The frozen air decorated my skin with lace as my body was trembling from the sudden temperature drop. It was bitterly cold and humid, such a fascinating combination in the beginning days of December. Every surface, every once beautiful blade of grass was growing ice crystals, completely covered in white. Just like his soft hair. 

The lights flickered bringing me out of my slight trance, my eyes dancing across the horizon looking for the familiar dark figure. Yet there was no one. I felt a frown forming on my face, he was not here yet? My irises trace the announcement board, that flashing almost mocking the midnight commuters. 

‘Midnight service is running ten minutes late.’

The train was late again. Leaving me as a shivering mess on the platform with ten minutes of suffocating silence, eating at my lonely self. The harsh gust of wind causing my numb slender fingers to pull my red knitted scarf further up. There was silence again, my mind wandering off into the punitive dark thoughts. What was I doing with my life?

Yet the fighting positivity crept its way to my conscious. It could be worse, much worse. I had no dreams, no passion for the future but I had a job, a salary even if it was a laughable joke. 

But whether it could be worse, did not change the fact that I was standing alone in the darkness, an hour away from my rundown apartment, waiting for a train that was late, perhaps not even showing up.

The snowflakes were scattering into my face, my eyelashes quickly fluttering as I tried to get that breeze away from my eyes. There was so much positivity I could fake before it becomes a sick joke. Everything was bad. My numb fingers were rummaging through my bag, looking for that metallic device, and before I could begin to panic a soft sigh left my lips as my phone was pulled out. 

00:12

Thoughts began to swirl in my mind again, what would I do if the train did not arrive? Perhaps it was why the guy was not here. I bet he knew that the last train was canceled. Perhaps I should have skipped my shift in the neglected bar. It wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway. Those thoughts were beginning to form a pattern, irritating me. Choi Seolmi stop, stop overthinking. For once stop.

Wake up, please wake up,

At that very jarring time in the morning, joined with the unforgiving coldness, I was beginning to lose my self. My mindless thoughts ignoring my pleading. The strange silence of the world at midnight was driving me off the edge. I pulled my coat tighter around myself, trying to shield away from the chilly air as my breath of clouds surrounds me like a warm blanket. 

A ripped page of yesterday’s newspaper was being trilled in the air, causing my eyes to follow. It was almost calming to view that. Until the printed headlight of a ‘Missing composer Min’ took my breath away. I knew someone like that, did I not?

At some point of the time my eyes wandered over my boots, standing on the frozen platform, and in other my eyes found themselves staring at the dark figure hunching next to the midnight train line. My body automatically relaxing when the realisation of who was there fixated in my overworked mind, and yet the sudden gloominess surrounding the broken image threw me off. His boots barely standing behind the slightly visible yellow line. It was almost scary to see that if he took a couple of more steps, he would end up being crushed by the train. That guy was a mystery to me. Someone that I have been trying to solve for the past year. 

His snow white hair was slightly poking out through his dark hoodies hood. His eyes fixated onto the train tracks, while his hands were shoved inside his coat’s pockets. I could not see his eyes, but it was clear that whatever he had experienced today was unpleasant. His usual calm and composed frame no longer showed that.

At that moment my world was collapsing as I watched him. There should have been a bright light, light of hope my soul always found comfort in as I watched him from a distance, yet it all become taunting shadows, me in closer to him, it was like my mind conjured some images just to please me and only the slipping of my feet brought my attention to reality. I needed to stay upright, to stay away from him. Yet I could never do that.

The sound of metallic shrieking criers the arrival of the midnight service carriage, causing small shivers to run down my spine as I watched the doors reluctantly ease open, no one getting out apart from the escaped warmth before the guy standing in front of me got on. There was one small advantage of being awake at midnight, taking the last train. The thought of the generous amount of room, a guaranteed window seat and peaceful silence would make a lot of people happy, but yet as my feet pulled me closer inside the carriage of where he was sitting at, all of it seemed useless. So lonely. 

The engine hums to life soundly, the train takes a dive, crawling forward at a surprisingly excruciating pace. As I was standing dangerously unbalanced, searching for nothing. There was no one apart from him. My hands quickly gripped onto the first headrest, catching sight of him fully. He had dropped his hood away from his head, his blonde locks shining in odd colour under the flickering lights. The train was desperately begging to rest but yet we all shamelessly forced it through. Like a prisoner. 

