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The stars were glittering, shining through the thin clouds in the navy sky. The moon was full, just like that first night, illuminating the park as it peeked through the autumn trees. Lying on your backs, your bodies opposite to one another, you gazed.
“How many years is it tonight?” you asked, turning your head to him.
“Four,” he mumbled, his voice still raspy from sleep.
You smirked, recalling how you woke him up. “You’re psychotic,” he had groaned after you repeatedly smacked him with a pillow.
“I prefer dedicated,” you corrected before dragging him out of bed.
He was never happy about being woken up, but you could tell, for this occasion, he was always appreciative of it.
Four years ago tonight, you found him wandering around the park in the same white shirt, and leather jacket he was wearing now. He was just as beautiful now as he was then, not a crease of age on his round face. When you asked what he was doing here at that time of night, he asked you the same question.
You remembered thinking his voice was the uniquely deepest one you’ve ever heard. Every word he uttered was lazy, like it was a chore to speak, yet raspy with history. You knew someone confident enough to wander the streets at that time of night had definitely been through something.
“I asked first,” you remembered smirking.
He shrugged, watching you patiently.
You raised a brow at him. He momentarily broke eye contact, attention redirecting to the grass. Till this day, you could still swear you saw him stretch those pouty lips into a gummy smile. However, when he returned to your eyes, his face was stone cold as he sternly held his ground.
To keep from blushing, you looked up at the sky. The darkness was just as clear as it was tonight. “I couldn’t sleep,” you replied, but your neck grew tired of the strain.
You found yourself settling on the grass, laying down and looking up vacantly at the midnight sky. He was really quiet for a while, and you thought he might have left, making my heart slightly twinge with rejection. But, he surprised you, laying his then lilac head by yours, his body pointing left while yours was right.
You furrowed your brows at the memory. “Yoongi?” you asked, turning to face him.
“Hm?” he groaned, meeting your gaze.
“You never did tell me. What were you doing here at two in the morning?”
Your question hung in the air for a while. You felt it intensifying between the two of you, growing thicker with each breath.
He returned his gaze to the sky, his hands moving to rest on his stomach. He exhaled deeply then muttered, “That was the night I was kicked out.”
You froze. The night you celebrate your friendship was the same night he lost everything?
You sat up, feeling your guilt spread to every inch of your soul before twisting awkwardly in your gut. You were hit by a wave of nausea, your late dinner scratching your throat.
He mimicked your actions, shifting himself backwards to remain by your side. “What’s wrong?” he asked, knitting his brows together.
The little pout of his lips was enough to replace the festering guilt with turning desire.
However, it was short-lived.
You were washed over by guilt once again, shaking my head at your stupidity. “I force you to remember the worst night of your life every year,” you replied. “Hell, I wake you up for it.”
He didn’t seem bothered, shrugging, “So?”
You rubbed the space between your brows, sharply inhaling. “Yoongi, you told me about that night. You told me what happened and I made you relive it every year.” You cursed yourself as your voice slightly cracked near the end.
He shifted closer before taking your hand in his. “It’s not the worst night of my life,” he admitted.
“But-” you started only for him to cut you off.
“Yeah, all that crap happened, and I literally thought I had nothing left for me here,” he said, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.
You tried to focus on his words, but the nerves that erupted from the tender touch were all too consuming to ignore.
“But, there’s something I never told you about that night,” he continued. His thumb paused mid-rub, and his darkening eyes bore into yours.
You felt your cheeks heat up and you were suddenly thankfully for the darkness that surrounds you. “And what’s that?”
“Not even twenty minutes later, I came to this park and found a reason to live again.”
The world was suddenly quiet. The air was still. The words were hanging. You were afraid to breathe. You felt a tear fall from my right eye. You weren’t sure how he saw it, but he let go of your hand to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb.
You unintentionally leaned into his touch. The action was enough to give him pause. He caressed your cheek before letting his hand lazily glide along your jawline and hold your chin.
He hesitated for another second, eyes flickering from yours to your lips, as if asking for permission. When you didn’t make any attempts to stop him, he swiftly leaned in and placed a sweet kiss on your lips.
You had been staring at those lips for four years, dreaming of this moment, blushing when others would mistake the two of you for a couple. It was probably the reason why you latched back onto his lips when you felt him pulling away.
In that moment, surrounded by the night, you realize that, just like the moon and constellations, you were lost, but together found.