ใ€Ž ส™แด‡ษดแด‡แด€แด›สœ แด›สœแด‡ sแดœส€า“แด€แด„แด‡ โ‹™ sแดแด˜แด‡...

็”ฑ strawberryyhobi

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[please don't read this. I beg. my inexperienced ass was having a field trip with this one and it's atrocious... ๆ›ดๅคš

๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ฃ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ฃ๐•’๐•”๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ๐•ค <๐Ÿ›
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•–๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•–๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•–๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•–๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•–๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•–๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•–๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•š๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•—๐•š๐•—๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ฃ๐•’๐•”๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ข เฐŒ ๐•’
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐••
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐• 
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•ฃ๐•–๐•–
๐•ฅ๐•’๐•˜๐•˜๐•–๐••
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•—๐• ๐•ฆ๐•ฃ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•—๐•š๐•ง๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•ค๐•š๐•ฉ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•–๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•–
๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐• ๐•Ÿ๐•– ๐•™๐•ฆ๐•Ÿ๐••๐•ฃ๐•–๐•• ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•ฅ๐•–๐•Ÿ
๐•—๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•’๐•๐•–
โ™ก๏ธŽ ๐•’๐•ฆ๐•ฅ๐•™๐• ๐•ฃ๐•ค ๐•Ÿ๐• ๐•ฅ๐•– โ™ก๏ธŽ

๐•”๐•™๐•’๐•ก๐•ฅ๐•–๐•ฃ ๐•ฅ๐•จ๐•–๐•Ÿ๐•ฅ๐•ช ๐•ค๐•–๐•ง๐•–๐•Ÿ

564 58 105
็”ฑ strawberryyhobi

What the f*ck? Yoongi thought, as he noticed that Chul was glaring at him out of the corner of his eye.

As soon as he caught Chul viscously staring at him as a lion would do to its prey, Yoongi quickly went back to eating his salad, acting as if nothing had happened. Which, technically, nothing did happen. It was probably just apart of Yoongi's imaginations, as he was usually quite paranoid.

Right?

Right.

Shaking the thought off instantly, Yoongi blocked out the chit chat that was currently being spoken amongst his friends at the lunch table. His mind was much too occupied with other thoughts to pay attention to the jokes being told, and spurs of laughter sounding every few seconds.

The background noise practically became white noise in his ears, as his mind travelled to many exotic places and suspicions.

Even though Yoongi attempted to disregard Chul's evil cat-eye stare, he couldn't help but feel scared, or vulnerable under his carnivorous eyes. It sent shivers to run down his spine nonetheless, and it made Yoongi feel like Scar's mouse in the Lion King.

Desperately being hunted and tracked down everywhere he went, just so Chul could get the satisfaction of having the upper hand. Yoongi convinced himself he was fine however, as he's been dealing with this behavior for the past three years.

So obviously a simple mischievous smirk and soul-piercing glare wouldn't mean anything to Yoongi.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Yoongi's irregular and suspicious silence caused everyone else at the table to turn their focus towards him. However, the poor boy was so busy in his own thoughts that he hadn't even realized everyone was staring at him, worried expressions planted on their faces.

His fork dug into the salad in front of him, picking at the lettuce leaves as he had lost all his appetite from the previous unsettling occurrence.

"Yoongi, everything alright?" Namjoon worriedly asked.

Yoongi snapped up at the sudden name calling, eyes meeting Namjoon's concerned ones. He never really noticed how pretty Namjoon's eyes really were, captivating almost.

Yoongi averted his eyes down back to his lap, fiddling with his fingers to avoid looking at his friend's pitiful faces, "Oh, um yeah I'm fine. Why?"

"I dunno, you just seem kinda, off" Namjoon pauses before saying the last word, yet emphasizing it with a tone of worry in his voice.

Glancing back up at his friends, Yoongi quickly forced on a fake smile, "Don't worry about me, I'm just thinking about a test later next week."

Yoongi scrunched his face up at the cringey fib he had made up on the spot, hoping the others wouldn't catch on. Lying wasn't quite his specialty, but how was he supposed to explain that Chul just randomly glared at him without sounding like a baby?

Unconvinced of this, Seokjin sassily remarked back, "Yoongi, we all know that's not true. You know you can talk to us, right?"

Yoongi shifted uncomfortably in his seat, which Hoseok easily spotted, "Maybe he doesn't wanna talk about it, let's not pressure him," the boy quietly mumbled under his breath.