The stranger looked the same, his pale skin reminding me of the beautiful snow outside. Yet when my eyes fixed on the visible dark under eyes circles, my heart suddenly squeezed. Something was bothering him. It was the second day in the row when he looked sickly stressed. He was wearing the same combination of dark clothes he always did. His jet black eyes continuing to stare at the bright shining screen of his phone, the black earphones shoved in his ears, he seemed so distant from this world. So fairy-tale like. And for not the first time in my life, I was left to wonder if he even existed in the first place. A broken angel or maybe a devil in disguise, no matter what he was still breath-taking.

 
I was left with the daily dilemma of trying to sit next to him or taking a large number of other empty seats. As usual, the most sensible decision was winning until, his slender fingers pulled an earphone out of his right ear, his dark and mysterious eyes flashing at my suddenly frozen frame. 

Our eyes met each other for what felt like minutes, possibly hours but in reality, it was just a second. However my mind was already firing off impulses, it would be rude if I ignored him. Yet he did not say anything before he was glancing down at his phone, leaving me in a distressed state of anxiety. Whatever he was looking at, it was distracting him, so I could have forced myself to sit down anywhere yet my shaking legs dragged me over to him. Stop, stop, and stop.

I stood still, towering over his sitting frame and yet he did not take his eyes off his device. Leaving me in an awkward situation again, I felt my tongue nervously brushing against my dry bottom lip. It was now or never.

Stop. Please.

“I-Is the seat taken?” As soon as the shuttering words left my lips, I felt stupid. I could have begged the world to swallow me up, yet my useless thoughts stopped when I saw the corner of his lips lifting up slightly, his eyes finally glancing up at me, causing sudden heat to rush into my cheeks, no doubt a stupid blush was beginning to form on my cheeks, just to make the situation even more miserable. 

“Sorry, it’s taken.” His silvery words crashed my hopes completely, my lips quickly sounding thoughtless apologies. 

“O-Oh, I’m sorry -  ”

His eyebrows quickly quirked up, teasingly “Do you see anyone else here apart from us?” and all I could do was grumble, my eyelids blinking as I stared at him with my lips slightly parted. My mind wanders off to a variety of combinations and scenarios before my feet finally seemed to work, I felt down onto the seat beside him. My eyes not daring to glance at his burning gaze. Great, I was surely making an impression, of being incapable of socialising. 

The silence felt again, the handsome stranger’s eyes focusing back down onto his phone. I expected him to put his earphone back in, but yet that did not happen. I swallowed my nervous saliva, resting my back against the seat, as my eyes quickly darted at him before with lack of courage darted away from him. It was embarrassing to feel so incompetent. I almost had the sudden urge to google how to talk to people, until the realisation of how stupid and embarrassing that would be, especially if he saw it. So instead I was left to sit in silence for a while. Running through the possible conversation starters in my brain, which seemed to have been buried away.

I quickly readjusted my bag, placing it onto my lap, my fingers nervously tapping against the fabric as I was silently trying to give my self-pep talk. Start with a name, damn it, it took me a whole year to get to this situation and yet I was ruining it. I felt completely hopeless, almost watching the invisible light being pulled away. His light. Perhaps it was better if our conversation ended at that, but yet I could not stop feeling selfish in wanting to get to know him. To know that mysterious guy who indirectly has kept me company at midnights. Whatever was happening with me that moment, was making me gain slight confidence and pushing all the second guesses away, I pulled through. 

“Um, I’m Choi Seolmi.” I mumbled, cringing slightly mentally at the sound that was made. It was so quiet, so small and pathetic. I hated it. I hated it all. There was no way he would have heard me, but yet he surprised me.

“Min Yoongi.” I felt my heart leap slightly, his voice was quiet and yet so warm. He barely said anything but it did not matter to me that moment. Yoongi, his name was Yoongi, and all of a sudden everything made so much sense. Of course, he was Yoongi. 

There was silence again surrounding us, yet it was pleasant for some reason. Keeping us both warm, my eyes stealing secret glances at Yoongi. His cheek resting gently over his palm, while his dark eyes were dancing across the window. I felt cheerful, his name enlighten something in my heart. 

