Yoongi didnāt look back, not when he didnāt hear Arisa following him or even as heavy drops of rain began falling atop his head. His legs kept on their original intent and that was to take him back to his dorm room where he truthfully shouldnāt have left in the first place.
What did he expect to happen when he left his comfort zone? To leave his dorm and not run into anyone? To spend hours out of his comfort zone and be able to return home, feeling the same as when he left, content and relaxed? A bitter chuckle left his lips at his own stupidity.
The boyās steps remained calm and collected even as people began rushing for cover around him, his body appearing to be relaxed whereas his mind was racing one hundred miles an hour. Why was she here? How had they somehow managed to end up in the same place after all these years? Yoongiās eyes hadnāt failed to sight the tattoo at the base of her neck, the number ā4ā dully registering in his mind and a bitter smile raising on his lips at how ironic this was.
Hadnāt she left with intentions of never seeing him again?
Leaving so she didnāt have to bear the weight of a bad happening when Yoongi came crying to her?
To leave the burden that was a troublesome friend behind?
Satisfaction stirred in the pit of his stomach at the realization that leaving behind a burden wasnāt going to be so easy for her.
The pink haired student pushes past a group of panicking girls with little effort, his hands shaking with a mix of paranoia and the icy feel of the rain. FIngers crawl their way to rest in his pockets, searching for warmth in the wet jenim of his jeans. Yoongiās mind canāt help but wonder to the wound on the girlās palm or the sound of her voice when she spoke his name after so many years. His fingers draw to his own palms unconsciously, fingering the wetness collecting against the fabric before finding that his thoughts bring no emotion to him other than the vague feeling of resentment.
Why should he care when she left so suddenly? Without a goodbye or even the slight clue that she wasnāt going to keep her promise?
The night he needed her most, she wasnāt there.
He sat in pain at their usual meeting place, aching for her comforting touch and words that would never come.
I probably looked like an idiot. Yoongi thinks to himself, the rain finally beginning to soak through his shirt and freeze his skin. He momentarily wonders if maybe she had forgotten, forgotten to show up that night, forgotten to tell him goodbye. The thought is immediately pushed away however. It was impossible for her to forget, especially if he was as important as she had told him so many times before.
Did those words even mean anything?
Or were they just spoken to set his mind at ease?
Arisa was younger yet she had always had this affect on him, able to soothe him after a particularly hard beating or make him smile even after the words ābrat, useless, bastardā had been tossed at him so carelessly over and over again. She had a way of calming him down and at the time, he felt thankful.
But now he realizes that she only made him weak, which is why he was and still is torn up after she left. If only he had--
Yoongiās wretched out of his thoughts by a hand on his wrist, tugging him to a halt and spinning him around. The boy blinks away the rainwater on his eyelashes, focusing on the figure in front of him because who would just stop him like that? In the middle of the rain and everything?
āArisa.ā He speaks the name with such loathing he can feel his lips quivering as he speaks. Yoongi shakes off the hold she has on his wrist as if sheās burned him, leaving his pale skin tinglingly when he shoves it protectively against his chest. The two donāt speak for what seems like forever when his eyes fall upon the droplets rolling down her cheeks. Sheās crying.
Yoongi laughs, booming in time with a clap of thunder, before raising a hand to wipe some of the water droplets from his fringe; itās not exactly comfortable to stand in the rain he realizes quickly. āWhat? Why are you crying?ā He leans close, examining the tears with a cocked eyebrow. Ridiculous, shouldnāt I be the one crying? Yet why did he feel the familiar stinging of tears behind his glare?
āAre you crying because you failed to get rid of me? Hm?ā Tilting his head, dark orbs meeting with soft ones before heās leaning back to stare at her soaked form. āYou thought that last day would be the last time you would see me? Well, Iām sorry to fucking disappoint.āĀ
Why did it have to be her? The one time he wanted to leave his dorm to do something other than attend class, he runs into her? As another tear rolls down her cheek, he feels another part of his sanity slowly begin to crack before shattering.
