kiwilogical - Tumblr blog

kiwilogical · 4 months

Text

Shadows We Trust

BTS Ot7 x Reader

Chapter 16

I strolled through the bar confidently. A mere few months ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed of setting one foot in here, but things changed. I had more reason to feel safe in places like this than I did in any other part of my life now. I hardly paid attention to anyone around me. My feet carrying me through the building just like they had many times before. Knowing the way without me even having to direct them. Back to the last booth, where I knew he’d be.

And I wasn’t disappointed. I saw the back of his head, those dark brown curls as unkempt as usual. Out of control really. But he refused to cut it, no matter how many times I mentioned it. I slid into the booth across from him, that familiar smirk making its way onto his lips as he peered up at me.

“Careful. Come in here too often and my crowd will begin to think you’re with me.”

“Everyone already assumes that.”

“Touché.” He chuckled, bringing the cigarette in his hand back to his mouth.

I grimaced, looking at the thing in disgust.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t smoke around me.”

“Well, if we’re being fair, I didn’t really expect your company tonight and I already lit it.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I know. I’ll consider quitting. Just for you.” He winked, taking one more drag before snuffing it out in the ash tray on the table between us. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening. Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.”

“You know. Don’t you?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Know what?”

“Whatever it is they’re keeping from me.”

It didn’t take a keen eye to notice how tense he suddenly became. Eyes leaving mine before they could unintentionally give too much away. His body language told me enough. He did know. I reached across the table, grasping onto his hands tightly.

“Please, V. You’re the only one I can ask.”

“I shouldn’t be. This isn’t something I can get in the middle of.”

“I tried asking him already. He just tells me not to worry about it.”

“Then you shouldn’t.”

“It’s not that simple. You’re all keeping something from me. Isn’t it fair for me to know if it concerns me?”

His eyes darkened, the underlying anger I had only ever seen a few number of times forcing its way to the forefront. And for the first time, I was on the receiving end of it.

“Not when it risks getting you killed.”

I jolted awake. My eyes blearily focusing on the ceiling above me as my dream faded away, taking everything with it until I couldn’t remember anymore. It was strange how it kept happening. They were all so vivid, that much I knew, but the way they seamlessly evaporated like smoke the moment I woke left me with nothing more than a whisper of recognition. Unable to shake the feeling and also unable to recall what conjured it. Quietly, I turned my head to the window. The sunset cast everything in an orange glow. The day circus would have almost everything wrapped up by now. The day done and left to the crowds the Dark Circus would no doubt attract.

Except that we weren’t to perform tonight. This evening would be my first practice with Jungkook working on the new routine he had planned for the two of us. As much as I dreaded facing any of them after what happened last night, I couldn’t abandon the entire reason I chose to work with them to begin with. Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of bed and down the hall. I was silently thankful it didn’t appear Yoongi was awake yet. His door still tightly shut at the opposite end of trailer although I figured it wouldn’t be too much longer before he started getting around for the day.

I hadn’t heard him come in last night. Even though I laid awake for the majority of the night. I struggled getting to sleep. My brain refusing to shut off as it replayed what happened last night over and over. I still couldn’t escape it, the memory lodged in my mind even while I was awake. I pushed the bathroom door open tiredly, my eyes gravitating towards the mirror above the sink.

Ugh, I looked like shit. Felt like it too if I were being candid, but I could hide the way I felt a lot better than the way I looked. The dark circles under my eyes, the paleness of my skin, my tired expression, it’s kind of amazing what a night without sleep can do to someone. I flipped the faucet on, praying that maybe a bit of water and my skin routine could revitalize it some. I couldn’t get what happened last night out of my head. The way I had let Taehyung get to me. Finding out that he had been the one to sneak into my bedroom all those nights ago and rather than being repulsed by that revelation, I had fucked him instead. There was definitely something wrong with me. I should’ve known when I started spying on Hoseok, but that was harmless. How was I supposed to know that a darker piece of me would act on the desires I kept under lock and key? I shook my head, washing my face a bit more aggressively than I normally would. No. I simply let my anger get the best of me. It was a one-time occurrence, and it would never happen again.

I think…

Two quick knocks pulled me out of my pep talk. Drying my face quickly, I twisted the knob and opened the bathroom door. Yoongi blinked at me tiredly, his red waves endearingly disheveled likely not having bothered to fix it before wandering his way down the hall.

“Good morning.”

His answering smile was heart-melting.

Evening. He mouthed, tapping his wrist as if he’d had a watch on.

“Right. Good evening.”

It was the first time I was seeing him not clad in a jacket or oversized hoodie. Black seemed to be the color of choice for him as I looked down at the large plain t-shirt he had clearly slept in. The front of it all wrinkled and the collar stretched out exposing a piece of his collarbones. But his neck is what caught my attention. The front of it was covered in scars. The skin there mangled and darker in color compared to rest of his pale complexion. I wondered how I had never noticed it before. But up to this point he had taken measures to cover it as best he could. As if sensing where my attention had been drawn, he shifted anxiously. Hand coming up to gather as much of his loose shirt collar he could and cover the damage.

I averted my eyes in the next second, a bit upset I had made him so uncomfortable. It must be something he’s self-conscious of and I had more or less gawked at it like an idiot.

“Hungry?” I asked trying to deflect the awkwardness that had manifested between us. “I was thinking we could have breakfast, or dinner, together before I head out with Jungkook for practice.”

He nodded, stepping out of my way so I could pass him and leave the bathroom. His eyes trained on the floor leaving me with a sad feeling knowing I had made him that uncomfortable.

