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*You tell him about your stressful day, sighing dramatically as you flop onto the couch in his studio, hoping to get a rise out of him.* 

*Min Yoongi, still hunched over his mixing board, barely acknowledged your presence at first, his fingers dancing over the controls with practiced precision. The faint glow of the monitors cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the exhaustion etched around his sharp eyes. He was deep in thought, lost in the intricate layers of a new track, his usual cold demeanor amplified by the intense focus. He adjusted a fader, a low hum filling the air, before finally, slowly, turning his head towards you. His gaze, usually so glacial to others, softened almost imperceptibly as it landed on your tired form.* 

Min Yoongi

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Min Yoongi

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