Chapter Text
you flip through the book of designs, eyes barely flitting over the cheesy infinity symbols and flowery swirls and gazing upon the dark stamp of blood-red roses and litany of small constellations. you bit your lip in uncertainty. this would be the first transaction you’d pull through with first, your own brand new credit card, and second, without your older brother’s permission. some would argue that jin was more your dad than your brother, and a part of you was inclined to agree. ever since your parents had passed away, jin had stepped into your parental role, making sure you got to school on time and had three meals a day. you felt somewhat guilty for doing this knowing of his vehement protest against it.
this, was getting a tattoo. a permanent fixture on your subjectively pale skin that would you would regret, your brother argued. however, you paid his words no heed. you had always wanted one, and it was just a matter of when and what to get done. you felt just a tad bit better knowing you were doing this on your own dime.
you stopped on a page, eyes glued to a design with all-too familiar characters written in all-too familiar strokes. you gasped in horror.
“oh no.”
“oh yes.” you winced, looking up to meet one min yoongi’s gaze. “get out of my store, y/n.” yoongi was always astonishingly handsome in your eyes. with his sleepy, catlike eyes and little pink mouth, he had been the star of most of your dreams since you were all but eight. he was also very much grown up now, not that he’d ever not been.
yoongi was seokjin’s best friend, and the bane of your short-lived existence. he had stumbled, quite literally, into your life when you had moved to the city, becoming your older brother’s first friend. since then, he had adopted the role of your second big brother, much to your displeasure. it was fair to say that you had always held out a torch for him, even after what he had done to you two years ago. you shook yourself awake from your thoughts. what happened then shouldn’t matter now, you reminded yourself. because you were so very much over him.
“i’m a paying customer.” you defended yourself, closing the book shut and crossing your arms, cursing yourself for not wearing something more appealing. donned in one of jin’s old sweatshirts and faded jean shorts, you looked the ‘little sister’ part to the boot. a role you never wanted to appear like in yoongi’s eyes.
“doesn’t matter, sweetie.” the man strolled up to you, stopping short just in front of the chair you were perched on and plopping down on the rolling chair opposite of it. “jin’d have my head if he saw you here.”
“c’mon, yoongi-oppa.” you hopped off the chair, so preoccupied with landing upright that you miss the way he exhales shakily. “he won’t have to know!”
“please,” he snorted, meeting your eyes. you gulped, feeling the room get warmer as the electricity in his gaze made your heart thud faster. “you think he wouldn’t recognise my work?”
“who cares?” you got over your hesitance quick. “for old times’ sake, please?”
“i can refer to over to tae if you want it that bad, y/n.” he runs a finger through his faded mint-green hair, and you watch as the litter of roses on his collarbones are exposed and the dark foreign words on his biceps flex with his movement. you feel your throat go dry.
“why him?” you cough slightly as your voice comes out raspier than you intended. the sides of yoongi’s mouth quirk up.
“because he’s better at inking up little girls who want infinity signs and their boyfriends’ names.” and there he was.
“i don’t want either of those!” you cry out, offended.
“why? no boyfriend to keep you occupied?”
“i’m busy with my education, yoongi-oppa.” you emphasise, rolling your eyes. you didn’t want him to know that you had spent the two years away from him pining for someone you knew would never let you have him. “i’m twenty now, remember?”
“i remember.” yoongi says shortly. “you don’t need to remind me.”
“why, don’t want to be reminded of your age?”
“i’m twenty-nine, sweetie, not seventy.”
“close enough.” you tie your hair up. “that’s old enough to not do as my brother tells you to!”
“that doesn’t matter. i’m still not doing it.” he shoots you a deadpanned look. you squeeze your thighs together. goddamn it, he shouldn’t still have this effect on you!
“why not?” you whine, stomping your foot against the cold linoleum floor. yoongi huffs out a laugh, making your heart skip a beat.
“because you still have a big, fat crush on me.” he leans forward against the counter, eyes shining in amusement.
“oh, please!” you stammer out, rolling your eyes. your hands tightened on the belt loops of your jeans. “that was when i was nine. get over it.”
“as if you’ve gotten over me, kim y/n.” yoongi smirked, getting up from his chair and walking over to you. you take an unconscious step back at the predatory gaze he’s giving you. not long after, you find yourself backed onto the wall with the older man’s hand resting beside your head. he leans in, a hair’s breadth away from your lips, and you feel your heart beginning to pound out of your chest. you run your tongue over your bottom lip nervously, watching as yoongi’s gaze drops down to the action. just when you think he’s about to kiss you, he backs away, grinning. “case in point.”
“t-that was rude!” you fume, kicking off the wall and grabbing your bag. “you’re an ass, oppa.” you make a move to walk out the door, only to be stopped by his hand on your wrist. you pull away, feeling it burn like a stamp. he peeks at you from behind his mess of mint green hair.
“you should stop calling me oppa. for my health.” he clarifies when you shoot him a confused look. an involuntary laugh escapes from you, and you muffle it behind a hand.
“how about no, oppa?” with that, you waggle your fingers at him, tossing out a “send me that referral!” over your shoulder, ignoring the affronted “in your dreams!”. you leave the tattoo parlour forgetting the man had ever broken your heart.