Congratulations

When I returned home, my mom was waiting by the door with an excited smile. “How was your first date?” She asked.

Her cheerful face fell when I silently walked past her. She followed me, asking what was wrong. I shook my head, but she persisted, even asking if I felt sick. So, I lied and told her everything went great and I had fun, hoping she would stop worrying. She didn’t look as if she believed me, but finally dropped the topic.

Dad was working late at the office so Mom and I sat on the couch and flipped through the channels on the TV, not really caring what was actually on. She didn’t bring my date up again, but that didn’t stop my brain from replaying the entire night, over and over.

I felt ridiculous for getting upset over something that seemed so simple; I already knew Yoongi didn’t like me back. My heart, however, refused to listen to my head. His image kept flashing through my mind; his smile, his laugh, his voice, especially his rapping.

My mom went to bed after a while, leaving me alone in the living room. Shortly after, I decided to follow her lead, and go to bed myself.

I began turning off all the lights and locking all the doors when I heard someone lightly tapping at the door. It was hesitant, and when I went to see who it was, no one was there. I rolled my eyes, thinking it was most likely someone trying to prank us. I locked the door and starting making my way upstairs.

I was almost to the top when I heard the knock again, this time a little louder. I started getting nervous, hoping it wasn’t someone trying to break in. When I looked out the window to check again, no one was on the porch, but I could see a retreating figure going down the sidewalk before they stopped. They stood there for a second or two then turned around and came back up the stairs again. The porch light didn’t illuminate their face, but I knew who it was from their outline.

I gulped, unlocked the door, and opened it before they could knock and run away again.

Yoongi’s hand was still raised in the air, the other buried in his pants pocket to keep it warm. He wasn’t even wearing a jacket; he was only in a plain white t-shirt, his cheeks were pink from the chill and he was shivering. He opened his mouth to say something, but I pulled him inside before he could and he stumbled past me. I ran back to the living room and grabbed the blanket off of the couch. I threw the blanket around his arms and pulled it tightly in front of him, making sure it covered any exposed skin. He muttered “thanks” and sighed into the warmth.

“I’ll go make you some hot chocolate.” I started moving to the kitchen, but he reached out from the blanket and pulled me back. His arms circled around the front of my shoulders so both of us were wrapped in the blanket, with my back pressed firmly against his chest. Despite his hands being cold, I still felt myself becoming hot from his body temperature and I held my breath, afraid the slightest movement would shatter the moment.

He let his head fall lightly onto my shoulder and nuzzled his nose into the crook of my neck. “You smell good.” he mumbled, his breath tickling the back of my neck and this time, I was the one shivering.

We stood like that for a minute, in silence, before I started to wonder about his sudden appearance. “Why did you come here?”

He lowered his arms from my shoulders to my waist, pulling me even tighter against his chest. “I have to tell you something.” He whispered in my ear, and it felt like I could die right there from a heart attack. I brought my hands to his and gripped them, finally allowing myself to lean back against him and relax.

“What’s that?” I sighed in content, my thumbs making small circles on the back of his hands.

Yoongi suddenly moved back and I frowned at the loss of warmth. I turned to face him, but he avoided eye contact. He dropped the blanket to the floor, bringing his hand to up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Do you like me?” He finally looked me in the eyes, a glint of something - was it hope? - in them.

I stood in front of him with my mouth agape, unable to form any coherent words. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but didn’t look away. I thought about lying and say I didn’t, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. I wanted to finally get it off of my chest.

“Yes.”

My face turned bright red as I looked anywhere but at him. I found a particular spot on the wall behind him that had paint chipping off. I focused completely on that, thinking about picking at it or covering it up.

Then he chuckled.

My eyes shot back up to find him laughing, his eyes almost closed. I pouted and crossed my arms, starting to get a little angry. “You don’