The Neighbours (Part 6)
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Romance, Mild Angst
Summary: At last everything seemed to be going your way, you had a new flat, a nice job and fantastic friends. However, your life descends into chaos when one of Korea’s most popular boy groups, BTS move into the flat next door to you. And things go from bad to worse when you find yourself falling in love with one of them.
These days Min Yoongi seemed to be the only thing occupying your mind. You could never get the image of him out of your head, it was liked he had been engraved into your brain. You would often find yourself going over every single intricate detail of him in your head, anything from his shy little smile, his small frame, his overwhelming presence or his frustratingly confusing personality.
He was a riddle that you were perpetually trying to work out. Every attempt you’d made so far had failed miserably, every time you found yourself a little closer, every time the distance between the two of you started closing, something would go wrong and you’d be back at square one again. It was like he was purposefully forcing the distance between you to become wider, until he was totally out of your view. Just a mere figure in the misty distance. Of course, due to your rather worrying desire to be close to him, your aggravation grew everyday. You found yourself wishing, more than anything, that he’d smile at you the same way he had before in those few brief occasions when he hadn’t been avoiding you.
Obviously, he’d gone back to his usual trick of avoidance. Not that you were surprised. It seemed to be a great skill of his. He crept around the corridors like a ghost in the dead of night, had he been leaving so ridiculously early and coming back unfeasibly late simply to avoid you? That seemed a little dramatic and Yoongi wasn’t a very dramatic person from what you understood. Perhaps your paranoia had just gone a little too far.
You hadn’t even caught sight of him since the day he unknowingly walked into your cafe. Annoyingly, you missed his face, you missed his mess of black locks and his dainty lips. Though of course, you weren’t willing to truly admit that to yourself, because as far as you were concerned, you hated Yoongi.
There was a summer storm slowly brewing outside as you open the main door to your apartment complex and slowly heave yourself up the seemingly never ending staircase, your knees feeling weak and ready to buckle. Today had been a particularly exhausting day, it had immediately gotten off to a bad start when Mina had dragged you to the gym for what she had called “a pre-work workout”. She’d seemed especially proud of her coinage of the term and her mood had been so high that when you enquired as to why she’d suddenly decided to become some sort of gym addict, she simply placed her fingers over your lips to cease any further words. In the end you’d just decided to go along with it, though your sore muscles were paying the price for that decision now.
You wonder if Yoongi likes girls who work out. You think back to that one shameful night when you had googled what their ideal types were (you had told yourself it was just research, you were merely showing a friendly, casual interest in your neighbours of course) it hadn’t said anything about Yoongi liking girls that worked out. But didn’t all guys like girls who worked out? Or did they not care? More importantly, why exactly did you care?
When finally you make it to the top of what had felt like mount Everest, you let out a long, overly- dramatic sigh as you fumble around in your bag for your keys. The keys seem to evade you and you stand for a good two minutes desperately trying to locate them, the sound of them jangling taunting you. You often swore your bag was bigger on the inside than the outside, because despite its smallness, all your possessions were forever getting lost within it. When you finally find them you almost cry out for joy, you wanted nothing more than to get inside and laze around for the remainder of the day.
Just as you are about to slide the shiny key into the lock, you hear footsteps echoing throughout the hallway. By some sort of strange intuition,you could tell who they belonged too, perhaps you’d become so obsessed you’d even perfectly memorised how his walk sounds. God, you really needed to get a life. However, in spite of that, something about the noise was different today, like he was slowly dragging his feet across the tiled floor, as if each step was a strenuous effort.
You spin around, and sure enough, you’re met with the sight of Yoongi. His hood is pulled over his head, masking the upper parts of his face, but you would probably still be able to identify him correctly from a mile away. You notice that he looks smaller than usual, he’s hunched over in an odd fashion as he ignores your presence, continuing to his front door.
“Yoongi?” you say weakly, unable to resist the temptation to call out his name. Ordinarily, you would have been able to restrain yourself, but not today, you can tell there’s something wrong with him. The whole atmosphere surrounding him is unusual, he isn’t walking with strong purpose and determination. He seems sort of…frail.
He gives a uncommunicative little hum of acknowledgement before continuing his torturously slow, painful walk. As he gets closer to you and his features reveal themselves one by one, more dread builds within you. His fairly pale skin has dropped to an even whiter colour, almost to the point of transparency, and his face is covered with a glistening sheen of sweat. His expressionless eyes seem sunken in and the surface of his lips are cracked beyond belief.
“Yoongi, are you okay?” you attempt again, determined to get some sort of answer out of him, though you aren’t sure why. If he wasn’t going to answer you, you knew in reality you should just leave him be. Yet you could not bring yourself to do such a thing.
“Yeah I’m great, everything’s just peachy” he spat back sarcastically. Hidden within the sarcasm is a frailty, one that makes you bit your lip out of anxiousness and worry.