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Yoongi can’t believe you came, almost feeling as if he needs to pinch himself through the material of his tux. He sent the invitation not expecting much; it’s been a year and a half since he last saw you, and yet here you are.
He wants to look away so bad - he should, he has to really. Anxiety prickles at the base of his spine and works his way up as he leans back in the wooden chair attempting some kind of nonchalance. Sang-mi doesn’t seem to notice his shuffling, far too busy talking to her parents, a blissful look on her face as she shows off the wedding ring wrapped around her dainty finger, put there by none other than Yoongi himself just an hour ago. He can just appreciate the warm feeling blooming in his chest at the thought of being a newlywed when the reminder of his current state begins to walk across the ballroom, stopping at the bar as you glance around meekly.
You look as if you would rather be anywhere else, so Yoongi finds it tough to figure out why you came. Of course, he’d missed you. He always misses you, that was often the issue, the problem that had come up in more than a few rows with Sang-mi. But right now, he just feels off about the whole thing. There’s a heavy feeling in his stomach whenever he catches sight of you, a twist in his chest like every feeling he’s ever had towards you is being tugged to the surface, laid bare for him to suffer through all over again.
A drink appears before you, and with a few quick gulps, the glass is empty. You never used to drink like this, and so Yoongi can only imagine you’ve come here through some act of solidarity for him. To be here for him, as a friend? Or as something, at least. The blur around your relationship has always left Yoongi feeling disorientated, and he can all of a sudden relive each and every second of his time knowing you through a dozen scattered heartbeats that leave him winded. When you look over at him, it’s like you can hear whatever pained monologue is going on in his mind.
“Yoongi, sweetie,” Sang-mi’s voice breaks through the fog you’ve got him in, and the two of you break eye contact just as he turns to face his wife. Sang-mi’s eyes flicker towards the bar, a tick in her jaw that makes his stomach turn, “You okay? You look pale,”
His hand instinctively comes to rest over hers, the chill of the wedding band pressed to his palm like a warning, “I’m okay, just a little warm,” He hopes the tense smile he sends her does the job, and he heaves a sigh of relief when she beams in response, turning back to finish whatever conversation she was embroiled in with his new mother-in-law.
You’re gone from the bar now, and Yoongi almost winces at the sharp rush of panic that grips him, making him feel as if he’s been sent back in time a few years. It’s almost embarrassing the twitch he feels in his legs to stand up and find you, the odd need deep in his gut to know where you went, if you left, if you’re okay. The way you emptied the glass of wine tells him perhaps you’re not doing too well, and his eyes snag on the empty wine glass you left behind on the bar.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” His lips move of their own accord, making his decision for him, but Sang-mi doesn’t reply or even turn round. He leaves the table unnoticed, in search of you, replaying the old cat and mouse game he’d gotten too acquainted with in the past.
-+-
You don’t know why you came, it was clear from the moment you ripped open that damned envelope two weeks ago that coming to Yoongi’s wedding would have only caused you to feel like this.
The city skyline fades from a pretty peach to a dark indigo in the time you’re up here on the roof, the humidity taking a brief reprieve thanks to the soft, cool breeze that drifts through the air. The benefit of being so high up, you guess.
The ballroom had felt suffocating, hundreds of faceless people congratulating Yoongi and his new wife all while you were stuck feeling like this. It had been foolish really, your little plan to come and talk to Yoongi before the wedding. Several flight delays had meant you arrived just in time to have your heart ripped out of your chest and stomped on by the reverend watching on with a grin as Yoongi leaned forward and kissed his bride.
You’ve never felt like this before. Hopeless and idiotic, driven by feelings instead of the common sense your father had drilled into you as a child. Even at your big age, it seemed you had a problem with thinking things through, always the impulsive one in your friend group. Yoongi had seemed like the only one who could wrangle you in and prevent you from making stupid mistakes. You wished he would have never put this dumb idea in your head by sending you that invitation.
