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Sutures | m.yg


"A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it." --Jean de la Fontaine There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed? --- Soulmate AU *slight mature content*

Romance / Drama
Age Rating:

Broken Hearts Club

Min Yoongi was done with relationships. It seemed they were always after money or fame, or they couldn’t deal with his schedule and began to look elsewhere.

At first, he thought since Jihee was an idol, she wasn’t after his money or fame. That she understood how the life left little time for a relationship. It was the first relationship he’d ever gone public with; his fans reacting surprisingly well. Dating another idol made it easier, she wasn’t subject to more attention that she was not already used to.

But the one downside to dating an idol was that when they cheated on you, there was photographic evidence. He gave her the benefit of the doubt; it was probably a cousin or an old friend. However, then he came into her apartment earlier that night after dance practice. The true nature of the relationship was revealed.

“Yoongi!” Jihee called. “I’m sorry! I don’t expect you to take me back. Just please, keep this quiet.”

Her image mattered more to her than his heart. Just like everyone else.

Yoongi drank the rest of the glass, the burning in his throat he’d felt at the beginning of the night subsiding. The bar was one far away from the dorm, almost on the outskirts of the city. A place nobody would think to find him. It was busier than when he’d first come in, but still nothing like the bars and clubs downtown.

Music started up and he cringed as one of his own songs came through the speakers and reverberated off the walls. Min Yoongi couldn’t escape himself even if he wanted to.

Nobody seemed to be eyeing him or trying to capture his attention by requesting the song. In fact, no one seemed to be paying any attention to him at all. A small solace.

Most of the other patrons danced. The majority offbeat and already off their face from soju or whatever their drug of choice. He noticed a girl sitting at the corner of the bar--she seemed uncomfortable--trying her best to pull down the short black dress she wore. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, ending just below her chest. She wasn’t drinking anything, hooking her heels into the barstool, and watching the dancers.

Yoongi felt a small pull in his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was from the heartbreak or from the way the black dress hugged her curves. Honestly, Yoongi didn’t care.

“Another,” Yoongi said, motioning to the bartender.

“Sumi!” your friend said, rushing over to the edge of the bar where you had perched. “Come dance! You’re never going to get over him if you don’t let yourself go.”

“I don’t want to get over him, Eunji,” you said. “I want to get back together.”

“No,” Eunji said, her forehead wrinkling, a sign she was serious. “I’m not letting you get back together with that deadbeat. He was holding you back and you’ve taken him back too many times.”

You sighed, unhooking your heels from the rung of the barstool. Your best friend had a point. You’d given Minki--your ex--hundreds of chances. The first time he cheated on you, you’d believed him when he said that it was a mistake and it would never happen again. And it didn’t, for another year. The second time, you swore you’d never take him back. But a month later, you did.

“Come on, let’s go show him what he’s missing,” Eunji said, grabbing hold of your hands.

“He’s not here.”

Eunji scoffed and pulled you up. You stepped out of your heels and stood on the ground with just the thin material of your tights between your skin and the sticky ground.

“You know what I mean! Now, come on!”

She pulled you onto the floor and to your surprise you actually enjoyed yourself. You’d forgotten what it was like to simply dance like no one was watching. You didn’t care that your dress was slipping up again, or that you’d worn holes in your tights on the bottom of your feet.

Eventually, Eunji brought you a drink. You assumed it was water, but as you drank, the liquid burned your throat and you nearly spit it back out.

“Eunji!” you exclaimed after swallowing. “Vodka? Really?”

“It used to be your favorite,” she said.

“Yeah, not when I’m expecting it to be water.”

You laughed slightly, throwing it back.

“Water won’t help you forget Minki.”

“This is why my parents thought you were a bad influence, you know?”

Eunji laughed, ordering herself a drink.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think their judgment was the best.”

You laughed.

“Thanks,” you said, squeezing your friend’s hand. “I really needed this.”

“You know what else you need?” your friend asked about twenty minutes later. Her words beginning to slur, her lipstick smearing. “A good f---.”

You covered her mouth before she could finish the word. Your eyes were wide and you were sure you were blushing. You, too, were starting to feel a bit tipsy. But, unlike your friend, you got tired when you drank.

“I’m going to get another drink,” you said, wanting to escape the smirk that had broken out across your friend’s face.

You walked backward for a couple steps, despite the fact you weren’t drunk yet, you stumbled and fell backward. You landed straight into the lap of a stranger, who luckily caught you, his arm around your back.

You felt yourself blush as his dark eyes made contact with yours. His white hair partially covered them, but you could still feel his glazed gaze boring into you.

“A drink?” he asked. “All you had to do was ask.”

A smirk broke out across his face, not unlike Eunji who winked at you from a couple of barstools away.

Eunji (11:01 pm): I think he’s an idol.

You looked across the bar at your friend who had ordered some food to sober up.

You (11:01 pm): I don’t think so. He doesn’t seem like an idol.

Eunji (11:02 pm): Who else would dye their hair white?

You (11:03 pm): I don’t know. Does it matter?

Eunji (11:04 pm): Only if you care that you’re about to hook up with an idol.

You rolled your eyes and turned your phone to silent.

