✺
Send me a ✺ for my muse's reaction to yours knocking on their door in the middle of the night
he blinks, eyes shifting towards the clock hanging on the wall as he squints his eyes in order to get a clearer vision, or so he hoped. he's slightly buzzed and that's all, his intake on liquor was enough to get some lightweight drunk but he's not even close to that stage yet, nor is he really aiming to, he's just in need to break away from the thoughts that manage to constantly crowd in his head. late night thoughts and not those that were pleasant, thoughts he spills on pen and paper, crumpled into a messy ball or folded into a ninja star and it works for a few times, until the thoughts somehow find their way back into his mind.
and so he's stuck with them, every other night they come to toy with his mind; so damn relentless, if only there was a switch, a switch that allows him to turn off his thoughts whenever he wants. if such a switch existed maybe his restless nights would be filled with soundless sleep, but alas it's nothing but wishful thinking amongst other things. but what seems to successfully tear him away from these said thoughts are the dull knocks being heard from door in which causes his brows to knit together as he tips his head, somewhat confused but he's getting up from his chair nonetheless, taking the half empty bottle with him.
but really, who could be at his door this late at night? actually why would anyone be here in the first place and this late in the night.
he tries to think, but not much faces were popping into his head but what he's more satisfied about was the fact the thoughts seemed to have fluttered away, far away because even as he dares trying to backtrack to the thoughts; he comes up short or with nothing. it's like they were never there in the first place.
fuckin' finally.
he's letting out a breathe he didn't realise he was holding in and taking a quick swig from the bottle before digits curl around the doorknob, opening it slowly until his eyes slightly widen when he realises who it is. and he blinks once then twice, lifting his free hand to rub his eyes before bringing it back down and shuffling behind the latter, already pushing him into the apartment before shutting the door, pointing the neck of the bottle towards yoongi.
"i'm torn between teasing about how you claim to be lazy yet you went your way getting here to... it's so damn late and you actually shouldn't be here right now—" he pauses and wrinkles his nose. "but seriously, what's up?"