Your cheek feels cold, wet, thanks to the tears that seem to have fallen and you shake your head, feeling all the more foolish for not only coming here but also drinking wine. You can never control your emotions after a glass of white. You’re using your shawl as a tissue when you hear the creak of the door, followed by a clank and a familiar yelp of pain that has your heart dropping into your stomach.
“Y/N? Are you up here?”
For a moment you flirt with the idea of hiding and just staying silent, perhaps Yoongi will go back downstairs to his happy wedding with his beautiful wife so you can make a quick getaway and crawl back to your one-bedroom apartment in shame. But, you miss him. So much it’s painful to know he’s just around the corner for you, looking for you, and so your voice drifts on the night air, hesitant and shakier than you expect, “I’m over here,”
When he comes into view, it feels like a ten tonne weight has been dropped on your stomach. He looks great, infuriatingly handsome in the tux he manages to wear so well. His black hair falls over his forehead, damp at the temples. The lights from the city seem to glisten in his eyes, and you feel the need to look away, opting to stare over his shoulder as he approaches you gingerly, hands in the pockets of his slacks.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” He speaks softly, throat working as he lifts a hand to itch behind his ear - a nervous tick of his, you recall with a soft smile. He almost seems shy, and a dumb little part of you actually begins to flicker with hope. So much about your friend makes sense now that you look back, the way he used to act around you. The things he did back then - you had been so blind, so stupid. Wrapped up in ridiculous romances that were bound to go nowhere when you had Yoongi right in front of you.
“I almost didn’t,” You swallow down the lump in your throat. God, you’ve missed him. Why didn’t you pick up the phone a year ago, or six months ago? A shrill, pissed off voice in the back of your head taunts you with thoughts of how different things could have been. “I wanted to, though,”
Yoongi’s lips curl into a small smile, and you almost break. It wasn’t a total lie, you did want to come, but not for this. Not for some tense, bittersweet exchange with your now-married friend. The guy who could very well be the love of your life, though you’ll never really know.
“I was happy to see you. It’s been a while,” Something flickers in his expression, but he hides it just as fast as it came. You want to cling onto whatever that was and get the truth out of him, but maybe it's too late now.
Is it so bad to get closure? You can’t help but wonder. Maybe Yoongi needs it too, if the card he’d written you had meant anything when he wrote it. Could what he said really have gone so quickly? If so, you wanted to ask him how he got rid of those feelings so easily when it feels like the same ones are eating you up inside.
“I guess congratulations are in order,” You smile, brittle though you wish it was genuine, “your parents must be thrilled to welcome another Min into the family,”
He scratches the back of his neck, eyes shimmering with something you’re too afraid to name, for fear of getting your hopes up. When he clears his throat, you almost feel as if he’s going to admit everything, to tell you all about what he wrote you in that card. But once more, you’re left feeling like a fool, “They are. Sang-mi is everything they wanted in a daughter-in-law,”
The odd choice of words is not lost on you, but instead of saying anything, you allow the heavy silence to swallow you both up. Swelling around you both like a great big dark cloud that is just moments away from unleashing the mother of all downpours.
“Y/N - “
“Yoon - “
The two of you stop, brows raised before an awkward laugh bubbles up Yoongi’s throat and escapes past his lips. Before the silence can take you prisoner again, you cling onto the shred of courage that seems to slice through you.
“Yoongi,” You say, watching as his head lifts up, hair combed aside by the whisper of wind, colder than it had been when you first came up here, “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were in love with me?”
His eyes widen, a quick sharp inhale before he parts his lips to speak, though no sound comes out. The silence stretches on, “I found the birthday card you sent me. The one I didn’t get...until yesterday morning,”
The hectic nature of your life and your career had meant you moved around a lot. It killed you to read his message to you, wondering as you cried on your bedroom floor, what could have been.
“I wasn’t gonna come today. But I had to, after reading that,” Your voice breaks a little, and all Yoongi can do is stare at you, his eyes wide and lips parted in shock. You feel bad for springing this upon him, but you can’t leave here without him knowing. Without him having all the answers, or even closure, if that’s what he needs. But you have a feeling what you’re about to tell him is only gonna complicate things, and you almost decide to keep your mouth shut.