This time no-one dared to break the silence even when we reached our final stop.

X

“Damn it!” I cursed under my breath, as I was running late, so late. My feet quickly kissing the snow, leaving imprints of my existence. It was a miracle that I did not manage to slip and break my bones. Or maybe it was a curse in disguise because that sounded like a much better option than trying to make a social attempt at communication with Yoongi.

Stop, stop.

It was exactly 00:00, my prayers for the train to be late again where answered when I saw the train pulling in, my feet traveling at speed as light, taking two steps at the time as I was descending the stairs, inhaling and exhaling cold air, almost heaving when trying to grasp it all. My scarf getting untangled, as my fingers quickly gripped onto the end, trying to keep that sticky warmth. I was sweating, looking like a mess but the minute my scarf slipped away through my fingers, my body stopped. It was like all of a sudden I froze.

Stop, stop damn it!

My glossy eyes searching for the missing scarf, while my mind continued to erroneously beg for the train to wait. Where is it? I couldn't leave without it, not when it was his -

I cursed for what felt like the tenth time that very early morning. My panicked filled eyes searching for that damned scarf until they land on the bright red fabric. I felt relieve invade my veins as I quickly jogged over to it, pulling the snowflakes covered mess before snapping my head towards the train. 

Yoongi’s tired frame was getting on the train, my eyes quickly darting around to see if anyone else would do so too. However, to no one’s surprise, it was empty. I felt my heart sink with the realisation that I will miss the train. I will miss the last train for the day.

Stop, please stop.

I was hopeless, my mind only coming up with the most stupid decision to call for him as my screaming calves lugged me forwards. There was no guarantee that he would even hear me, he was most likely listening to music or something along the lines, so when I hopelessly called out to him; “Yoongi!” I was surprised to see his head turns towards my direction, his dim eyes slightly lighten up when he notices me, while his earphones were nowhere in sight. 

Maybe if I was not in such a rush I would have realised that he was waiting for me. 

X

That moment seemed to have changed everything. We both ended up missing the train when I hurled down the last step, crashing down onto the ground and cold snow. It was embarrassing, almost a mortifying moment of my life. Just the thought of Yoongi seeing what a failure I was, made tears began to roll down my cheeks shamelessly, I wished for it all to be one terrible dream. I quickly wiped my tears and snot away when Yoongi rushed over to me. Forcing my facial muscles to form a fake smile at him, as he was asking something, everything appeared like an old slow movie as I watched him through my glossy eyes, the way his pink lips moved, his tongue forming a valve, something that resembled along my name but I was far too out of it to comprehend it. 

Soon enough I felt laughter bubbling up at the pit of my stomach, just the whole situation seemed ridiculous. Yoongi was staring at me, his eyebrows frowning and yet moments later the unashamed laughter was ringing across. His dark eyes were searching mine with pure innocence and surprise, yet I could not stop laughing. We both missed our last train. I should have been panicking but yet that melodic sound did not stop.

A gust of cold wind brought me to the harsh reality. The flickering light coming from the street light being the only source of light when clouds covered the Moon’s shine. My eyes quickly darted onto my legs, a tint of pink becoming prominent on my cheeks when Yoongi sat down next to me, his fingers outstretched as he was pointing his earphone at me.

 
“Here, might as well get comfortable since the next train is at seven.” His low voice rang, and yet my mind decided to focus on his pink nose which was a big contrast compared to his pale complexion. Before I could even stop myself, a soft chuckle rolled off. Yoongi looked so soft and innocent, so alive, and just like that, I felt my fingers brushing few soft blonde strands away from his forehead, my hand freezing on the spot when I realized what I just did. His eyes squinted, making me think of a grumpy cat, it all seemed so light, my heart thumping against my chest in a relaxed rhythm, complete dissimilarity to what was I feeling that moment.

Stop, Seolmi please stop.

“Sorry.” I bashfully murmured, quickly darting my head away from him while shoving my hands into my coat's pocket. I could not face him anymore, it was all far too embarrassing. So I just stared at the horizon in front. Counting seconds and minutes, trying to somehow calm my overworked mind down. Seven hours was nothing, as long as the weather did not get any worse, then it will all be alright. 

