Broken Keys | MYG ✔

11• Fois

A/N: Fois: (French), 'Time', used in musical terms.

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We got inside Yoongi's silent house. And Yoongi went inside while I stood in his living room, he turned back to me,squinting his eyes at me,"you coming?"

"Where?"

"To change. You're making the whole place wet with your clothes."

"Oh," I looked down at my feet, sure enough, the rain drops that soaked my clothes were dripping everywhere. I hesitantly followed Yoongi to his room.

He threw a shirt and sweat pants at me and said,"this is what I could give you for now." He turned back to his closet, picking some clothes for himself.

I nodded, even though his back was facing me, and said,"thank you, Yoongi."

He then turned to me,"do you know how many times you said thank you to me? That and 'sorry'. I'm not one of you, rich people, so you can deal with me normally."

I looked at him in mere confusion and uttered, "but I am treating you normally."

He shook his head at me and then pointed at a door,"bathroom's over there."

I gulped, nodding again and holding myself from saying another thank you. It seemed as if he didn't like what pleased others. And I just didn't know how to deal with him.

I got inside the bathroom and changed into his clothes, and I couldn't help but notice how the shirt smelled like him.

Wait, how did I even know his smell??

I shook the thought off, drying my wet hair with a towel and getting back to Yoongi's room.

He wasn't there, though. But I stood there and looked around; it was a plain-looking room with a bed, a closet and a desk.

But I expected to find a piano somewhere, he played it as if he practiced piano daily.

I noticed a framed photo at his desk and held it, seeing a cute looking boy with a pale, but happy looking face. He was sitting in an old man's lap who wore glasses and laughed along with the cute kid.

They looked so much alike.

Then I put the frame down when I saw an open drawer, showing many disordered papers with symbols.

Those were notes... Compositions.

I reached with my hand to take them but was stopped by a hand holding my wrist tightly,"what do you think you're doing?" I tilted my head, seeing Yoongi's face that was inches away from mine.

I couldn't say anything.

He left my hand and backed away a little."is this what you do when you're invited to a person's house? Invading their privacy? I don't remember I ever touched your things."

I looked down in embarrassment, biting my lower lip.

"S-sorry.." I mumbled.

He sighed at me,"here we go again with the sorry. Just.. Don't ever touch my things again."

I nodded, feeling a lump of heavy air forming in my throat, forcing some tears to come out but I fought them back, not letting one tear escape.

"Anyway, come to the kitchen, you're probably hungry. I made some fried rice."

I raised my eyebrows at him as he walked towards the kitchen and I followed,"you can cook?"

"Not too much, just enough to make me survive alone. So, the trash bin is over there if you ever needed to throw up," he gestured towards a trash bin that was close to the kitchen table.

I sat in front of the two bowls of rice on the table and Yoongi sat opposite from my seat, digging into his food as soon as he sat.

I started eating slowly, and nervously.

My head jerked up at Yoongi,"this is not bad at all."

His eyebrows rose,"really? Oh, well, I guess I'm getting better at it." He shrugged.

I smiled as I continued eating my plate. But I looked up again as I remembered something,"em, Yoongi? That old guy in that picture on your desk, does he live here?"

Third Person's POV

Yoongi slowly put his bowl down, staring at the table and wandering into the void, his senses remembering the smell of smoke all too well,"he's dead." Was all he muttered of harshly.

That shut her up for a moment.

"Oh," she said. "I'm.. I'm sorry. Was he.. Important to you? Your dad?"

He slowly shook his head, getting up and avoiding the conversation to go further than that. He took his plate to the sink and stood there for a moment, not realizing that a tear rolled down his face nor was he aware of (Y/N) who came closer behind him and saw that tear slide down.

"Y- Yoongi... You can't keep it in forever. I can see the heavy weight you're bearing in your eyes."

He looked at the girl in surprise. Was he that obvious, reflecting his thoughts in his movements like a mirror? Or was she that good at reading people?

He turned to her slowly. How could he  tell a girl he barely knew about  it?

But somehow... It felt okay.

She would never see him the same way, though.

"You know nothing about it," he brushed it off, wiping the tear off his face. Here he was, pretending to be the coolest and coldest person and yet he cried infront of the same girl twice.

What was left now? He thought as he conisedered letting it out, maybe he would feel a bit lighter, then.

He held the girl's wrist and made her sit on a couch in the living room and sat in front of her, using the chance of having no one at home because his parents were both at work.

The girl looked puzzled at his sudden actions but said nothing, knowing that he would probably say something soon.

He looked at the ground, summing up all his courage and met her eyes,"I know I'm making a mistake by telling you this but I guess I can't handle it anymore. I've always made mistakes, anyway. So it doesn't matter. You want to know why I'm not already a great young pianist who is having his own tours around the world??"

She looked confused and said nothing, but then she slowly nodded, feeling the curiosity reaching its limits for discovering the secrets of this boy. This was a chance she never realized she awaited so much. And here it came.

Yoongi then looked back at the floor again and said,"well, fois; time, a long time ago. It was a long time ago when I... I killed him..."