“I’ll get started on it then. Any requests?”

He grunted noncommittally before shaking his head again.

“I’ll just see what’s in the fridge then.”

He waited until I was out of sight before closing the door. Unsure how to remedy the newfound tension between us, I continued to the kitchen. I hadn’t meant to stare, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I wasn’t curious about those scars. But I also realized that neither of us really knew each other well enough to be sharing secrets like that. Sighing, I opened his fridge, digging around to see what I could whip up. It felt a little weird to be rummaging through someone else’s fridge. It would probably take some time for this place to feel like I belonged here too, if it even happened.

Depending on how long it takes me to catch onto the new routines would determine my time here. I flicked on a couple of the kitchen lights, the sun finally dipping low enough on the horizon to warrant the use of artificial light. Quiet shuffling behind me had me turning around, Yoongi having changed and looking more awake now. He tossed a notepad onto the counter, something already written on it as he motioned for me to read it.

I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.

“No.” I told him, turning to face him. “You didn’t. If anything, I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to stare like I did.”

He took his pen in hand again, writing quickly.

I was worried you’d think they’re ugly.

He stared down at the sentence. His fingers gripping tighter around the pen before he violently scribbled out the last word. I didn’t miss the subtle trembling in his hand while he rewrote.

Hideous.

A sound that I could only attribute to some sort of frustrated sigh left him as he scribbled over two words this time.

I was worried you’d think I’m hideous.

I laid my hand over his before he could go back to scratching out what he wrote. He paused, shifting his attention from his words to where my hand held his. All at once, his anger dissipated. Leaving nothing except a sadness I couldn’t fathom.

“Yoongi, I don’t think that.”

He dropped his pen, hesitantly turning his palm up to intertwine his fingers with mine. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to mine. The beautiful shade of silvery blue searching my face for any hints of deceit. As if he found it hard to believe that his scars truly didn’t matter to me. I squeezed our fingers a bit tighter.

“They don’t matter to me.”

His brows pinched together, free hand lifting towards his neck and softly pressing against the place his scars would have been visible if he hadn’t covered them again. A spark of that anger returning with the disgust he felt for himself.

Broken.

He mouthed vehemently, looking away from me. He was pulling away, his fingers slipping through mine until I grasped onto them harder. I grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt with my other hand, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You’re not.” I told him firmly. “I don’t see you that way.”

I let his hand go as he reached for his pen again, his obvious frustration with not being able to converse normally with me being taken out on the paper as it crinkled under his angry strokes.

I’m not who I used to be.

“That’s not important. The person you used to be isn’t who’s here with me now. The Yoongi you are here, with me, is the one I care about.”

He moved as if he were about to write something else. His hand hovered over the paper, unsure. I didn’t know if it was because he was thinking about what he wanted to say, or if he was trying to find the words, but I remained patient. Unwilling to let him go in case he took it to mean I was going back on my conviction. Finally, he dropped his hand to the pad again. Letters coming out shaky under the hesitant hand that wrote them out.

Do you like me?

The question was unexpected, but a part of me understood that he was seeking reassurance. Whatever had happened to him left him with more than just physical scars. He was emotionally damaged as well. Forced to live with the thought that if someone did happen to see the physical evidence of the horror he lived through they would be utterly repulsed by it. They would think differently of him because of them. All to be seen were the scars and not the man. The realization was heartbreaking. It wasn’t lost on me how strange it was for me to feel this way towards a man I had witnessed murder someone right in front of me.

But I hated knowing how he thought of himself. That he was less of a human being for living through something traumatic. I tugged on the sleeve I still held, forcing him to drop his pen that he was in the middle of writing with again, and turn towards me. The eyes that looked at me were vulnerable, the blue-gray shimmering with the mistiness gathering in them. I stepped into him, wrapping my arms around his waist as tight as I could. He was slow to return it, his hands wrapping around me loosely before gradually bringing me in closer as he let himself fall into the comfort I was offering him.

“I do like you Yoongi. You’ve been kind and accommodating. You saved my life. The way you look doesn’t change any of that.”

I didn’t say anything even as I felt his body tremble against mine. I simply held him for as long as he’d let me. Hoping that even a sliver of what I felt for him, about him, was apparent in the strength I embraced him with. The world around us could have come to stand still for all I cared, as long as Yoongi understood that he meant more to me than the wounds he carried. Forgetting, even, the words he had been in the middle of writing on his pad of paper.

I wish we could go back to how we were before…

Taglist (closed):

@strawberry-moonpies @iceprincessviviane @idkjustlovingbts @bookoffracturedescapes @btscentralforever @anjoellamorte @plexcaffeinate @comingupwithacoolnameishard @mellymousie @kiki-zb @felicityroth @rinkud @anaspectoflife @oreoqueen @welcometomyworld13 @reckkklessslove @hopeonthestreet67 @bex-tk1 @shawtylilsalty @jiminbluerose @savagemickey03 @hydrawaterdragon @xzmary @demarie04 @yu-justme @lilacdreams-00 @m4ggl3-g @shadowyjellyfishfest @kawaiikpoplover268 @amethystinesworld @starstruckfangirls @dvalitaes @iwishiwasrichasfuck @thebisexualonesworld @catribohope @luzzthemoon @shyminmin @ddaeing @ldysmfrst @bratty-tingz @friedlollipop @i-like-puppy-mg @channiespup @minjianhyung @skyys-universe @arcsiren

241 notes · View notes