I flinched slightly when I felt something get shoved inside my ear, my eyes quickly dashing onto Yoongi who was glancing down at his phone’s screen, the light coming from the device highlighting his facial features, which had a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Maybe if I wasn’t so tired I would have realized that he was smiling at me. 

I felt my mouth part, something sort of disagreement about to sound, however when the first piano keys sound from his earphone, my mind seemed to relax, enjoying the beautiful melody. There were no words, but that song spoke thousands of emotions, it was almost like flipping through a memory book of Yoongi’s world. And just like that, I allowed myself to sink back, let the happiness soak right into my bones as Yoongi continued to allow me to listen to his thoughts and emotions, through music. To listen to his heart speaking about the way he viewed the world through his beautiful dark eyes. So when the final note of piano plays, my eyes snapped open, the savored moment ending, with my heart beating against my rib cage in admiration of the mysterious guy named Min Yoongi. My gaze turning onto his amazingly soft facial features, his chocolate irises swimming in strange emotions that only makes me wish to wrap my arms around him, pulling him close in a warm embrace. Maybe if I was braver, I would have done that. I should have done that.

“We should probably go and look for some warmth inside somewhere, otherwise we will freeze.” Yoongi’s croaky voice sounded, it was evident that he was slowly coming down with a cold, a sore throat and just the thought of him getting sick made me agree with his words in an instant. My fingers self-consciously going over to my scarf as I get the urge to gift it to him. But before I manage to fully unwrap the scarf, Yoongi’s cold fingers grazed over my palm, his head shaking once as a form of disproval before he was glancing down at his phone screen. 

“Are there any café’s open at this hour?” I questioned, Yoongi tapping onto his screen quickly, humming out some sort of reply which I did not pick on. My fingers instead wrapping my scarf back around my throat, a content sight leaving my lips once the warm envelops me. Yoongi’s word getting drowned by my thoughts, my eyes staring at his long eyelashes, then the bridge of his straight nose before Yoongi’s eyes caught me, causing me to suddenly feel flustered when he managed to catch me red-handed. Yet before I could begin to stop myself breathless words were rolling off my tongue. 

“Are you a 45-degree angle?” I watched the way his eyebrows frowned in confusion, his nose ruffling in the distaste as he gazed at me. My words tripping over each other as I quickly mumble a shameful answer.

“Because you’re acute-y!” 

There was a moment of silence where no-one said anything, Yoongi staring at me in pure horror and confusion, only causing me to finally realise of the mistake that I made. My cheeks turning into a soft peach colour as I blushed, my shaking legs pulling me up into a stiff bow before a tongue-tied apology was directed at him. My trembling fingers fiddling with my scarf before I was pulling it over my nose, trying to hide my shame away. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did I even think that pick-up like was any good? 

I quickly darted my eyes away from his hot gaze, wishing for it all to be a nightmare. Wishing for the world to swallow me hole right there. My mind begins to wander into panic mode when Yoongi continued to remain silent, my feet taking a horrifying step back as I turn my back to him, the escape route clear. However, before I could begin to really overthink, running away from the mess a burst of soft laughter was heard, making me freeze in my spot. 

“You’re odd.” Yoongi managed to state out through his small fits of laughter, his laughter sounding so quiet, yet so gentle and melodic that it forced me to take a moment to think if this was real or not. If this was just some sick imagination that my messed up mind made, but when Yoongi’s cold slender fingers wrapped around my wrist gently, pulling me towards him. The all the embarrassing thoughts went away, his eyes brighten up when I burst into laughter with him. It was worth it. He was worth it.

X

We both ended up walking together across the small town, looking for any open café’s, there were no chit-chatter but Yoongi’s presence alone was comforting for me. Our forearms gently brushing against each other at times as we walk close to one another. Causing for a small smile to tug at the corner of my pale lips, Yoongi’s eyes lingering at me once too many times. It was almost funny to realize that a few weeks ago I would be shaking with nerves having to walk next to him, but yet here I was, no, here we were.

 
My eyes gawked at the unbelievable neon sign flickering glowingly ‘Grandmas coffee’ right in front of us, together with an open sign, as my legs stopped in their tracks, Yoongi standing beside me, a cloud of some exhaling from his lips as he breathed out. His fingers reaching for the door handle, my mind suddenly think that throwing another pick-up line was appropriate.

