There once was a world where the grass was blue and the sky a blank canvas that stretches on and on into an infinity of possibility, where one could stare at the skies for as long as they want and see nothing at all while another sees the universe and beyond.
It was a world where you existed not in any shape or form, but in concept alone. You could be everywhere at once and also be nowhere at all.
You were free.
You went wherever the waves take you, settled among morning mist and made merry with passing storms, a being that existed for the moment and nothing else.
The unbearable lightness of being.
There you heard a voice, a boy and his song, he entranced you and he called out to you, every word seeped into you and soon into your soul.
The blue grass started to grow, rising slowly towards the sky and you knew you had to find him, your new physical form, your heart, it told you so.
You start to run.
The dirt beneath you felt warm and welcoming. It pushed back at you and it grounded you, you could no longer fly, no longer be anywhere you wished to be.
But it was fine that way, you knew because it was the only way you could meet the boy, the only way the boy could meet you.
You turned sharply into the forest path and slipped against the wet leaves. Your knees were bleeding and you felt tiredness weighing down on your shoulder.
You felt alive.
The song echoed through the forest, carried along by the wind and you tried even harder to reach it, the growing blue grass obstructed your view.
Come, his song tells you, be by my side.
The grass cuts your skin, small unnoticeable cuts but they bleed all the same, it hurts all the same.
You burst out of the forest, now covered in a field blue grass and stepped into a beautifully leveled plain, the scent of freshly cut grass wafting about in the air.
The grass here was green and the sky blue.
His back was turned to you, his song warm and welcoming.
The blue grass, it rose up into the sky
Leaving behind this sea of emerald
The blue grass, it rose up into the sky
And painted it into the same perfect blue
He doesn’t look back.
You woke up the next day and felt that the world you knew was different. Sprinting out into your backyard, you saw that the grass was green and the sky blue.
And no one could tell you that it wasn’t real.
Because you were never taught the answers, you feel them within.
The boy by the window, his palm against his cheeks, his eyes on the sky beyond and his being, so very far away, in a world you can only begin to imagine.
Today as well, you gaze at him from afar, afraid that if you wander too close, the perfect world he seemed to radiate would break. That beautiful solitude he surrounds himself with, it was not something for you to take.
You tell yourself, another day, you say as you settle the beating of your heart and turn your attention back to the loud chatter, smiling, laughing just so you could belong.
Just so the emptiness inside of you would dissipate, even if it’s only a little.
The bell rings for independent studies and your friends scatter back to their seats, a wave of peace settles about you like silk, draping itself against your shoulders. It was neither warm nor cold.
You find yourself looking for him once more, your eyes settling on his seat beside you as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if he was all there was in this moment.
Sunlight filters softly through the old worn out glass and you see invisible dust floating lazily in the air about you, in circles and circles they dance, going wherever the wind carried them.
You hummed a soft tune under your breath, studying the way light spills through Yoongi’s wind blown hair, how it makes them look lighter than they’re supposed to be.
His fingers twitched and he freezes in concentration, his back sudden straight and alert, his eyes that were so cold moments before now searched into yours. It startles you and you turn away, looking desperately for anywhere to look but him.
Yoongi notices your distress and settles back into his usual state, detached and indifferent, though his fingers tapping impatiently against the wooden table tells you otherwise.
You wonder if he found your gaze vexatious and felt a small sting in your chest.
You don’t look his way again for the rest of the day.
A triangle of light creeps slowly across the room and by the time it hits your desk, the bell rang for the end of school. Gathering your books as fast as you can, you start to leave for fear of his discomfort but was surprised instead when a gruff voice muttered, “That song…”
Like a forest path hushed with the passing of rain, quietly untroubled and surprisingly soothing, Yoongi speaks in a voice familiar to you, a voice you’ve known your whole life.
The bustling of people leaving and hustle of footsteps fade away and you stood there rooted, hoping to hear his voice once more.
“That song,” he repeats and it’s the same one you hear, every night in your dreams for every day of your life, that voice.
“The blue grass, it rose up into the sky…”
You whispered and his eyes widen in disbelief, relief, happiness and many more emotions filled his eyes, those eyes you had longed to see but never could.
“And painted it into the same perfect blue…”
In that moment, all was right.
And in that moment, you’re finally alive.
As many of you may or may not know, I rarely write fics for yoongi mostly because I don’t feel like I do him justice in my writing.
But I had this sudden though when I looked at how beautiful the sky was today and as I was working it out in my mind, the only one I could imagine in this scene was Yoongi and I just had to write it out.
I hope you all love this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
- Raye (❁´ω`❁)