestling champion, as he claims to be.
I'm pretty sure having skin that's white as snow won't win you a boxing trophy.
"Father" Jimin tries to stand up for me, but is interrupted yet again.
"Now Jimin, if you persist, I can always get Jungkook to follow you around before and after work as well," Dad states flatly, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
"What?!" Jimin immediately protests, but closes his mouth again as he contemplates the idea. "Actually," a grin spreads across his face as his gaze shifts to the raven-haired boy standing at the side of the room, "that might not be so bad."
I roll my eyes. "Jimin!"
Jimin shrugs. "Sorry, sis."
"Just - there's no more room for discussion," Dad sighs exasperatedly, apparently not expecting Jimin to go with it.
Jungkook, on the other hand, looks extremely shook. He looks to my father, and then to Jimin, before his gaze finally lands on me, his eyes as round as meatballs.
Oh gosh I'm hungry.
"No, Jungkook," I exhale in defeat, "You don't have to follow Jimin around. He's just joking."
"I am?" Jimin widens his eyes, more serious than ever.
"You - why do I even bother," I mutter, before spinning on my heels. "I'm off to the kindergarten now!" I yell without turning back.
"Have a nice day, Miss," the maids greet, pushing open the front doors and bowing at me as I walk past them.
A figure clad in black rushes in front of me as I near the front gates, and I look up to see the mint-haired boy stationing himself by the exit and holding the door open for me to walk through.
"You don't have to do that," I say as I pass by him, stepping onto the pavement, "You're not an usher."
"Yes, Miss," Yoongi nods, closing the gate and catching up with me in two big strides.
"Call me Jiyoung."
"Yes, Miss Jiyoung."
"Holy hell," I sigh in defeat. "Why are all of you like this? Are you robots or something?"
As expected, Yoongi doesn't reply, face expressionless as he marches beside me.
"Don't you know how to smile?!" I snap, frowning irritatedly at the boy.
Once again, he remains silent, apparently not bothering to give an answer.
"Please walk behind me where I can't see you," I order, and he immediately slows his footsteps, allowing me to walk forward so he can trail behind.
At least he's obedient.
***
"And this is the nursery, which you'll be in charge of," the principal of the kindergarten (where I'll be interning at for the next few months of winter break) ends off her tour with a beam.
I nod excitedly, a grin spreading across my face as I look around the sunshine-bathed room. Cots line the yellow walls, eight on the left side and four on the right. A whiteboard hangs on the wall beside the cots, while a small bookshelf is pushed against the wall opposite the doorway. Beside the bookshelf is a little chest, which I assume contains the children's toys.
The four-year-old children sit on the rug in the middle of the room, all staring at me curiously. I wave at them with a friendly smile.
Oh God, they're so cute!
"Jiyoung-ssi?" the principal, Mrs. Lee, draws my attention back to her.
"Yes?"
"Will he be following you around for the whole day?" Mrs. Lee asks, looking behind my shoulder. I turn to match her gaze, and my smiling eyes lock with Yoongi's serious ones.
"Is... there a problem?" I ask the middle-aged lady, hand flying to my neck as I slap myself mentally. Obviously there is a problem. The children are terrified of him.
At that thought, I turn to look at the children again, all huddled together as they stare at Yoongi with wide eyes.
Mrs. Lee opens her mouth to speak, but then closes it again after a moment of contemplation. "It's no problem at all," she smiles at me, although it seems rather forced. "I was just asking."
She probably just doesn't want to lose me, I think to myself. It's not everyday you meet someone willing to work for free.
"If there's nothing else, I'll get going," she excuses herself, heading out of the room and closing the door behind her.
I let out an excited squeal once she's out of earshot, and turn back towards the kids, walking to the spot in front of them and waving excitedly.
"Hi kids!" I bow out of habit, before remembering that I am the teacher. I giggle in embarrassment, hand rising to rub my neck once again. "I'm Park Jiyoung, but you can call me Miss Park."
"Good morning, Miss Park," they greet me immediately, and I squeal once again.
"Oh gosh, they're so cute," I mutter out loud.
"Miss Park," a little girl sitting to my left calls for my attention.
"Yes?"
"That guy is scary," she tells me, innocently pointing behind her, where Yoongi is leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, poker face on.
I groan internally. "Face the wall," I order Yoongi, holding back a glare in case I end up scaring the kids.
"But I can't protect you if I'm not looking at you," Yoongi states monotonously.
I almost rip all of his seaweed hair out.
"Yoongi, they're kids." I gesture towards the tots. "What could possibly happen?"
"More than you could ever imagine."
"Are you kidding me?"
"You have no idea how scary five-year-old children can be."
"They're four."
"I see no difference."
"Just face the wall, Yoongi."
"But I can't protect you if I'm not looking at you," he repeats again, a small smirk appearing on his face as he scrutinizes my ready-to-kill expression.
I open my mouth to retort, but end up sighing in frustration, not able to think of a better comeback.
So much for 'obedient'.
"No offense," I glare at him, "but I really don't like you."
He shrugs casually in reply.
"My job is to protect you, not to be your friend."
+
because i promised y'all a yoongi ff because he was an ass in 'things you said while i was crying' <3
-hoseokieomo