hey snow

Waking from a dreamless sleep, Yoongi stares at the empty half of his bed, fingers gliding across untouched sheets to seek warmth he knows isn’t there. 

But it will be. Yours will be. Because he’s fucking done with his own bullshit and will now trek the depths of his soul with a purpose redefined. The demons awaiting him have no chance, they have no say. 

Softly grabbing chilled cotton, Yoongi breathes in, the subtle heat of his own rest permeating his cheek for a few moments more. It isn’t until a few slow blinks and a million thoughts of you that he turns over, patting for his phone on the nightstand and immediately clicking the one notification that’s yours. 

Hustler [05:45]: 1 Attachment 

Mm. You sent him the dawn.

He’s gonna give you the world. 

For a long stretch of time, Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. All he can do is stare at the way the sky blooms in pastel hues, admiring the framing you captured so perfectly from your front porch. 

Is there anything you aren’t good at? He can’t keep losing to you. 

Flopping back onto his pillow, Yoongi aims his phone upward, eyes still caked with sleep and drowsiness. 

Yoongi [06:13]: 1 Attachment 

Yoongi [06:13]: Mine’s better

The photo’s so dark you might not be able to tell what it is. But you’re smart, so you probably will. 

Fuck, he needs to get up.

Squeezing his eyes once before rubbing out the crust, Yoongi slowly vacates his warmth, grabbing a chain from the nightstand to clip it on.

Everything reminds him of you, even in the quietest and most mundane parts of his day. But the links around his neck are extra special. Because your blatant fascination with his jewelry will never, ever get old.  

If you only knew what else he wants to do with you involving the weight around his neck.

Yoongi’s mouth cracks into a sleepy grin as he heads to his bathroom. That particular fantasy will have to wait until much, much later. 

And unlucky for you, he is more than willing to wait.

He wonders if you know he notices. How he drinks in that sparkle in your eyes, shivers at those fingers you slide along his silver. Even if you never will, it’s fucking adorable either way.

Yoongi goes through his morning routine, and it isn’t until he takes vitamins in the kitchen—a part reinstated into his ritual ever since the mental turnaround—that he hears his phone buzz.

Hustler [06:34]: is that your ceiling?? lmao

Of course. He never doubted you for a second.

A small smile curves before Yoongi drinks another swig of water, holding the glass to his mouth while another message slides though. 

Hustler [06:34]: i wish i was there :((

Fuck.

You will be. You’ll be there much sooner than he originally planned, and the thought makes him anxious and restless in the best ways. 

Yoongi [06:35]: Same

Mm. He can do better than that. 

Yoongi [06:35]: I’d say meet me for lunch but then you’d be gone the rest of the day🤷‍♂️

Pocketing his phone, Yoongi grabs what he needs before heading to the studio. Because there are still projects to work on and things to plan, with a high possibility he won’t even get a lunch to begin with. 

Good problems. Lucky problems. He cannot take any of this for granted. 

Hustler [06:38]: worth it😩whisk me away 

And there’s no way he can take you for granted anymore, either. 

Yoongi [06:39]: Careful what you wish for 

If he got to see you, he’d be gone the rest of the day, too. Until you scolded him to get back to work, at least. 

The thought pulls out a tiny huff. 

After grabbing his wallet and keys, Yoongi plods to his shoes before the door is cracked open, crisp morning air wrapping around his features. 

He’s not alone. 

To his side, Miss Dion stops watering her plants, donned in a fluffy robe and a shit grin that Yoongi has to look away from out of pure… Is he being shy right now? “Morning.”

“Good morning to you, too, sugar,” she says through satisfied teeth. “I told you. What did I say?”

Yoongi can’t help but shine his own set to the sky before looking her way. “Mm. Depression and isolation can mess with memory, so.. Can’t recall. Looks like you’ll have to tell me again.” 

With creased eyes, he braces as his neighbor lightly threatens with an air swipe of her arm. 

“A smart one, huh? Figures. Glad to have you back, son.” Miss Dion shakes her head, one hand propped on a hip and staring low. “Looks like your little rascal is back, too.”

“My what?” Yoongi looks down before seeing a cat emerge from the nearby bushes, opting to walk on the sidewalk at the sight of people. Silent, he watches his neighbor tsk at the retreating culprit,

“She keeps messing with my plants and making my poor Zeke antsy. Get her some better food, okay? Go with your girlfriend before I charge you for garden damages.” 