Yoongi's eyes shot up to meet Hoseok's sympathetic ones, as the older sent him a gracious smile 'thank you'. A heart-shaped smile formed on Hoseok's lips in return, before he went back to eating his lunch.

Everyone else at the table stared at the two's simple interaction, the two soulmates eyeing each other smirkingly.

"Hobi's right, lets not force him to talk," Jimin stated.

With that, everyone resumed to eating their lunches as if nothing was wrong. Bubbly conversation soon filled the empty atmosphere between them, which Yoongi was thankful for since he hated being the center of attention, or pitied at that.

Which is why the boy was extremely thankful that Hoseok had butted in, taking the attention of the anxious Min Yoongi. When being sympathized for, Yoongi only felt worse about himself since he thought of himself as being a burden towards the others. As they were carrying a lighthearted discussion before all their attention was direction towards the melancholy appearing boy.

For this reason, Yoongi preferred dwelling on his problems alone in his room, where he was free to sob uncontrollably without being judged or pitied.

He was grateful at least someone understood him.

꧁꧂

After the lunch bell ring, the group dispersed going their separate ways in order to make it to class on time, while also beating the giant crowd that formed in the hallways during passing periods.

Hoseok settled down in his seat, while taking out some writing utensils as he waited for the teacher to start their lesson.

Being a people person, Hoseok's senses would immediately pick up if someone was feeling down. And, being the kindhearted person that he was, felt Yoongi's uneasy stance at the table during lunch.

Even though the boy didn't know Yoongi's exact emotions or feelings, Hoseok could tell that the others' pressured questioning only made him much more tense, especially in a public setting.

At some levels, Hoseok could very much relate to this as well, as he absolutely despised the thought of bearing his problems on others. His outside persona may appear cheery, but on the inside Hoseok was quite the self-deprecator, as he always viewed himself as inferior to others or that his problems weren't valid.

The two boys may be on the opposite spectrum personality wise, yet their internal struggles and mind processes were nearly identical. Low self-esteem, overthinking, and constantly brushing off their own struggles were main factors they struggled with on the daily.

So, as Hoseok noticed that Yoongi awkwardly shifted on his seat at lunch, the least he could do was help the poor boy by meddling him out of the situation. Even if they weren't that close yet, it was just a kind gesture that could lift the heavy weight off Yoongi's shoulders.

And it worked.

꧁꧂

Standing before sixth period's homeroom door, Yoongi braced himself before walking in.

This time, it wasn't because he was dreading to deal with Hoseok's hyper personality.

No.

It was because of Chul, and that tiny interaction between the two at lunch. The remembrance of it made Yoongi insanely queasy, which may come off as pathetic to others as it was just a snotty look.

Yoongi had dealt with plenty of snarky glances from Chul before, so how was this one any different from the rest?

Even that Yoongi couldn't answer.

As he walked in, Yoongi kept his eyes averted towards the marble floor at all times, as he didn't want to catch Chul creepily staring at him again.

That was the last thing he needed at the moment.

Letting out a breathy sigh, the boy plopped down at his desk, already yearning for the day to be over. His energy had completely drained out of him, with only a little bit left to barely keep his eyes open.

Next to him, he heard the ruffle of someone sitting down as the chair squeaked against the tiled floor.

Hoseok apprehensively poked at the half-asleep Yoongi, who seemed to be dozing off quite peacefully. The younger let out a soft chuckle at Yoongi's puffy cheeks, but quickly covered it up as to not annoy him.

"Yoongi?"

Yoongi glanced up at the boy in front of him, a pleasant expression planted on his face.

Almost graceful looking.

"Mhm?"

"Are you okay? It's fine if you don't wanna talk, I completely understand since I hate attention as well. Just wanted to make sure," Hoseok replied genuinely, a gentle smile pulling at his lips.

Before sitting back up, Yoongi let down his guard completely as he motioned his head in Chul's direction.

'Oh', Hoseok worded with his mouth, sending Yoongi a curious look that read as an, 'What happened?'

Yoongi waved his hand nonchalantly in front of him, as an indicator that it didn't matter. Not wanting to push the boy's buttons too far, Hoseok didn't ask any further questions, but didn't hesitate to send Yoongi a last reassuring smile.

Which, at the moment, was all Yoongi really needed.

🍓thank you for reading ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ!!
🍼never forget that you are all amazing hehe <3
🍓editor/assistant: jiminie_cricket_

็ปง็ปญ้˜…่ฏป

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