.

.

.

Sometimes the rain passed, sometimes it didn't. 

It had a tendancy to spontaniously go on and off, as if it didn't have a mind of it's own.

As if it were like a light switch. 

On,

Off.

On,

Off.

Tip,

Tap.

Tip,

Tap.

One,

Two,

three,

four...

Taehyung blinked once. The droplets of water dragged down the glass, following no particular path before they soon dissapeared behind the sill. Outside, the skies were grey with torment: letting loose the small sprinkle before the shower. Giving a small glimpse of what had yet to come.

Inside, it was warm; uncomfortably so. Taehyung shifted slightly in his seat, moving his legs to the side as he felt the fabric of his pants stick to his skin. The room buzzed with the monotone sound of a lecture, the teachers words fading into the pattering of the rain. Overall,

it was boring.

And Taehyung didn't like it. 

Didn't like the systematic routine that the school carved into his day.

Had it been a year earlier, and it wouldn't have bothered him; didn't bother him. Loud companions and cheery friends were enough to distract from the blur of the everyday schedule. Whether it had been the weekly hang-outs or the daily rambunctious doings during their lunch period, there was always something there--just barely blocking the view; the banausic perspective of a meager student's life. 

Now, a year later, they were gone. Friends drifted to opposite sides of every spectrum. Taehyung no longer anticipated the short free time in hopes of accompanying his classmates in a fruitless conversation, or ever got giddy over the text plans of the friday movie night. No, those days of blissful ignorance were no longer present in the eighteen-yearold's life. Now, Taehyung's mind was focused outside; outide the silly friend-group, outside the school and outside his parent's expectations. 

He was focused on Yoongi. 

The charming sound of the school's bell rang out of the intercom, lecture cutting short as the students around him began to pack their things; rushing out to meet with fellow classmates or for the managable lifestyle of lazying around in their homes. Taehyung slowly brought himself to wake up, shaking off the dull sleep-like state of being in class as he reached for his bag; slinging it over a broad shoulder before leaving the room--gaze set forward and intentionally blocking out the wary looks from old allys.

He didn't talk to them.

They didn't reach out in exchange.

On,

Off.

On, 

Off.

Pit,

Pat.

Pit,

Pat.

Small drops sprinkled themselves over the court yard sparcely, darkening the sidewalk before melting into the lighter shade of concrete. Taehyung fixed the strap of his bag loose from his shoulder, letting the drag of gravity slouch it downwards in a careless action. The majority of people, whether walking towards or away from the school building, had brought umbrellas; propping the useful tool open and holding it sturdy above their heads--repelling the rain and wetness with a yen that seemed a bit too orthodox to be questioned. But there, leaning against the gap in the black fence without a shelter or umbrella overhead, stood the person of Taehyung's focus. 

Min Yoongi.

People went around him as they passed, sending varying looks his way as they marched through the school gates. Taehyung smiled at that: at the curious attention that Min Yoongi so uninterestedly received by simply standing there.

Maybe it was the way he looked, Taehyung thought. Yoongi had hair the color of a pastel mint, standing out amongst an old-fashioned crowd of naturals and traditions. He looked different, and was different; friendly in a sense but benignly detached at best and aloof and unapproachable at worst. He had a desultory air around him, attracting curious faces with his unsure chaos and alluring determination like moths to a flame.

None ever got too close, though; in fear of getting burned.

Yoongi liked the space.

And Taehyung didn't mind the heat.

There's a look shared between the two as their eyes connect; one of understanding, of knowing the circumstance--and eachother. Taehyung greets Yoongi with his new and usual expression: the one that's pulled back into a rectangular smile of sheer adoration, but restrained at the corners of his eyes. Yoongi only smirks in return; the corner of his small lips curling up towards one side. They don't embrace eachother, nor share any actual words; but just walk forward: with Yoongi slightly lagging behind in steps.

"There's this place downtown," Taehyung starts, pausing as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. It's only now when they're away from school grounds and adding to the street crowd that he bothers to speak. "I heard they have good vinyls."

Yoongi hums in response, and that's the only answer Taehyung knows he'll get. 

It must just be one of those days.

It would've been a small walk to the store--a little over a mile, but Yoongi insists on driving anyways. Besides, Taehyung found it hard to reject an offer like that from his friend, as car-rides were very well their thing. Whether to talk serious subjects or not, or to even just sit in a comfortable silence--Taehyung loved it all. Loved the off-smell of the vehicle that was odd yet familiar, something akin to a new car driven through too many city nights. Loved the look of complete focus that held Yoongi's face captive as he drove, arms loose at his sides but grip tight around the wheel. It was all small and little and maybe even unimportant--but Taehyung remembered them all. Memorized the very details that mesmerized him for reasons unknown.

Yoongi had parked out around the corner of an old bar, the pink lights of its sign blinking as each drop of rain struck the bulbs through broken plastic. Taehyung couldn't help but to watch the flickers as the other unlocks the car.

On,

Off,

On,

Off.

Pit,

Pat,

Pit,

Pat.

Click.

Yoongi unbuckled himself, and then both slide out of the vehicle. Taehyung is honestly surprised that they can hear the sound of the doors clapping shut, as the sound of the city around them has risen to an obnoxious volume. Cars honk and tires screech, teenagers shout and laugh and skip down the sidewalk, seeming so drastically different from the two making their way to the store that it was laughable. Yoongi doesn't pay any of them heed though as he opens the shop door, bells chiming as his pale hand keeps the glass tugged back long enough for Taehyung to walk through. Said brunet grins at the small action and playfully hooks a finger around Yoongi's collar, pulling the other along as he walked inside. 

"I don't know," Yoongi says, in reply to the other's question. They've been in the store for no longer than ten minutes, Yoongi taking so much time as he browsed that Taehyung had asked if he was looking for something specific. "Hopefully something good. Maybe something new." Yoongi shrugs, the gesture artless as his fingers peel each paper-covered vinyl back enough so that he can peek at the cover, reading each title before mindlessly flipping to the next one.

Something new. Min Yoongi was always on the search for something new. He found it, time and time again he'd find something new--some different, indie rap vinyl to play the minute he gets home. But Taehyung knows. Knows that even though Yoongi has stacks of new and new and newer, he always went back to old ones. Melodies he knew and hummed whenever bored, lyrics he always sang and mouthed everytime he showered. CD's from his childhood that he'd put on everytime he was in a good mood and wanted to go for a drive, or endless playlists of loud and spiteful beats he'd keep on his ipod for whenever he got into a mood. 

Taehyung knew.

Knew that despite the seemlessly endless group  of people that got the rare opportunity to speak to Yoongi over text messages, or got to listen to the latest song he's been working on--knew that he was the one. He was the old record that Yoongi returned to time and time again, was the person he'd call first whenever he felt like sharing his giddy mood, and was the shoulder Yoongi chose to lean against whenever he couldn't stand on his own. There may be new people, new friends and new buddies to relieve stress with, but Taehyung knew that Yoongi would always come back. Always circle back to their life-long friendship without thinking about it. 

"Ah! One of my friends was telling me about this artist, I can't believe I found it here." Yoongi waves a colorful vinyl case in front of Taehyung, his cute gummy smile adorning his face with eyes to match. "Lets go check out, this is all I'll need for now." He says, eyes attatched to the colorful wording on the case but slender hands reaching out for Taehyung, quickly finding him and gripping onto his forearm.

And as they check out of the store, cashier sharing a mutually passionate conversation with Yoongi about music, Taehyung smiles;

Becayse he knows. 

Kim Taehyung knows Min Yoongi.

And knows that he's completely, and utterly in love with him.