Exploring Me -  ♥ Yoongi  ♥ (pt. 1)

(HELLOOOOO, LONG TIME NO SEE. THIS WILL BE A 2-3 CHAPTER LENGTH STORY FEATURING A FIRST PERSON NARRATOR AND OUR YOONGI. AS THE STORY CONTINUES THERE WILL BE SCENES - IN THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS - JUST NOT HERE)

Reckless, impossible, dangerous, cold. They called him several things, recommending to keep yourself at least twenty feet away from him. The rumours which didn’t surface around him, it was many and they were neither reluctant nor quiet. Simple. He was a guy you shouldn’t be infiltrated with. That’s what they said.

We had art class together. I was sitting up front, he was sitting in the very back. I loved school, he demonstrated the opposite. He never talked to anyone, I was a running waterfall. I was a dutiful and dedicated student, the teachers called him a brat.

Perhaps, there was a hidden meaning behind all the warnings. But isn’t it a part of normal human nature? Being attracted and captivated by the mysterious and unknown, people are so afraid of experience. You can compare it to the Fall of Man.

I was tempted to try eating the fruit, God had forbidden. If I knew the outcome, why did I keep searching for it? Maybe that was the answers he could provide me with. Perhaps he was the key to the shrine filled with all these endless questions?

Wanting to be acquainted with my curiosity, I started following him after school whenever I could get away with it. The risk of getting caught was high but for the first time in my life I didn’t really care. Like what they said, I expected him to enter bars, make graffiti and exert violence.

Every little detail of every rumour, I expected to be true. What I found instead was a guy, enjoying the nature around him in an abandoned forest area, always sitting on the exact same place with music in his ear, wearing the exact same worn out black Doc Martens. I wanted to know more.

I didn't know how I managed to do it, but I was observing him from a distant everytime, my head tilted to one side as I began to draw his relaxed and free figure. One drawing developed into two, two to three etc, some more detailed than others but they all resembled the very same thing; his freedom, his privilege to be himself, the only one you could trust and believe in this superficial world.

I found it fascinating, the life I could only dream off. The life and existence I could never have. Normal people would have stamped me as a weird stalker but it wasn’t like that, I was a seeker. A searcher.

Sitting from afar, I detailed my current drawing with shadows I faded out with my wet thumb. I was deeply concentrated, my brows frowned as I studied every single strand of his beautiful messed up blonde hair and his profile. His features were stunning, simply just stunning.

After my little correction, I focused on my drawing once again, almost finishing it. I looked up once again, only to be met by pure air. He was gone and so was my hope. I’ve never experienced  this before. I always managed to sneak away in time before he left.

I began to panic as I threw the paper and writing tools in my backpack without it getting ruined of course, but I was in a hurry. I couldn’t let him find me. The things he wouldn’t do to me? Dusting the grass away from my , I turned around ready to leave without leaving any traces behind until a hoarse, almost sleepy voice stopped me.

“Take a picture. It lasts longer.” Too late.

Gulping the thick dry lump down my throat, I hesitantly turned around, praying for him to not end my pathetic short life. After all, I did play with fire.

But what I met wasn’t the expected. His eyes showed no signs of hatred, no signs of the evil indications people had convinced me and making me believe. His eyes and face was soft, he was looking at me, all of me or perhaps it was just an imaginary scenario but it felt so damn real.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll go now.” Bowing slightly, my small fingers tightened around the strap of my backpack containing all the evidence against me as I turned around embarrassed, walking with heavy steps. Hopefully, both him and I could forget this little encounter. That would be the best.

“Wait, you can’t go.” The mixture of calmness and firmness was high prominent in his approaching deep voice and before I knew it, his hand found my free wrist, pulling me around, forcing me to face him. And that’s when I realized my drawings were nothing like him. He had one of those faces you couldn’t copy no matter how hard you tried. You could always draw him but you wouldn’t be able to catch every single detail, every single expression. Impossible.

He hit all needed oxygen out of my lungs as I stared at him, bewildered, trying to catch up with my hasty respiratory that couldn’t relax and calm down with him this close.

He his slightly chapped lips with the tip of his tongue quickly before continuing.

“Mind to tell me why you’ve been following me the past days?” His eyes burned into mine, my glance wandering from his messy blonde hair to his patch covered denim jacket and down to the well-known Docs. If I didn’t know better I would’ve guessed he was cut out from the latest Vogue magazine.

“Uhm.. I..” I didn’t know what to say. If I told him that I was more than just fascinated by him, he would be beyond mad and disgusted and then I would’ve found out whether the rumours in relation to violence were true or not.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, I’ll go.” I repeated myself. Avoid eye contact, avoid anything. Avoid him. Just go. I must admit I was pretty nervous. He sighed, throwing his head back slightly in annoyance.

“Sure. I’m sure you don’t know.” He hissed out ironically as he turned his back on me, walking back to the same place he sat before. I admired him. Simple as that.

And how creepy it might sound, I wasn’t able to walk away. My feet were planted to the ground as my gaze focused on him once again. He noticed me and shook his head back and forth.

“If I were you I would go. You shouldn’t be seen with someone like me. “ It was first then, it hit me I’ve never really heard him talk this much before and the things I’ve heard had only been profanities directed against the authority at school. Right now, he had not even been cursing one single time. Although his voice was deep and full of mystique, it was far from what I've imagined. Just like they said, it should be scary, frightening, making me want to run away in fear. It didn’t. It made me more curious.

When I didn’t respond, too consumed with my thoughts, he frowned