A dual tone chime rings in the house and my brow lifts skeptically over my coffee mug.
It's usually always the mailman. Except it's Sunday and I'm not expecting delivery either.
I peer through the peephole but all I see is a blue haze, I scrunch my eyes and look again. Same thing. Curiosity immediately hauls the door in front of me open and shoves the answer in my face.
About my height, stands a figure who looks just a little older than me. He parts his lips spreading a smile, a finger of his pointing upstairs.
My brain instantly hits rewind on the voice from last night and it resonates in my mind.
Well shit. I wasn't ready to see him yet. My first instinct was to slam the door, right then, right there.
"Hey I'm Yoongi! and I just moved in upstairs. Ummm these are for you." He holds up a brown bag imprinted with a happy cupcake to our eye level.
He isn't the voice from last night, for sure.
"I'm sorry about last night. Least we should've invited you as well but honestly we didn't know someone even lived here—," he says, his smile sheepishly spreading up and over, showcasing a set of pearly whites and pink gums the equivalent to the colour of his lips.
A slender hand runs through his mop of blue hair over his pale forehead. It catches the morning light, like waves against a white sand beach.
He catches me staring and I quickly counter with a, "Yeah I-I don't come out as much," and I politely refuse the bag.
"No please—," he pushes, making me accept out of courtesy, but in all honesty it did seem to smell good.
"Well understandable, the fact that you like to stay in." He laughs as he tugs at his grey hoodie strings, eyes focused on his slightly mud splattered pumas. "Uhh so you think you can spare us the WiFi password again?"
"Oh right, sure Um—," I start to exhale, but he cuts me off quick with a, "How about you text it? I don't think I'll remember if you tell me anyways."
A beat of nervous? laughter again. "You have your phone?"
He promptly saves his number in and leaves with the same smile he first entered with, "oh I'm sorry but I don't know your name?" His ankle twists on the 3 stair as he looks down on me again, just as I almost shut the door, "it's Rin."
I smile shutting the door before I hear a reply.
New message
To: Yoongi
You
The password is nojams
Yoongi
no jams?
Yoongi
we are fun.
You
Well,
have a nice day Yoongi🙂
I was in no mood for small talk, clearly. Also yes, I changed the password again after last night. The last one was embarrassingly long and I mean, why miss the chance to come at them again right?
Leaving the brown bag of cupcakes out in the kitchen, I retreat to my room and sink on the couch flush against my large windows. This is my favourite part of the entire house, the only reason I payed the unreasonable rent.
It on looked the massive garden of the duplex, tended with a variety of different flowers. I'm really hoping new people moving in here doesn't change any aspect of it. The garden is one of the very few things that remind me that beauty and calm still exists in the world.
I pull open a red leather bound journal. Call me old fashioned, but when you have a mind that races a mile a minute it's nice to write things down.
A flip open to the back end to a small collection of lyrics scrawled in messy writing. Music seems to be an outlet. I enjoy it the most, pent up emotions unfurl the best this way. I can rebottle everything I sense and feel, and toss it a welcoming sea of melodies.
Singing is something I've picked up along side it, acting as a voice to my own lyrics. I pick up my guitar, the sole instrument I sort of know my way around and strum a low note. My eyes trace the words in the page and my mouth follows. My entire body eases into the song and I'm floating 7 feet off the ground. This is the only thing that brings me happiness.
My vision lifts off the page after a while and scans the familiar garden due forth, still immersed in the song I catch something at the corner of my eye.
A single long flat thread—no a shoe lace weirdly enough, hangs out my ajar window. A yellow sticky note reinforced to it with some tape, something's clearly written on it in neat script.
It dances with the breeze and my hands draw to it. My fingers trace the smooth paper as my eyes trace the writing.
We started on a low note *wink wink*
how about a redo?
~sincerely the other guy from level 2.
Ps. Tug twice if you've answered.
You've actually got to be kidding me.
Yet, I flip to the back slightly leaning out the window. The note pressed onto my hand as I scrawl a response,
What the actual hell?
~sincerely girl from level 1 who's confused as fuck
I tug twice and watch as the mystery guy from level 2, whom I'm assuming is the one with voice in my head hauls the note back up.
This is gonna be one long day.
[A/N]
I write the most stupid shit. I surprise myself.
Forgive me for the endless use of bangtan cliches.
Also I was sorta tired of seeing Yoongi as the sly, headstrong bitchy asshole in most fanfics,
not that I hate that, it's just I see it too much.
So Yoongi is sort of a softie in my fic. Hope you don't mind.
Also your comments give me life. thank you!! I can't believe you appreciate my mediocre sense of humour.