“Want to grab a coffee?”

“Because I like you a latte!”

I watched Yoongi sighing under his breath, yet a small smile was still visible on his lips, causing for those shameless butterflies to bubble up at the pit of my stomach. Yoongi pulling the door open for me with a quiet incoherent mumble leaving his lips. Perhaps if I would have listened to him more, I would have heard a 'thank you'. 

The sudden heat coming from the café suddenly wrapped around me, my head darting towards Yoongi’s words. “If I knew you are like this, I would have ignored you that day.” There was no malicious undertone in his voice if anything it sounded light-hearted but yet I still could not stop my heart clinching, the slightly sting with the realization that what I was doing was stupid causing me to shamefully gaze down. Yoongi was out of my league. Yoongi was above all. I was just making him uncomfortable. 

“Sorry we’re closing down, please come back later.” Those words rang loudly across the room, causing my feet to stop moving in an awkward middle. My eyes quickly darting onto Yoongi who was rubbing his pale cold palms against each other, trying to get some friction for warmth, before he was gently resting his palm over the top of my crown, ruffling my hair in a playful manner, there were no words sounding from his lips, but the way his eyes slightly shined against the light once our eyes met, made those previous self-pity thoughts disappear. 

“Sorry, we missed our last train, can we stay here for a little while?” Yoongi wondered, his posture standing straight even when an angry figure of a young guy emerged from the counter. Yoongi’s palm leaving my hair with a slight disappointment rolling off the tip of my tongue. The young guy’s sharp eyes flashed dangerously at us, a disproving groan leaving his lips until his eyes became widened when they spotted Yoongi. Confusion flashing across his brown eyes before he was gapping at us, causing an uncomfortable feeling to build up at the pit of my stomach when he called out for Yoongi. 

“Yoongi?”

I watched Yoongi flinch suddenly when his name echoed in the small café, the young guy taking three wide steps over to us, his gaze never leaving Yoongi’s frame even when he stood a mere step away from him. His lips opening and closing, tears beginning to build up in his eyes as the tension in the room becomes suffocating. Until Yoongi’s bitterly hisses out, causing the young guy to recoil back suddenly, his eyes darting over to me in pure numbness, his eyes trailing down my slight shivering frame in what seemed like sudden sadness.

“Jiminnie sweetie, who’s here?” A sudden voice sounded in the distance, breaking the strange tension surrounding us all, my irises gazing at where Yoongi should have been standing, but instead I found myself standing alone, strange tears beginning to glaze my vision as I watched an elderly lady emerge behind the counter, her tired eyes taking in my appearance before, a loud gasp leaves her lips.

“Oh goodness, give her a hot cuppa.” 

X

Yoongi groans, nose scrunched up in fake annoyance when I sat down next to him, my lips forming a smile as I simply waved him off. A chuckle sounding once my visions spot his lips twitching slightly into a secret smile before he was gazing down at his phone again, his fingers scanning through something that appeared like a list of words. 

“You’re not like some shady dealer are you Yoongi? I swear you always have your phone with you.” I hummed playfully, my eyes quickly falling onto my bag as I try to search for my phone, my fingers ramming through the contest before I end up tipping half of the stuff out of my bag, a small black memory stick falling out beside Yoongi’s feet. His fingers quickly outstretching, just right at the same moment as I try to pick it up, our fingers accidentally brushing, causing a small jolt to run past my hand, Yoongi handing me the memory stick slowly.

“What’s this?” His sudden question catches me, unguard, my eyes wandering back down onto the memory stick that my fingers were holding and for a brief moment, my mind goes completely numb. Why did I even have it? I feel his gaze falling on me, my suddenly watery eyes snapping at his pale complexation with a sad smile. 

“Someone gave it to me.” 

My words bringing back silence as Yoongi suddenly frozen frame continues to stare at me. The pad of my fingers quickly brushing the few teardrops away from my eyes as I shake my head, laughter beginning to sound. There was no reason to cry, yet for some reason I found myself crying over something that even I had no idea. Yoongi’s cold touch bringing me back, his ice cold palm softly caressing my cheek before he was mumbling how weird I was being.

