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1. Sacrifice
It’s the half empty glass of blood red wine sitting at the smooth black table full of friends that gossiped a little too much, a little too frequently, a little too impulsive. The table full of people who said they’d only have one drink but now were knocking over their third empty bottle as they smeared the lipstick they spent too much money and too much time putting on onto the faces of handsome strangers and temporary comforts. You didn’t glance a second time at your abandoned drink as you walked out of the building that held the now muted sounds of blasting music and sweaty bodies pressed up against each other. You got into his car and the ignition roared to life.
2. Transcendence
Not only is it what you reached when Yoongi’s lips left the colors of pink and purple blossoming on your neck and shoulders in a shape that followed the curve of his smile when he pushed you against his apartment door after slamming it shut, not only is it what you felt after your swollen lips continued to smash against his teeth with tongues that never seemed to stop exploring and hands tangled through his hair, but you also reached it when your eyes fluttered closed as he pressed those same lips against your forehead and wrapped an arm around your waist the next day muttering ‘good morning.’ You reached it when you walked downstairs after washing up to be kissed with the aroma of chocolate pancakes and the sight of a baggy white button up sagging off one of his shoulders to display the same shades of the splattered colors of pink-purple that were on your own canvas of a body. He looked like art. His hair was a mess but so was yours, and his head turned towards the side to try to face you when you leaned into his back and hung your arms around his hips and he gave you the beaming, gummy smile that you’d never trade for anything.
3. Affection
It was the 10AM puns and 6PM knock knock jokes (which were always pretty clever but you always rolled your eyes), and sometimes you would walk onto the balcony to find Yoongi staring at the stars, and there you both would talk about your childhood dreams and what it would be like to float among the constellations. He would make you your favorite hot tea when you were distressed during your time of the month and then cuddle with you for the rest of the week, you would come home to a bundle of roses and a box of chocolates and a small slip of paper that said he was sorry after you both had a small argument, his voice wasn’t the best(it was still perfect to you) but he would occasionally sing you a song he wrote about how much he loved you and at first your heart fluttered and skipped and jumped at the thought of him but now he feels like home and you couldn't have asked for anything better.
