4 am confessions.
Min Yoongi; your overthinking boyfriend.
Night air surrounded the early morning, light peeking from the curtains, shadows playing tricks on walls, white sheets mustered messily on the mattress, and two people so terribly engulfed in the shine of each other’s eyes.
The woman slept soundly, hugging a body pillow, bare naked, breathing evenly as her legs tangled possessively around the cotton. Her beautiful, smooth skin was painted with purple and blue, patches of rough love showing proudly as if they were her own trophies.
The man was sitting up, back facing her and his feet touching the cold wood, fingers cascading through his ruffled strands as his ribs rattled with shaky breaths. His face was contorted with thought, polished with a lovely pink and dark circles of sleep deprivation. Had he slept a wink, he did not know.
But he sat there with his lovely, pale skin, contemplating about something one would think silly to do so, but still he thought.
And then, he rubbed his face in utter frustration, slapping his cheeks as if to ready himself, and then faced you, hands lingering above your rising back. And he spoke quietly, carefully, but oh so lovingly.
His breath tingled your cheek, his raspy voice tainted with early morning haze automatically made you smile. You stirred from your slumber slowly, fingers readily reaching for his that were gently touching your skin. Your eyes cracked open when you mustered enough energy to do so, lazily staying still and breathing for a few seconds before rising, blanket covering your body strategically.
He waited in adoration as you closed your eyes again, sitting there with your head down and your hair splaying all over your face. You rubbed your face whilst sighing, curling your legs before moving your head side-to-side, the cracking sounds of your bones filling the air.
And then you faced him with a smile, momentarily adjusting your eyes to the sight of him sitting there in front of you, bare chested and smiling thinly, hands curled and expression taut.
You gave him a questioning look before reaching to unravel his fingers, slipping yours into his comfortably before your voice, a ringing fairy bell, pulled him back into earth, away from the clouds of his wandering mind.
Granted, it wasn’t perfect. Your voice was a bit raspy but Yoongi loved every pitch, tone, accent your throat had devoted itself to making. Because ultimately it was yours.
He trembled at your touch, trying to breathe as evenly as he could, staring at your knuckles and playing with your joints.
“So I’ve been thinking,”
You gave a little whisper of oh no, automatically making him chuckle and you quickly delivering a grin. “Go on.”
He cleared his throat, licking his lips tentatively before rushing up to face you.
“I love you.”
Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, silence stretching out longer than Yoongi had hoped for.
“That’s,” You started out slowly, still a little taken aback, “That’s great, Yoongi, but why tell me at… four in the morning?”
You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this man, but you could tell he had spent time going over this in his head, again and again and again.
“No, no, no,” He rushed, shaking his head as his eyes widened, “I love you.”
He had gotten closer to you, stressing this fact, holding onto you with heightened strength. And you stared back, mouth slightly agape and eyes blinking in surprise before your lips cracked into a lovely smile. You slipped your hands slowly to shape his face, thumb rubbing over his cheeks with soft care, moving his fringe from his eyes that had watered down its intensity.
“What exactly were you thinking about, hm?” You hummed softly, moving to tap your forehead to his.
He breathed refreshingly, closing his eyes momentarily as you went to slide onto his lap, kissing the crown of his head as you stroked his noir strands.
“I was thinking about how,” He inhaled, fluttering his eyelashes against your skin, “How beautiful you are.”
You pulled back to give him an amused smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I thought about how, the expanse of your skin is the only place I find comfort in.” He said this before kissing your neck, a slow, adoring peck.
“I thought about how kind you are to me, how supportive and encouraging you’ve always been, even on the nights I don’t come home.” He whispered sadly, mindlessly messing with a strand of your hair.
“You’re understanding, and caring, and even though sometimes you throw a fit, you admit the wrongdoings you’ve done. You’re a good person, a lovely one, someone who has easily become such an important part of my life, I…can’t explain how much you truly mean to me.”
You sat there in silence, gazing at his lips that uttered poetry, before kissing him sweetly.
You didn’t understand why he was praising you so highly, but it didn’t hurt to hear once in a while. Your heart had done cartwheels and your mind exploded with fireworks. Yoongi was never one to openly express how he felt, so when he began with a love confession, even as you were filled with confusion, you fell in love with him all over again.
He returned the kiss softly, touching the small of your back to move you in closer before breaking it, the faint sound of your lips separating made his heart ache, because even then he had already missed it. You gave him an amorous smile, giggling before kissing his nose.
“Yoongi,” You began, raking your fingers through his tresses, “I love you too.”
He sighed, it being filled with so much pure ecstasy and infatuation, you couldn’t explain the amount.
Yoongi sat there regrettably as you kissed him again, arms wrapped around his pale body, that wasn’t shaking with anxiety, but with adoration and admiration.
He regretted not being able to tell you how your eyes resembled gems in the sky, twinkling always. How your skin was never cold, how your hair always smelled like morning dew, how the way you sang in the shower always reminded him of joyous children, how the way you loved was so sincere and affectionate he would never get tired of it.
He regretted not being able to tell you how your texts still give him butterflies, how your tears (though rare) always rained down on him with piles of guilt, because such an angel as you need not to cry, need not to feel sad.
But he can tell you all of this soon, and he will, but maybe next time, a ring will be hidden in a bouquet of roses along with the future of what’s to come.