The carriage felt into comfortable silence once Yoongi went back to his phone. Curiosity beginning to build up once again when I noticed that Yoongi’s attention was on his phone. A pang of slight guilt creeping up at my heart as my mind wonders, my tongue shamefully mumbling out a question. 

“Is your girlfriend texting you?”

There was no reason to expect an answer. At least the less sane part of me did not want to hear him confirming my suspicions, yet loud laughter sounding from Yoongi made me stare at him in pure confusion. Yoongi always seemed to have been quite secretive about his personal life, which I did not mind, yet when he shook his head, the sudden warmth spread around my body. 

But did it even matter, I was his train companion, nothing more, nothing less? Right?

However, his next words left me shocked. 

"Nobody ever texts me, no one can ever reach me really." And just when his words began to sink in my mind, few dark dots beginning to swirl around my vision as a sudden pounding headache creeps up, he flashes me one of his rare smiles. 

"Don't worry, I'm not lonely."

X

“I’m a composer.” His words sounded light, slightly tired yet proud. My eyelids fluttering a few times as I watch him scan through his phone once again. Over the months of knowing him, I began to realize that his phone was part of him. Whilst Min Yoongi was part of me. Part of my world.

His words clicking in, only causing me to chuckle stupidly, of course, Yoongi was a composer. It sounded so fitting, so Yoongi like.

There was an overpowering silence after his words once again, my back resting against the seat comfortably, my eyelids feeling really heavy as sleep began to overtake me for a moment, my head slowly falling against Yoongi's shoulder. His soft fingers brushing through my hair as a form of comfort until the announcement of the train approaching the final stop blurs through.

My eyelids slowly snapping open against my will, a heartbreaking feeling enveloping me as I gaze through the window, slight spots of light appearing at night as I find myself sinking into loneliness, Yoongi gone. My eyelids closing once again as I find myself enjoying the silence.

Yoongi was a composer. 

X

“So you compose music? For idols and such?” I stupidly concluded the next night, watching Yoongi snort under his breath when I take a seat next to him uninvited, yet Yoongi slightly shuffled towards the window, allowing me to rest my bag against him as I search for my phone, my fingers as usual searching throughout the whole bag until I spot the device, a small victorious hiss sounding once I hold the phone in my hand. An image of his smiling face appearing on my lock screen, as I quickly unlock it, the pad of my fingers quickly searching through a music file that caught my attention when I was surfing through last night. 

Yoongi turned his head towards me, fully looking at me, the soft melody which I heard moments ago blearing through the speakers once I press play. Yoongi’s eyes closing slowly as he nods his head to the rhythm of his song. The song that he loved the most. The imagine almost seemed angelic as I watched him get lost in his music, the way his eyes would always shine and light up when he talked about his music, about his work was breath-taking. 

Yoongi was so alive when he spoke about music. 

So I watched him silently enjoy the sound, my heart swelling up with each passing minute when our last stop continued the approach, where our final stop always greeted us. And right when I felt the train begin to slow down, a sudden sharp corner forcing my body to lean slightly into Yoongi who was far lost in his eternal music, my shoulder brushing against his gently, the usual voice of a lady announcing that we were approaching the last stop of the ‘lost line’ blurring through. My heart clenching in grief as my fingers grip onto Yoongi’s shoulders, his empty eyes snapping open to gaze at me, my lips greedily mumbling those heart-breaking words;

"I love you."

And as I watched him no longer being able to say them back. Not being able to drag me out of my made up prison of past memories, where I always lost him at in the end. No matter how much I tried to change it all. I felt tears begin to form in my tear ducts, Yoongi appearing so distant. 

So right as the train slows down, I pressed my lips against his own cold ones, briefly, tears rolling down my cheeks, no longer being able to be ignored the sadness that never seemed to leave me alone.

So before I would be forced to say the never-ending goodbye to him.

Before the reality would catch up to me.

Until it does, leaving me alone. I mumbled;  

“I’ll see you tomorrow Yoongi.” Like I always did. Before I sob to the empty carriage. Yoongi’s last song continuing to play on shuffle, even when Jimin approaches me like he usually does. Gently wrapping me around his arms, guiding me out of the broken down train where Yoongi was last seen at so many months ago.

"Come on, let's go back to grandma."

Where Yoongi mumbled those words of love to me.