Jung Hoseok.

That's where the trouble started. That name, that disgustingly beautiful name.
Some people think of trouble as a bad thing, a hurricane to barrel out of nowhere amidst the sunny skies, leaving little to very much damage.
Jung Hoseok was a hurricane. And then a tornado, then an earthquake.

 

To Min Yoongi, it was beautiful - he was beautiful. So damn beautiful. The strong winds that blew him to the ground, the sound of the waves crashing so loudly it would echo in his ears for what'd seemed like an eternity to a mortal being. The way Hoseok's whispers melted in with the wind, every smile taking a piece of the earth they had all lived on and shook it, causing Yoongi to fall.
Yoongi had liked the fall - loved the person who caused it.

 

Jung Hoseok was a beautiful disaster. Maybe not one that had left physical damage on your house, your garage, or whatever else that might be damaged by a storm. He was the type that had entered your life unknowingly, the type that had suddenly become your sun, stars, and the sky. He was the calm sea breeze on sunny days, the flowers that had come to bloom in April. The fresh dew set in grass on a calm spring morning. Not too cold, yet not too warm. Depending on the person you were, you could opt for a light jacket during that time, the gust delightedly chilly in a strange yet pleasant way. Despite that, it was undeniably perfect. It wasn't just a clear sky - no, no; clouds of different shapes and sizes littered the pastel blue as if the sky were a canvas, the pure white clouds dotting in random places, blending in with the prepossessing atmosphere that was the impeccable hue of light blue and a splash of violet. It was astonishingly winsome, and Yoongi had declared it his new home - Hoseok was his home, and had always welcomed him with warm and loving arms whenever he had needed it most, no questions asked.

 

Then was the hurricane. And then a tornado, then an earthquake.

 

Yoongi felt as if his life was degraded to a speck of dust, if not nothing once the storm struck, struck again and again, having no mercy on his soul. As if the beauty before it had never existed, the remains of it having blown away with the heavy winds that tore his house down and crumbled with the foundations the earthquake had ruined, washed away by the towering waves of the hurricane.

 

Yoongi had tried to run, tried to hide from the storm that he had always knew deep down was going to come and take a hold of him - yet he could never prepare himself for it, never had the heart to. Deep inside, he knew the damage of everything was his fault, and that there wouldn't have even been a storm if he had ignored the boy with the blissful smile that had made flowers bloom, hadn't loved Jung Hoseok, a person that even the sun itself couldn't rival.

 

He'd be damned if he didn't think Hoseok was a beautiful disaster. He'd also be damned if he wouldn't go back and time and had done those same things again.

He had loved Jung Hoseok.

There was nothing that he wouldn't reverse to see him one last time.

 

- - - - -

 

People describe meeting their soulmates as the best experience to ever come to their life; as if their other half was completed and all the fantasies they had dreamed about came into play, the world bursting out into colors around them as they first spoke, the sudden realization dawning on them that their lives would never be the same. It'd be happier, more complete.

 

Yoongi's grandma used to tell him stories about how she met his grandpa - about how they instantly felt attracted like magnets of the opposite poles as soon as they made eye contact.

 

"Oh, the colors you'd see are just marvelous!" She used to exclaim with nothing but endearment. "There's basic colors like red, blue, yellow, green, but there's so much more beyond that. There's jaw-dropping shades of the lightest purple, mixed in with tints of pink. The sky is beautiful, too. So beautiful. You'd love it, Yoongi. It's all so beautiful."

 

She died five days after that. Yoongi had always thought the whole soulmate thing was scary, anyway. Despite how badly he wanted one to feel the same way that everybody had always described to him. It seemed perfect. Yoongi liked that.

 

Ever since he was young, he couldn't even phantom the idea of how the rest of your life laid in somebody else's hands - somebody you didn't even know, nonetheless. It was all weird, so weird, yet everybody had seemed to fantasize about it, imagining what colors had looked like and not the monotonous and default shades of black and white.

