“So you shouldn’t give up too,” Yoongi continued.

Suddenly, a lump formed inside your throat. You tried to swallow it with such difficulty. You can’t understand how he was able to make you emotional. It’s just words, you talked to yourself. It’s just words and you’re not intended to be swayed by it.

You realized you were still in an eye-contact with him. Yoongi have already let go of your hands. The warmth the interaction provided you was still present, hot in the part of your wrist where he touched you. You might be covered in several layers of cloth but he was able to penetrate into it. You can feel blood slowly rush into your cheeks as you fight not to transfer your gaze to anything else but him.

There was something peculiar with Yoongi.

It’s not just the way he acts or the way he talks or the way he dresses himself- loose trench coats and ripped jeans. It was the way he stares at you, like he can read every single thought you have in your brain. His eyes pierce through you- searching for answers.

And with the way he was straightly staring at you, you can’t help but feel sudden awkwardness and the urge to run away and hide where he can’t see you.

“W-what are you looking at?” You stuttered. For a moment, you were afraid that Yoongi might have caught up with your nervousness.

Luckily, he didn’t. “I was looking at your eyes,” he replied, nonchalant. “They’re beautiful.”

You teared your eyes away from him. Part of you wanted to resent him for causing all these fuss inside you and making you anxious while the winning part of you can’t help but repeat his words. Funny how you claimed his words to be nothing but mere cluster of letters seconds ago yet now, it’s occupying the corners of your mind.

They’re beautiful. You reminded yourself of those two words.

Yoongi stretched his hand. He yawned. You were able to catch a glimpse of his bloody knuckles as he covered his mouth with it. Limping, he walked towards the bench. He motioned for you to come sit with him. The bench was still damp from the rain the other day, and there wasn’t enough space for two. You declined politely.

“Were the rumors true?” Yoongi asked.

You remained silent, refusing to answer his question. Yoongi nodded, understanding that you already gave your answer. You watched him pick up a fallen twig on the ground.

“Do you know any producer you can recommend me to?” Yoongi asked you again.

“Why?”

Yoongi looked up. He was using the twig to scratch his back. “I make music and I was wondering if you know anyone. I mean, you were a trainee, right? I can’t remember the agency but I’m sure you know someone there. I’m not trying to be rude here.” The twig broke in a loud snap. Yoongi grumbled as he painfully reached the other part of the twig that fell inside his t-shirt. Nonetheless, he was still eager to continue the conversation. “So instead of buying me lunch-”

“Hey!” You shouted, cutting him mid-sentence. “Isn’t this enough?”

“Huh?”

You can’t decide whether Yoongi is pretending to be dumb or if he really is stupid.

“You told me earlier to accompany you here and I agreed because you promised to drop the dare of me treating you to lunch, but now you’re telling me this? Do you think you’re being funny?”

“What do you do?”

You shook your head as a scowl begins to materialize in your face. You can’t believe this man. A while ago you were talking to him in an almost-shouting voice, desperate to show him your frustration with the way he kept on asking you favors yet he had the nerve to ask you a completely non-related question. How thick-skinned! And the fact