Jiyong loves books.

He loves the intricate array of words beautifully arranged to follow one another. Loves the sound of crackling paper turning between his fingers. Loves the distinct smell of freshly printed pages of fiction waiting to amuse him. Loves the places he could venture just by reading one page, loves the different people he could become in just one night.

Jiyong’s book collection had never been that vast, it’s mainly dark themed books with horrible endings, endings that make you want to weep for a week after reading them. Seungri says that it’s depressing, and why don’t you try reading other books hyung? Like Harry Potter, you can borrow mine.

But Seungri doesn’t get it. Jiyong doesn’t want to read those sappy romance novels on Seungri’s shelfs. He likes the feeling of sadness and heartbreak he gets right after he finishes reading one of his books, as depressing as it sounds, it inspires him to write, he tells Seungri. Is that why our songs are always so sad? Seungri replies. Jiyong says something like no, not always, you don’t get it maknae, and waves him off, smirking to himself.

Seungri is silent for a moment, “But hyung,” he finally says, expression all but a little bit hurt, innocent eyes staring right into Jiyong’s slightly amused ones, “I thought I was your source of inspiration?” Seungri asks smally.

Jiyong threw away all of his books the next morning.

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Welp there we go, a little piece of nothingness. Hope you enjoyed it! Please check out my other stories too, hehe, and don't forget to comment!