You stifled a moan as he kissed your neck and you fiddled with your keys, trying to unlock your front door. You eventually managed to turn the key into the lock and the two of you practically fell inside your apartment.

“What about Eunji?” you asked, as he closed the door and pushed you against it.

“The bartender’s going to take her home,” he answered. “Don’t worry.”

He kissed your lips this time, effectively shutting you up and smearing your lipstick on his own lips. His hands roamed up and down the fabric of your dress. But, he was patient, he didn’t just rip the fabric off you like Minki would’ve.

“Only tonight,” you said, your voice breathy.

“Only tonight,” he repeated.

The promise you’d made each other before you’d left the bar. Neither of you wanted a relationship, rather proof that you could still be loved.

His lips roamed back down to your neck, it seemed to be his favorite spot. Somehow you managed to collapse onto the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist. You dug your heels into his hips and laughed.

“What?” he asked, smirking against your collarbone.

“I forgot my shoes at the bar.”

He pulled his lips away from your skin. His hand reached up and moved your hair off your shoulders and out of your face.

“Good, means I won’t have to take them off.”

Yoongi woke up the next morning. He glanced over at your sleeping form. He smiled and reached to move the hair from your face, but his fingers stopped midway, remembering the promise you’d made each other the night before. Only tonight.

He got up and collected his clothes. His phone was still in the pocket of his jeans, nearly dead. He slipped on his jeans and glanced down at his phone.

“Shit,” he mumbled, seeing the multiple text messages from his band members asking where he was and telling him he was late for practice. He shot a quick text to Namjoon explaining that he was on his way.

Yoongi quietly walked out of the bedroom and closed the front door, trying not to wake you up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black mask that he kept on him in case he needed to walk in public without too much notice.

He slipped into the crowd. He placed his hands in his pockets and looked around, hoping to eventually catch a taxi. But, just in case someone had followed him, he wanted to get as far from your apartment as possible before he hailed a taxi.

The heartbreak from the day before seemed to have dulled inside him. It was still there--it probably always would be--but it wasn’t ruling his thoughts anymore. He smiled as he thought back to the night before, seeing you dance so well, even though you had been reluctant to. When he’d originally spotted you across the bar, he decided to ignore you, but when you landed in his lap; a little tipsy, your hair just the right amount of messy, and your bare feet swinging just above the ground, he couldn’t resist you.

With each block, Yoongi felt an odd sensation in his chest. It wasn’t heartbreak, it was something else. Something he couldn’t describe and something he’d never felt before. It didn’t hurt at first, but after a couple more blocks, he stopped, clutching at his chest.

He breathed heavily, his thoughts racing, trying to find some sort of explanation. He managed a few more labored steps before collapsing on the sidewalk.

Yoongi opened his eyes. He looked down at the IV in his arm and glanced over at Taehyung who sat beside his hospital bed.

“Yoongi! You’re awake!” the boy said.

Taehyung immediately stood up and yelled out into the hallway. Yoongi could hear the rushing of his band members as they barreled down the hallway towards his room.

“What happened?” Yoongi asked, as soon as they were in the room. “I just remember walking and then my chest hurt.”

“You collapsed,” Namjoon said. “They brought you here in an ambulance. The doctor told us it wasn’t a heart attack, but said he didn’t want to explain anything until you were awake.”

The boys fell silent as the doctor and Bang PD walked into the room. BTS scrambled to the far side of the room, allowing the doctor to examine Yoongi.

“It would appear,” the doctor started. “You are very lucky man. Not many people find their soulmate in this world.”

“What?” Yoongi and the members said at once.

“When someone meets their soulmate, choosing to leave them behind can be deadly for both parties. The only reason you aren’t experiencing pain right now is because you don’t have a choice in where you are.”

“Wait, so how am I supposed to live my life then?” Yoongi asked.

“It’s complicated,” the doctor answered. “There shouldn’t be a reaction for anything work-related for either of you. However, you will have to remain in close proximity to each other in your free time. That’s not to say you will have to spend every waking moment together, but...”

“We need to know who this girl is, Yoongi,” Bang PD continued. “If you want your career and your life to continue, we have to find her.”

“So, you’re saying the guy I met last night? He’s my soulmate?” you asked, once the doctor had explained everything.

“Most likely,” the doctor said. “It is extremely important we find out for sure, though. It is a matter of life and death.”

You took a deep breath, allowing the weight of everything to fall on your shoulders. It was supposed to be a one night stand. Only tonight.

You weren’t supposed to discover your supposed soulmate. What would that even mean? You hardly knew the guy! How did your body somehow know he was the one?

Eunji was sitting in the corner. You could tell she still had a headache from the night before, but when you’d called her in a panic, she’d still managed to rush over to your apartment and find you passed out, eggs black and burnt on the stove.

“I don’t even know his name,” you said, looking down. “I--I don’t know how we’ll find him.”

“Well,” the doctor said. “There’s only one other person in the city who has been admitted for finding their soulmate today...” The doctor trailed off and pointed up at the TV where a news report was talking about how a famous idol had met his soulmate, but that they needed to find her.

Eunji looked at you, her eyes wide, the news sobering her up immediately. She reached out for your hand.

“Fuck,” she said, “you’re Min Yoongi’s soulmate.”

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