If Yoongi cared more about college and work, he might have been extremely bothered about the events of that night, how the feeling of a stranger's lips on his fingers lingered on his mind, distracting him from what most might deem as "the important things."

He hated to admit it but Jeongguk was right.

That was the most romantic thing. And Yoongi hated the very idea of romance movies and novels, but now he felt that time he spent at Cat's Eye had been plucked straight out of a Nicolas Sparks' draft.

And he didn't hate it. The way it settled in his mind didn't trigger Yoongi's temper or the urge to blame Jeongguk for dragging him out of the comforts of his home. Rather, he thought back on the neon dancer with fond intrigue. He baffled himself, truly. Yoongi couldn't imagine tolerating any stranger kissing his hand, but on the contrary he felt flattered. The attention that stunning masked dancer gave him, the gentle touches, the balletic movements performed while circling Yoongi.

He had only received the smallest glimpse of the dancer's eyes. A thin black film of sorts which was a part of the mask shielded them for the most part, but in that moment when Neon kissed Yoongi's hand, he received the faintest view of them. And of course the whole time the dancer's lips were in full view.

Those absolutely gorgeous lips.

Two days later and Yoongi found himself still staring at the hand those lips touched, sighing in disappointment with himself.

This "Neon" probably did this sort of thing often, he thought. Pulling strangers out from the crowd to dance with or around them, to excite the audience and perhaps even spur them on to drop more money into his case. Evidently, he was the quite the performer, and as sad as it was Yoongi knew a lot of performers were like that.

At the same time, when Neon had pulled him out to dance, Yoongi didn't feel that way. He felt something more powerful and genuine, but he also considered now perhaps it had been part of the hypnotic spell the dancer put him under.

Parting with a kiss on the fingers.

How cliche, Yoongi thought. But it worked so well on his heart. Now he couldn't get that boy off his mind, and most likely wouldn't be able to, until he finally came to accept he probably wouldn't be able to enjoy another interaction with his captivating dance partner.

He'd get over it eventually, Yoongi told himself. Maybe after a week, or two weeks or three, he would be able to distract himself with the not-so-exciting happenings of his own monotonous life.

...yeah, didn't sound likely to him, either

Under no circumstances, however, would Yoongi allow himself to go back to that club, to any club. He had only gone there for Jeongguk, and he never wanted to find himself in such a place again.

Even if it meant never seeing the neon dancer.

Yoongi wasn't fond of the feeling that thought brought him. But again, he was quickly learning to believe he had encountered no more than a professional performer, a people pleaser, that it wouldn't haven't mattered to the dancer who he plucked from the crowd.

Yet he had still managed to make Yoongi feel something from it.

Man, am I a fool.

It wasn't easy but he taught himself to suppress it. At least enough that he could focus on college, on his part-time job. Although - not that Yoongi could say it surprised him - it didn't really help that Jeongguk brought it up on numerous occasions and had apparently mentioned it to Hoseok, too.

And Hoseok never shut up.

Nevertheless Yoongi tolerated him because they were friends. Not nearly as close he was with Jeongguk, but still friends.

Time passed since that unforgettable Saturday evening. It was Monday now, and that meant Yoongi had to be up early to head to his morning class. His apartment was within walking distance to his college campus, so in reality he could potentially get up at eight and still be punctual. Except Yoongi was the type of person who liked to take his time with everything so he typically set his alarm for much earlier than needed.

At 7:30 that morning he woke to the sound of a blaring siren, internally cursing himself for not choosing a more soothing sound - he was always afraid of not waking up to soft sounds, though, so really this is what he saw necessary. Throwing off the four layers of he blankets he had buried himself in, Yoongi climbed out of bed, trudged to the kitchen to pour himself a bowl of cereal, brushed his teeth in his apartment's tiny bathroom, then got dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a black button-up.

The clock on his phone read 7:58. Not bad.

With that, Yoongi threw his phone and charger into his backpack which he slung over his shoulder before heading to the door to put on his combat boots and jacket.

He was out of the apartment by 8:05.

It took no more than fifteen minutes to walk to campus. If it were any further, Yoongi would have considered driving, but simultaneously he believed this was better, as he didn't get out to exercise as much as he should. Certainly not as much as Jeongguk did. Jeongguk lived in the same apartment building, so he walked to class just as Yoongi did - except the younger boy was much less punctual and typically didn't walk into class until two minutes before it started, give or take.

As much as Yoongi loved that kid's company, he also loved the solitude of walking alone early in the morning. Perhaps it was another reason for his willingness to wake up so early. He could afford to take his time in his morning walk, to even detour, should his "adventurous" heart desire. And today, as he knew he had the time to do so, Yoongi did just that. He walked with slow steps, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. Fortunately it wasn't a windy morning. Yoongi had a much easier time tolerating the weather if it weren't windy.

