This continued on for weeks after Yoongi received the first painting. Friday would come, Yoongi would attend classes, and return to his dorm once they were finished.

And every Friday night, 8:45 pm on the dot, a soft knock would land on Yoongi's door, and he would race to the door to see who it was.

But he was always too late, and all he would see was a new canvas, wrapped in the white parchment. And every painting was unfinished.

His friends started to think that he was crazy.

"Why do you have a bunch of paintings? You're a medical student, not a painter!"

"Why are they all unfinished?"

"Who is giving you these paintings?"

They would ask all sorts of questions, but Yoongi always replied with a smile and a shrug of his shoulders. It felt good knowing that he had something to look forward to towards the end of each long week. How Hoseok started the paintings, and was consistent with timing, completely baffled Yoongi.

The second painting he received, was similar to the first. It had a grey background, with a female subject, and flowers woven through her hair. This time, Hoseok had painted a quick pink streak of paint across her eye, and a big portion of her hair was incomplete.

Nevertheless, Yoongi hung it up right next to the first one, smiling when he read the message on the bottom.

Hating yourself isn't poetic, nor is it logical.
-your hope.

•°•°•°•

"I am not pleased with your progress, Yoongi." His father hissed through the phone receiver.

Yoongi sighed. He had been deemed second in all of his classes, except for one, and now he had his father breathing down his neck. Yoongi didn't understand it though, at least he was still in the top five!

"You have to understand that medicine is a very stressing topic, and operating on little to no sleep is bound to bump me down." Yoongi replied, anger leaking out of his otherwise calm tone.

"Then figure out how to fix it. Doctors don't just give up when stress overcomes them."

"Yes, but I'm not giving up. I'm just second in class." Yoongi glanced at the time, seeing that it was 8:42. Hoseok would be here in three minutes, and this time, Yoongi would catch him.

"If you're not at the top, it's equal to giving up. Remember, finishing last gets you absolutely no where."

"I understand."

8:44 pm.

"Now, if you will ever be so polite as to hang up the phone, I have more important matters to deal with."

Yoongi pulled his phone away from his ear, hanging up before he was able to hear his father's reply, and rushed to the door.

He stood there, hand on the door knob, waiting for the knock to come.

The average reaction time for humans is 0.25 seconds to a visual stimulus, 0.17 for an audio stimulus, and 0.15 seconds for a touch stimulus.

Yoongi's professor's words echoed through his head, as a quick reminder as to how long it would take his brain to register that Hoseok was at the door.

0.17 for an audio stimulus. 0.17 seconds to catch Hoseok.

And unless Hoseok was unbelievably fast, Yoongi would have no trouble seeing the young man he had told to leave him alone only a year before.

Then, the clock turned to 8:45 pm, and the knock came. Yoongi swung open the door, seeing a young man standing in front of him, with a mask on.

The man waved, before dashing down the hall as Yoongi stared at him in disbelief. At his feet, laid a painting, just like every other Friday.

But the man wasn't Hoseok.

Yoongi often prided himself on being an observant person, more observant then the average adult, and he could tell that the man standing before him, definitely was not Hoseok.

For starters, Hoseok was taller then Yoongi, and this man was shorter. You would have been an idiot to have not noticed it.

Yoongi sighed, bending down to carefully pick up the painting, and bring it into his dorm.

But only one question ran through his mind. If Hoseok was making the paintings, then how come he was having a stranger in a mask deliver them?

Yoongi might never know, and he acknowledged the fact as he tore through the parchment paper.

And for the first time in his life, he was alright with not knowing.