"I want to see you." 

The crackle that came from the phone sent a pleasant warm bloom to her chest. She breathed out shakily, and barely managed to let herself mumble a grunt. The conversation continues on, and she pretends to listen to the idol who started rambling about his daily life. 

"-hree times. Three times! Can you believe that? I swear whoever marries him will have the worst luck ever." 

Her reply was a simple chuckle. Her felt like ice from the bench she was sitting and she was sure her fingertips were frost bitten now. But she wouldn't put down the phone. Not when she hears him, when she's let in on his world-even if its all complaints. 

His voice was lazy, slurred even. But it was deep, and everytime they stray to the topic-his music-she loved the way his voice naturally becomes brighter, more alive, more like Yoongi. 

"Where are you, by the way? It's awfully quiet." 

She wouldn't tell him where, of course. He didn't like where she was after all. 

So she didn't reply. She rub her hands together, phone securely placed on her shoulder. She watches the snowflakes fall to the ground as Yoongi continues to warm her ear with stories she missed. 

"I miss you." Yoongi's voice cracks, and everything seems a bit more colder. She takes a deep cold breath. 

"Sometimes, I feel like you're really there." He continues, voice wavering. He sounded pained, hopeful. She wished she could reach out to him, reassure him. 

"They told me to stop already." He shares, voice dripping with melancholy. Yoongi waits for an answer. So she gives it. 

"You should have." She whispered, the words so light and airy, almost non-existent. 

"I want to see you." Yoongi breathes, and she looks at the dark sky, the snowflake that melts into the ground. She can imagine Yoongi's face and his laughter, his gummy smile and his eyes that filled her warm and complete. She can see the boy she loved; the boy who had lost. 

"I want to see you."