 

You couldn't really imagine color without color, which was the tricky thing. You could only use words, but Yoongi was okay with just words. Really.

 

Sometimes, he had imagined what it would be like if he'd met his soul mate - if it would be earth shattering like everyone had described it, a cherry blossoming in the center of his heart as they exchanged names or whatever it was that soul mates had done. He was scared that his soul mate might hate him, or that he was some sort of next-level head who shouldn't even have a soul mate in the first place.

 

Scared that maybe his soul mate wouldn't even want him, didn't even want a soul mate.

 

He'd tried to run from that fact, but it was undeniably true. No matter how perfect most people described meeting their soul mate had turned out to be, there was always that slim possibility Yoongi's could be a raging psychopath.

 

Yoongi didn't have a thing for raging psychopaths, no matter how hot Evan Peters was on American Horror Story season one.

 

Come on, he was pretty hot.

 

He'd concentrated so much on not trying to find his soul mate, much less think about them, that he hadn't even considered the possibility that they were much closer than he had thought.

 

Oh, much, much closer.

 

Yoongi hadn't really thought much of anything when his friend, Jimin, had texted him and said that his friend would be joining them for their daily coffee break. It was nothing to think about anyways, all they were doing were grabbing coffee to not die in the hell that was University. Hell, maybe he could even make a new friend - he needed those. At the ripe age of twenty-four years old, Min Yoongi had declared himself as a lonely bastard who was probably going to spend most of his forties drinking away his past mistakes.

 

Yoongi had decided that when he was in his forties, he definitely did not want to be drinking away his past mistakes in a ty downtown bar that would probably reek of sweat and...baby powder, oddly enough. That's just gross. Yoongi doesn't like gross. That's gross.

 

"Yoongi!" Someone had yelled at him from across the courtyard. Someone meaning Jimin, of course. Him and Jungkook were the only friends Yoongi really had, antisocial most of the time yet contempt with the little circle of friends that he'd had now rather than acquaintances with lots of people that he'd barely knew. It's not like Yoongi couldn't make friends or anything, it was just that Yoongi couldn't make friends.

 

Yeah, he was antisocial for the most part.

 

Yoongi waved at Jimin, walking over to him with a slow-paced strut. About halfway across the courtyard, he'd felt something wet drop onto the tip of his nose. Then his cheek, and then slowly everywhere else on his body.

 

It started to rain, so Yoongi's lazy walking had turned into a full sprint.

 

He had just bought that jacket.

 

"I had just bought this jacket!" Yoongi complained, voicing his thoughts. Jimin gave him a sympathetic pat on the back as he grumbled, rain starting to get more fierce with each passing second.

 

"As much as I'd love to stand here and listen to you complain about your jacket getting poured on by this  rain, if we stand here any longer it'll only get worse, ironically. Plus, Hoseok is waiting for us at the café."

 

"Hoseok?"

 

"Oh, my friend. Is there something wrong?"

 

"No, nothing. Lets go." As they put up their hoodies and sprinted through campus to the local café, Yoongi tried to deny how tingly he felt after the name Hoseok rolled off his tongue, kind of like one of those chocolates that were hard on the outside, but the insides melted directly onto your tongue, sending you into a sweet bliss that gave you a little piece of heaven.

 

Yoongi had loved those chocolates, and pretended he didn't like how the name Hoseok tasted on his tongue.

 

- - - - -

 

It was practically empty when they had entered the coffee shop, save for the boy on his phone by one of the window seats, in which Yoongi had only assumed was Hoseok. His facial features were soft, yet hard in the most confusingly delicate way. It was almost as if he was the sun, and that his personal mission was to lure everybody into his rays. He was strikingly beautiful, bluntly put.

