Hidden by the Moon || MYG Werewolf AU

Part 24

She was quite nice actually. His girlfriend. Yoongi's girlfriend. Placing a cup of tea in my hands, she had led me outside, near to the fire pit. It was Yoongi's favourite place, and countless nights we would sit near the warmth of the dying coals, swathed in blankets and sigh at the twinkling lights against the velvety black. He probably did that with her now. The stars weren't ours anymore, he had someone else to gaze at. If I were the sun, she was the moon, covering me like an eclipse.

"Tae Mi your hair is so pretty, you must tell me how you style it!"

We both knew my hair was lank and dull, but she doesn't know it was from weeks of starving myself. It was hard to hate the angel. She took your worst qualities and spun them into a compliment, a joking smile, a twinkling laughter brighter than our stars. No wonder Yoongi's loves her. She is everything I wasn't. She was there when I wasn't. When I wished I was.

"What's with that face," she said jokingly, "Didn't your mother ever tell you if you frown when the wind blows you'll be stuck with an upside down smile?"

"My mother had PTSD." I muttered blankly.

I said it without thinking, my mind on other things, but immediately regret it when I see the perky smile drop from her perfect face. I guess the angel wasn't equipped to deal with these situations. Her pearl teeth bite into the soft pink pillows of her lips, lithe hands nervously adjusting chestnut locks, eyes dropping to the pine covered ground.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" I say.

"No, no, I'm the one who should be sorry, I was being-"

Walking in with a small smile on his face, Yoongi comes in with a bowl of chestnuts, presumably to roast on the fire. I had never roasted chestnuts with yoongi before; we had always done s'mores, toasting the soft marshmallow, rich chocolate and crackers, occasionally setting a few alight before feeding the hot oozing mess to each other, laughing at the smears of chocolate left on our cheeks. Maybe chestnuts was theirs'.

"Chestnuts?"

As soon as Yoongi walks in, the frown on her face turns upright, face lit up by something other than the firelight, and with that, the atmosphere seemed just a bit more warmer. She takes the already scored chestnuts, tossing the nuts into a cast iron pan, it's base blackened from use. We sit in comfortable silence, the sounds of cicadas and popping chestnuts, as well as their nutty smell permeates the air, intermingling with the strong scent of pine from the woods. With practised hand, she tosses the nuts onto a platter, sprinkling salt and a knob of garlic butter on top, which melts gorgeously all over the hot flesh.

"I forgot, I haven't introduced myself!" She says.

Of course she hadn't. She had gotten carried away, excited like a child showing her toys, whilst I was away elsewhere, mind occupied.

"My name is Ho Mi-Kyung, and yours?"

Chewing the soft buttered flesh, I finish my mouth fall before I answer, earning an awkward silence and faltering smile. Eventually, I take her hand in mine, shaking it, and answering with mine.

"Tae-mi." 

"That's such a pretty name, and it matches you so well!"

Her compliments merge into meaningless backing track, but I nod and deny in between pauses, occasionally contributing to her spew of optimism. Yoongi, clearly enjoying himself, bites his lip to hold in his laughter at your discomfort, head bent over the ceramic platter in a bid to hide himself. 

"Yoongi, don't you agree her eyes are the prettiest."

His head snaps up, all hints of amusement departed, an expression I can't explain coming over his face as he looks into my eyes, determining whether they were pretty or not. A pregnant pause comes over us, as Mi-Kyung patiently waits for her answer, persisting with her smile even as Yoongi's eyes stare intently into mine, taking in every detail.

"Maybe..."

His answer comes out as a whisper, barely heard over the crackling of the fire, but when I blink, he sits up immediately, flashing a small smile at his girlfriend.

"Not as pretty as yours."

If it was possible, her smile widened, and she climbed into Yoongi's open arms, head on his shoulder as his palms rubbed circles on her back. But even as his hands were on another, and her heart belonged to his, Yoongi's hazel orbs were trained on mine, desperation in them. How ever much I wanted Yoongi to discard her, to toss her away and embrace me instead, I couldn't. I couldn't to that to her. To an angel. So I drop my stare, Yoongi copying, his cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment and shame.

"I should go back to the pack house." I say in monotone.

Jumping up from Yoongi, Mi-Kyung takes my hand and looks up at me with sparkling eyes, the pout on her strawberry lips almost persuading me.

"Please stay! We have a guest bedroom, and Yoongi's fine with you staying here..."

She stops her honey talk to toss her head over to Yoongi's direction, who nods nonchalantly, pretending as if he doesn't care. The little angel beams at Yoongi's agreement, eyes lit by the light of a thousand stars, and grips my hand tighter like a vice, pulling me along into the house, chattering about a thousand and one things.

"You can borrow some of my clothes, I have some spare pyjamas... it's fine, I'll ask Yoongi to contact the betas... maybe we could have a midnight feast... no? okay then pancakes for breakfast..."

I allow her to pull me along to the guest bedroom, and walk into the bathroom to wash up.

"Toiletries in the cupboard overhead, and towels and linen in the under sink cabinet."

Mi-Kyung points at each cupboard, before finally excusing herself and closing the door with a click. Maybe it was the disappearance of her overwhelming positivity, or the constant chatter not allowing me to think. To properly process what has happened. I finally let myself go, tears free to run down my face in glistening streams. My mouth gaping open in a silent scream, a whimper escaping before I could bite down onto my fist. She was truly his. I couldn't be with Yoongi. Yoongi wasn't mine anymore.

I was truly breaking apart. Those months of solitude, alone with my thoughts in a room where the walls pressed against me and the covers strangled me, and only him. Only the thought of him keeping me sane, keeping me up. But now I couldn't have him. With a frustrated yell, I throw   a plant pot at the marbled swirled walls, satisfaction at the crack and waterfall of soil. I didn't care if she was watching me anymore, if Yoongi was watching me. Just let me fall apart. Let me fall.

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yarichin bitch club anyone?