Almost.
“Yoongi, I love you,” The tears you’ve been holding back all day finally break, falling down your cheeks as you bare your heart and soul to the one man you may never have, “I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it, and on today of all days. But I just couldn’t leave here without telling you,” You take a deep breath, almost panting as you rush to get the words out all while your hands reach up to swat the tears that are streaming down your face. The only reaction you seem to get from Yoongi is the wetness around his eyes, though no tears have fallen yet. Rather than take it as a good sign, you decide to lay your cards out on the table.
If you didn’t finish this now, you never would.
“I feel like an idiot for not seeing it sooner, for not realising, but I love you. I have loved you, all this time,” When you’re done, you feel lighter. The burning in your throat is the only thing that keeps you grounded right now, and you fight the urge to run past Yoongi for the door, staying rooted in your spot to ask him the one question that has been plaguing your mind since you opened that damn card. “I know you’re married now, so don’t feel like you need to protect my feelings. You can tell me the truth, but I have to know. Do you still love me?”
It’s like you’re talking to a statue, the way Yoongi watches you silently, watery eyes and lips parted. His hand clenches at his side, and it’s all you can do not to walk over and shake the answer from him. You need to let him speak in his own time. When his mouth moves to speak, your heart leaps in your chest, robbing you of all air.
And then the door creaks, and a male voice calls over the roof.
“Yoongi, man! Where are you?”
You offer Yoongi a small, apologetic smile, fully prepared to leave and live the rest of your life. If he felt the same way, he would have told you. He would have walked over you and taken you in his arms, whispering kisses along your cheek and begging you to run away with him. Or at least that’s how the fairytale ended in your mind. Now, however, you rearrange your shawl around your shoulders, glancing behind Yoongi just in time to see Namjoon’s long legs carry him around the corner.
“Wh - Hey, Y/N! Jeez it’s been so long,” He beams at you, rushing over to wrap you in a bear hug before releasing you, “I didn’t even see you downstairs, how have you been?”
“Good,” You nod, avoiding Yoongi’s eye line as you smile at your friend. His brows begin to furrow as he takes in your tearstained face, lips parting to speak, but you cut him off, “I have to go though, my plane leaves in a half hour. Just wanted to say bye to Yoongi and wish him all the best,”
“Oh, uh - “ Namjoon glances between you and your mute mutual friend, a confused look etched on his features, “Is everything okay?”
“I really gotta run,” You reply, brushing past the two men before turning one last time, “Nice to see you guys,” Your eyes fall on Yoongi again, and he watches you with an unreadable expression on his face, “I hope you have the happiest, most wonderful life Yoongi. You deserve it,”
And then you do what you should have done hours ago. You leave.
-+-
“Am I missing something?” Namjoon asks, perplexed at the whole exchange he’s just had with you, “Dude its been fifteen minutes, are you not gonna speak? What the hell did you guys talk about - “
Yoongi turns to his best man abruptly, eyes wild, hands clutching at the sleeve of Namjoon’s tux, “Do you have your car?”
“Wh - yeah, I do. Why - “
“Okay, well,” Yoongi gulps, fire burning his stomach and nerves causing his hands to shake, “I hope you can run, cause once we get into the ballroom, there’s gonna be some pissed off people,”
-+-
The plane lands just as you wake up, still in the dress you wore to the wedding. Your exchange with Yoongi put you a little behind schedule, meaning you couldn’t change before you had to make your way to the airport. Maybe you should have stayed overnight instead of rushing off, but you knew your mind would only torture you with false hope. Dreams of Yoongi bursting through your hotel door and confessing he still loves you.
You’d had enough foolishness to last a lifetime.
It’s still early, meaning the airport is fairly quiet once you get your bags and you don’t have to wait around for a taxi. All you want to do is collapse onto your bed and binge some terrible reality TV. Maybe order in some ice cream, a classic heartbreak delicacy.
