Skirt [Yoonmin]

9.

Yoongi stopped writing and looked at the ceiling above him. What was his favorite memory? This updated questionnaire for Jimin was harder to fill out than he imagined.

Just as he was about to go back to writing there was a knock on the door. He glanced at the clock and noted how it was too early in the morning for any visitors.

Holly barked and he got up from the chair. He still wasn't dressed for work yet. It was probably Jin waiting to mess with him.

"Jin it's freaking six—oh." He replied going quiet when he realized who was out there.

It was his mom and dad. They had bright smiles on their faces. "Yoonji! How are you?" His mom asked leaning in for a hug.

Yoongi's eyes instantly flooded in tears. That's the first hug he had received from her in years. After he graduated high school and confessed to his parents he wanted to pursuit music they pretty much abandoned him.

Not physically. Mentally. That was far more painful.

His parents were positive he would fail in the music industry. They encouraged him to forget about it and go to college.

They never understood that wasn't him.

"Come here!" His father spoke once she let go.

Another hug.

He hadn't realized he missed their touch so much. Instead of crying he blinked the tears away. He couldn't possibly show any emotion to them. It was still hard to think of everything they put him through.

"What's wrong honey?"

"Nothing I...I'm just a little shocked. It's pretty early."

"Oh baby. Sorry for the surprise. We were in town and before heading back we wanted to greet you. You look so good! Your hair has grown since I've last seen you."

Yoongi nodded, "Yeah. Years make your hair grow."

"Years? We were just here a couple months back."

A stinging pang of pain spread all throughout him. It felt like he had been kicked in the center of his gut. The awful reality that his parents preferred him this way was heartbreaking.

"Oh. Yeah. I don't know what I'm saying. I—uhh—I actually have to get ready for work. I'm pretty busy." He lied turning around and avoiding eye contact.

"Right! Sorry for taking up time. We might stop by this weekend if you're okay with that?"

"Actually, I don't know. I have some stuff to do."

"You stay busy. You're so hardworking. We will keep in contact." His dad added.

"Sure." He forced himself to say.

After giving him a hug as a goodbye he quickly closed the door. His breathing was unsteady and the constant pressure on his chest wasn't getting any better.

The knot of tears that had progressively gotten bigger was getting hard to hold in. He shut his eyes with a shaky breath.

Hot acid tears streamed down his face. Once it started getting all over his shirt he wiped them off. Crying was something he didn't do often. In fact, he didn't like it. Showing emotion had always been seen as weak.

After showering quickly and drying himself he got dressed. Every time he did this, used the bathroom, or even got dressed he had to close his eyes.

It was awkward handling body parts that he wasn't use to having. Especially when he knew that it wasn't suppose to be that way.

He managed to find a pair of black khakis in the enormous closet.  With his parents surprise visit he didn't feel like shaving his legs. The fact that women were judged by something so natural such as body hair was disgusting.