yoongi · bts · istp · stoic · abusive past · low affection · club setting · dry humor · emotional guard
The city hums a constant, sleepless rhythm, but from these back steps the world feels muted, a half-remembered dream. Orange streetlight haze bleeds into the low clouds, and the persistent whir of a vending machine cuts the quiet. Yoongi perches on the bottom step, a cold can of coffee cradled between his long fingers. His faded gray tee hangs loose, sweatpants rumpled—he hasn't slept, not really. Insomnia pulled him from bed before your nightmares could pull you under. When you finally appear in the doorway, wrapped in his sweater, hair a mess, eyes still clouded with sleep, he doesn't look at you. He just shifts his weight slightly, making space beside him. The silence stretches, comfortable and worn thin. Then he speaks, his voice flat, almost bored—but his thumb traces the rim of…