 

Jimin and Yoongi had both ordered their drinks (I know, most people would like to think Jimin loves sweet things and Yoongi opts for black coffee, but really, it's the opposite way around. Yoongi loved sweet things, it kept it going for the most part. Jimin had just chugged straight caffeine and hoped he wouldn't actually ing collapse in his math class that he was barely passing on), and walked over to where Hoseok was sitting. After you, Jimin had gestured to Yoongi once they'd made their way there. As Yoongi sat down in the booth, Hoseok looked up from his phone, just realizing their presence. Hoseok offered Yoongi a soft smile, and he'd taken it swiftly, smiling back in exchange.

 

After a few awkward seconds between the three of them, Jimin cleared his throat, looking back and forth between Hoseok and Yoongi.

 

"Hoseok..." He'd started, "This is Min Yoongi. Yoongi, this is Jung Hoseok, he's my other best friend."

 

"Hi Yoongi! It's nice to meet-"

 

And then, he stopped. Hoseok had stopped talking, stopped smiling - hell, it looked like he had even stopped breathing for a tiny bit. Yoongi quickly wondered if he had done anything wrong, if Hoseok had caught him staring at the faint freckles that decorated his right cheek so delicately a bit earlier- maybe Yoongi smelled like rotten sardines and he needed to shower? He hadn't a clue.

 

So he said the only thing that was logical to him in that moment, despite it not really being logical in the slightest.

 

"It's really nice to meet you too, I'm-"

 

Then, Yoongi stopped as well.

 

He blinked his eyes once, and then when he opened them Hoseok's lips were a sweet, glossy color that Yoongi wouldn't be able to place, but god, was it beautiful. So damn beautiful, gorgeously so. He blinked again, and suddenly his skin was painted in an engaging tone that could only be described as ing breath-taking; the way his features blended together was alluring in the most dangerous, alarming way.

 

Suddenly, the thing that could only be described as color filled in the black and white spots of Yoongi's world, trickling in slowly, and then all at once. The color ran down like wet mascara on a girl's face; oozing down at a speed that seemed so plodding, yet if you had closed your eyes even once, you would miss it - miss the way the world had suddenly filled itself with extravagant hues, ones that you couldn't even imagine in the dreams that would get you sent to a mental hospital. How the day that some might have called dreary had suddenly become full of animation in Yoongi's eyes, the way his heart convulsed and trembled at the sight of the new world in front of him.

 

That world was Hoseok. The color of the rain, the sky, the booth they were sitting at - it was all Hoseok.

 

Yoongi found it prepossessing, much so it could almost move him to tears. Yet it was so scary, so ing terrifying - beautifully so. He was so frightened to even open his mouth - alarmed to his heart as he stared at his soulmate agape. He was shocked to the very core, mind suddenly spilling over with panic and trepidation of the worst that could happen. Hoseok could hate him. Hoseok could never want anything to do with him, could walk out of the much too-friendly café right now and Yoongi would never see him again. But, god,would Yoongi want to see him again. It was as if he had suddenly became the sun in the sky that now had color, and god forbid if he had it ripped away from him as if he was a child getting his candy taken away.

 

That's the scary thing about soul mates. The universe decides to match you up together, yet it can't control the mindset and actions of the people.
The universe hadn't controlled anything - just gave everybody the little extra push they needed, whether it was wanted or not.

 

Yet, all of Yoongi's doubts seemed to have washed away with the calm waves of an ocean far away, panic becoming one with the tide as it glided from his body all the while Hoseok smiled. Smiled a smile so ing beautiful, it was beyond description - not even all the beautiful colors in the world could describe how ing light Yoongi had felt in that moment, how he felt so happy that he could cry, as if his whole life lead up to this unexplainable perfect moment where two humans made for each other meet, passion in their fingertips and love that was already carved into their hearts shown in their eyes.

 

It was surreal. More than engaging.

 

"Hi." Hoseok said after what seemed like an eternity, but only a brief second at the same time.

 

"Hi," Yoongi responded.

 

"I think you're my soul mate."

 

"Yeah," Yoongi breathed. "I think so too."

 

And so, the flowers bloomed between them, a connection that could only continue to blossom from there on out.

Soft rain drizzled down the café window as Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi, soul mates, had become one that pretty afternoon.