Seokjin remembers that one fated week, bittersweetly as hell.
He was asleep one day, a Sunday, in his huge, comfortable bed that he was accustomed to falling asleep
in, but he wakes up to see two close figures sleeping next to him. One pressing an ear to his chest and the other had his hand casually slung around him. Seokjin sighed.
“How the hell am I supposed to get out of this situation?” He laments, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the sunlight that was peeking through the blinds.
Yoongi’s old high school buddy had recently died in what seemed to be a shooting. The saddest part was that he had a fiancée.
In high school, Yoongi admits, he and his friends were a bit
—always fighting and vandalizing property, as well as just being general asshole students that no teacher would like to have. They fell out of their
mentality pretty quickly though. But Yoongi’s friend, Dojung, apparently still dabbled in that shit.
Yoongi’s been even more silent since then, but he’s unconsciously become cuddly and dependent—always ending up in Seokjin’s room on his bed just for the comfort of another person,
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