As he walked, he hummed softly to himself, going over his work and class schedule for the week in his head. Not the most exciting thing, but Yoongi wasn't much for listening to music as he walked. It distracted his mind from the walk itself, from the things and people (and dogs) he observed and questioned about.

For example, the little Pomeranian dog that Yoongi had met on a handful of walks that defied all Pomeranian stereotypes - by now he knew it to be a girl, her name was Pancake, and she was the sweetest little thing Yoongi had ever seen. According to the owner who Yoongi had also met on one of his walks, Pancake was fourteen years old, meaning for her breed, she was considerably old. He guessed this could be the reason for her somewhat more relaxed nature.

He wanted to see her today. Although Yoongi did consider that since it was cold, it was unlikely she would be outside, but there was still a chance Pancake would come to see him at the window like she had done before. So Yoongi went anyway.

He didn't love that Pancake's house was on a rather busy street, just a tad bit out of the way, but the thought of seeing her little coffee brown head poke through the curtains to greet him was worth it.

Her owner's house was at the end of the street. Yoongi walked about halfway before something stopped him.

Someone, that is.

If Yoongi's mind had been any more preoccupied by sweet thoughts of Pancake, he might have missed him. The stranger sitting outside on the ground, one leg outstretched while the other was folded upward, knee supporting one of his arms, the skin thereon bare as he wore nothing overtop a short-sleeved shirt. Dark, unkempt hair, tired, half-lidded eyes turned towards the sidewalk.

Plump, beautiful lips.

Yoongi had only meant to sweep a glance over the boy. Just a glance, nothing more, because he knew firsthand how much he hated people staring at him. But he had no control over his feet. They stopped completely.

The fact that this stranger was wearing two small, faded blue bracelets didn't help subdue Yoongi's suspicion.

Nor did the eyes that soon lifted from the ground to meet his own.

"...Neon..."

The name fell from Yoongi's lips against his will. There's no denying it, his heart whispered subtly in his ear. If not the bracelets, the lips, and the faint resemblance of those eyes, the reaction this "stranger" gave upon seeing Yoongi confirmed it.

Without a doubt, it was the same person.

"Go away."

It took him aback. The voice was soft, but with sharp edges that Yoongi couldn't deny stung a bit. He had expected a sweeter reaction, a more pleasant second encounter. Rather, he should say he hoped for one.

Yoongi wasn't quite understanding nor enjoying how this boy now glared at him with defensive eyes.

"What are you doing outside like this without a coat on?" He asked, unable to ignore how Neon shivered as a but a gentle breeze drifted pass. "It's December now, wouldn't you say short-sleeves are a bit, I dunno, lacking?"

There was no response. No verbal response, anyway. Neon returned his gaze to the ground as he moved his right hand to rest on his left arm. Yoongi watched curiously.

"Are you sick?" He asked with some tentativeness. Neon did look quite pale, he noticed. "Were you attacked or something? Robbed? They took your coat, didn't they? Douche move. You should get something to eat, though."

That last statement was spurred on by the audible grumbling Yoongi heard from what sounded like the depths of Neon's stomach.

"When's the last time you ate?"

"None of your business," the boy scowled. "I'm sure you have places to be. Just go."

Yoongi listened - kind of. He left, but with no intention to abandon his beautiful dance partner who clearly was in need of some food right now.

Luckily for him there were plenty of places to eat in the area, cheap places no less, and Yoongi was able to be in and out of a fast-food restaurant with an $8 meal in ten minutes. He walked quickly back to the spot where he had found Neon. The boy hadn't moved.

"Here. Don't know your preferences, but there's a burger and fries in there," he held out the bag and waited for Neon to take it, "and here's a Coke." He held out the drink as well.

At this point Neon's eyes were flooded with absolute disbelief and puzzlement, as though it stretched his mind to the very extent of its capacity to comprehend the simple act of a good deed. Yoongi only smiled with a sense of accomplishment about him. It wasn't often he did things like this. But he always felt good about them.

Especially this particular act, as it had been for his lovely dance partner of two nights ago.

"I don't-" The boy faltered over his words seemingly in frustration. His brow was furrowed again now. "I don't owe you any favors."

"Favors? Why would you?"

"You're gonna pull the 'you owe me one' card, aren't you?" Neon's eyes narrowed menacingly. "I don't owe anyone, and I'm not answering your questions."

Again, it stung Yoongi a bit to be spoken to this way by the boy. But he tried to understand.

But I have so many questions...

Battling the pain of discouragement, Yoongi took his phone out of his backpack to check the time.

"I should go."

He sighed deeply as a wave of disappointment washed over him. With some hesitation he looked at Neon again, finding him peeling back the wrapper of his burger with more reluctance in his expression than Yoongi had ever seen in a person.

He wanted to stay and talk to Neon.

But he couldn't now, so he resumed his walk to campus, hoping with all his being that the boy would still be there when he got back.

—

end of chapter two.