The lobby of your apartment building is empty, and you forgo your usual plan of taking the stairs, too tired emotionally and physically for the toll of climbing five floors. You had thankfully packed light, but the sooner you enter the cocoon of your apartment, the better. All you want to do is mourn in peace.
The ding signaling the arrival on your floor brings you a small pang of joy, and you step out into the hallway, fiddling with the pocket of your jacket for your key. Before you can find it, you happen to glance up, the slumped figure by your door ripping a gasp from your chest. The mop of dark hair, black suit and familiar profile has your heart leaping, pulse thrumming against your skin as blood begins to rush through your veins, your ears, blocking any sound out aside from the rhythmic thump of your heart.
Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice you at first, but you must move in his peripheral vision, causing his head to snap your way. He fumbles, rushing to stand until he’s there in front of you, hands brushing off his slacks.
“Hey,” He clears his throat, “Again,” he finishes with a short, awkward laugh. Now you’re the silent one, completely unable to comprehend what you were seeing right now. Yoongi outside your apartment door in his wedding tux, just six hours after you left him on the rooftop. “I’m surprised I got here before you,”
“Uh, yeah,” You speak, throat hoarse from the nap you had on the plane, “my flight was delayed for a little bit, so...What,” You clear your throat, bewildered and a little speechless, “What are you doing here?”
“I drove,” He nods, as if you’re just asking him about the weather or something, “I took Namjoon’s car,” He steps out of the shadow then, coming into the light cast from the fluorescent bulb overhead. It’s then that you notice the black eye he’s sporting.
“Yoongi, your eye - “
He grins, a short chuckle tacked on the front of his reply as his hand absentmindedly reaches up to touch his cheek, “I’ve pissed off a few people,” He swallows, his expression serious as he looks over at you, and then you notice another thing. His wedding ring.
Or, rather, the fact he’s not wearing it.
“Yoongi…” He steps towards you and you’re already crying before he makes it over to where you’re standing, heart tired as it slams against your ribcage, that flicker of hope burning to life once again.
He tilts his head to the side, eyes watching the tear that falls down your cheek before he reaches your, using this thumb to swipe it away. He doesn’t take his hand away, though. Instead he leaves it there, fingers caressing your skin, the rough pad of his thumb brushing your cheekbone tenderly.
“I was an idiot,” He begins, brows furrowed as if he’s mad at himself, “I didn’t say anything. I had so much to say, but it wouldn’t come out. I’m sorry, Y/N,” You must still be crying, though you don’t really notice, too enamoured by the words leaving Yoongi’s lips. His other hand reaches up, joining the first as he cups your other cheek. He now has your face in his hands, angling your head up a little, as if he wants you to see every word reflected in his amber-flecked eyes. “I hope in the time it took you to fly home, you haven’t changed your mind. Cause I really really love you. Still love you, after all this time. It never went away,” He grins, a small twitch of his lips you always know means he’s nervous, “Not even a wedding could change how I feel about you. I just saw you, standing at the bottom of the altar and it all came rushing back,”
You’re practically sobbing now, tears coming so fast you can barely speak, but you nod furiously, hands abandoning their hold on your bags as they drop to the floor, your fingers reaching up to wrap around the lapels of Yoongi’s suit and pull him towards you. When his lips press against yours, it’s as if you’re floating. He steps forward until you are impossibly close, bodies pressed together like they were destined to meet, slotting into place like a jigsaw piece.
When you pull away, the words can’t come fast enough, and Yoongi laughs as you repeat over and over, “I love you, I love you, I love you - “ His lips cut you off again, arms wrapping round you so he can kiss you the way he needs to, and you’re breathless all over again. By the time you’re inside your apartment, Yoongi takes a pause to bring your bags in, dropping them behind the door and slamming it closed, a thrill of excitement and pure happiness snaking its way up your spine when he locks the door with a finality that gives your story the happy ending you’ve always wanted, with the man you never knew you wanted.