Shock the love out of me

 

„Marry me!“

I froze halfway up from the couch, brows furrowed, mouth hanging open. Min Yoongi stood in my hallway, t-shirt soaked through due to heat, and given his harsh breathing, a rather rushed journey to my appartment. I expected a usuall course of action when he appeared in my doorway- I would say hi, he would  mutter something and crush on my couch, complaining about this or that; or being quiet, depended on a day he had; I would then proceed to feed him, something, anything, that kid was way too skinny, he wold grumble but eat evey crumb; and then if the mood strikes us- a movie, game, or just plain talking. Occasionally I would get a special treat from him- going out, or a very rare treat that Suga provides once in a blue moon is meeting with his group members, maybe he doesn´t want to mix our two worlds together, truthfully I don´t know his reason for reluctance.

This is what I expected, maybe hoped a little to happen.

Not the punch in the gut in the form of an out of blue proposal.

„Huh?“ was my intelligent reply.

But really, what else to say to a friend that suddenly wants to become your husband? Yoongi made an impatient face, he strode  towards me, chest still heaving with harsh breaths. I landed back on my rump, Yoongi took a seat next to me, leaning closer, his gaze serious, he swallowed the urge to cough, sweat dripping from his temples, eyes jumping from one feature of my face to the other.

„Marry me! I want you to marry me!“ he blurted.

Ever since our first meeting I knew he was- different.

Seing the world as it is. And getting hurt by it more often than not.

At least back then it was like that.

 

It was before he debuted, everything seemed somehow bleak, the world, the future, he himself and then the accident happened.

What idiot would leave a kid laying on the ground after he crashed into them with a car?! I still keep having nightmares about it. Turning after hearing a loud bang and screech of tires. A scooter´s front wheel was still turning uselessly, the machine being tipped on it´s side, next to it a thin body in jacket, groaning. I remember running, falling to my knees, scraping them in the process, and frantically checking the boy for injuries.  His eyes blinked up at me, tears of pain welling in them. I don´t know if he remembers anything due to shock, but he argued with me even at that time, telling me he doesn´t need to go to the hospital.  Some of the other bystanders came to offer help, I asked them to call an ambulance. Tough luck , the boy is going to hospital wanting it or not.

I recollect he yelled at me after I payed his hospital bill. Catching a ride with the ambulance, I just couldn´t bring myself to let that boy go alone, they wanted the bills payed on the spot and I didn´t know what else to do.

„What was I supposed to do, leave you on that frikkin ground!?“

He asked for my cellphone.

„My number. I took yours.“  He shook the little device.

„What for?“ I looked at him dumfounded. He rolled his eyes, drawing in a breath. I realize now I was probably testing his patience.

„So I could repay you the money, when I have it.“ He blushed at the last half.

 

My friendship with Yoongi hasn´t started ordinarily, or easily. Suga is a difficult person, grumpy, y, but also honest,  kind and sweet when he wants to be. He is also exceptionally lazy, except for music.

Music is his lifeline, it flows in his veins.

That´s why I almost choked the living hell out of him when I found him on that bathroom floor after he sent me a very questionable message.

Till then our interactions face to face could be counted on the fingers of one hand. What started with a few messages regarding Yoongi´s stubborn dedication to pay me back, has gradually grown into full fledged conversations, about nothing and everything. The anonymyty that our almost non-existing relatioship provided, helped Yoongi to say things he would normally hold close to his chest. Maybe that´s why he wrote to me.

 

He was there. A thin figure laying on a cold tiled floor, staring at the ceiling, not blinking.

A wail tore from my throat. In a second I was stradling  his waist, palms hodling the cheeks of a very surprised Yoongi. Tears started falling from my eyes onto his face, my mouth scrunched, heaving sobs of relief leaving it. Yoongi, still in shock, sit us up, one of his hands going to the small of my back, the other around my shoulders, trying to calm me down.

 

Things changed after that.

He knew he had a safe place with me, I knew I would never let him lose it.

Our two worlds were so different, yet they intersected. Two bubbles that sometimes came close enough to become one.

 

But who would have thought?

 

I shook my head.

„But, Yoongi, why?“

„It has to be you, there is noone else.“ I was confused. Was it because I was convenient? But, no, Yoongi is young, why would he want to marry?

 

Yoongi saw the cogs turning in her head, sighing, he asked himself why he was doing this. The answer was sitting before him, head tilted in confusion, brows furrowed, a beginning of a wetness glistening in blue eyes. Yoongi has made himself a promise, during one of the evenings, when he came to her, tired, frustrated, the tiny tentacles of deep sorrow catching onto his soul. She looked at him and snorted.

„You look like a grumpy panda.“ She exclaimed, sitting him on a chair in her kitchen, chatting about this and that, placing a plate of something in front of him, gesturing for him to eat. Yoongi found himself listening more and more with ticking minutes. The evening ended with them bickering about the pros and cons of a hibernation. And he realized, this, this is the person.

He promised himself to wait, until he was more succesfull, until he made more money.

Their first album was coming out in a few days.  And he though, why wait any longer?

 

He took my hand in his, holding it gently, and looked at me like I was the biggest idiot on Earth.

Something clicked into place.

It wasn´t the typical love you see in the movies, or on the streets sometimes. No lust to speak of. The feelings in us started from something different, concern and obligation transfroming into friendship and fondness. In a blink on an eye we got used to each other, to our quirks, bad habits, hobbies, what makes us happy, sad, angry, amused.

Now as I was sitting in front of him, I realized.

This is the person I want to grow old with.

 

It was probably too long for his taste, Yoongi was gritting his teeth and looking down at my palms, blush covering his cheekbones.

„Will you ing give  me a reply?!“ I jolted from  his sudden outburst. Eyes wide and fearfull, I spooked easily. I saw he regretted his short-tempered reaction. He gulped in a deep breath, let it out and locked his eyes with mine.

„Please.“  The corners of my lips lifted into a slight smile.

„Are you sure, Min Yoongi? Once you tie yourself with me I won´t let go. I don´t throw my things away, I´m sentimental that way.“

„Things?“ One eyebrow lifted, a smirk in place. I shrugged my shoulders.

„Is that a yes?“ He asked, uncertainty peeking out from his eyes. I nodded enthusiastically, giving him a toothy smile and suddenly bursting into laughter.

„That happy, eh?“ He laughed too, leaning in and kissing my forehead.

„My wife.“ His voice rumbled next to my ear. I blushed fiercely, but in a second lost all colour.

„Yoongi. My parents, we need to tell my parents!“

Yoongi grimaced.

„Well .“