A full laugh bursts out of his chest, realizing he’s got a little in common with the feisty, older woman. Is Zeke the name of a dog or something? “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good.” Settling into a warm smile, she radiates serenity with sparkles in her eyes. It’s a look that reminds Yoongi of his own mother, and his heart suddenly yearns to go back home. “Now shoo and get on with your day. Don’t let me keep you.”

Turns out, there are plenty of good people in this world. 

And maybe—just maybe—he’s starting to feel like one of them, too. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

—

—

On his drive to work, with morning air breezing through open windows and bottom lip between his teeth, Yoongi decides that you’re gonna hear everything from him from now on. Every single day, he’ll reach out every moment he can. 

He knows it won’t ever, ever make up for the months he fell off the planet, but he’ll abruptly switch up his behavior because you deserve his full extent of communication and he has been severely lacking. 

And the first thing he will hound you about is getting in a good meal today. 

—

—

Work flies by, which is another sign things are looking up. 

During a break, Yoongi fishes out his phone to continue a search he started earlier. And seeing your nickname on his screen sends wings beating around his chest like a fucking lovesick fool. Will he ever get over this feeling? Fuck no. 

You [13:25]: Which one were you looking at? I wanna see!

Cute. It’s one of the keyboards he’s been looking for, but definitely out of his price range—for now. But it’s whatever. He knows what he can do with bare bones and minimal tools, so anything a step above worn-down pads and keys is just a plus. 

Yoongi [14:30]: This is the one I really want but not right now

Yoongi [14:31]: 1 Attachment 

Honestly? Just the fact that you’re interested in what he’s talking about is enough for him. This is leagues better than anything he could’ve imagined, and now he doesn’t know why he didn’t start doing this sooner. 

Well. He does know why. 

Hustler [14:33]: Responded ❤️ to an Attachment

Hustler [14:33]: HOTTT GET IT NOW!!!

Yoongi [14:34]: It’s expensive!! Gonna save up.

Shit, his cheeks can’t hide. Grinning like an idiot and you’re gonna get him caught in this fucking studio. 

But your next text? Your question? Wipes his whole expression and squeezes his lungs shut. 

Hustler [14:35]: how much? i might be getting a raise already so i can spot you🤪

Yoongi damn near drops his phone. 

Are you serious? You’d be willing to do that? For him? You see the price on that. You know how much it is. 

A shimmering feeling spreads throughout his chest, and he’s fighting everything to keep his vision from blurring. You have no idea how much this one text means to him. After all that fear and trauma that shattered his soul, you’re slowly stitching him back piece by piece. Even if his chest is constricting so hard he has to clutch it to keep it from breaking for an entirely different reason. 

Fuck, you’re everything. His beginning, his end, his every sleeping and waking moment. 

And you don’t even know how many of his lives you’ve saved. 

Hustler [14:38]: hey i’m sorry if that was overstepping. 

Hustler [14:39]: obv i know you can get it on your own, but i just got way too excited and wanted you to get it asap haha.. but yeah it’s a great investment either way so i say go for it!

Oh, fuck. Screw it. 

Rushing out of his swivel chair, Yoongi walks out of the studio, past a curious Jungkook and Namjoon with a finger already on the call button. 

Walk, walk, walk, get as far out as he can. The rings are blaring in his ears and his chest is on fire but this couldn’t wait. It’s the twentieth step that falters as you timidly answer with,

“Hello? Wait, are you okay?”

Instead of saying the first thing that comes to his mind, or even the second, Yoongi goes with the third. Which is fucking nothing because his mind is where his heart is and his voice is nowhere to be found.

“...Hello?” From the ruffles on the line, he can tell you’re getting up and going wherever the fuck you need to go. Because Yoongi knows he’d be doing the exact same thing. “Where are you.” 

He can only manage a slight chuckle before asking, “What are you doing to me…”

Your sigh of relief turns into a soft laugh. “I really am sorry. If you felt some type of way, I wanted to say that. Shit, I thought you were… I don’t know.”

“Just had to get some air cus of you,” he admits with a huff and shake of his shoulders. “Gonna ban you from my phone.” 

“There’s a word for that, you know.”

There you go again. Boldly teasing him while he’s on the clock? How you hit all of his hidden buttons so effortlessly, he really needs to know. Cheeks tight in a grin, Yoongi fires back, “You wanna try that again?”

“Oh, you don’t know? It starts with a B, too, you were so close!”

You are so fucking lucky you aren’t here with him. The urge to grab and attack your sides until you can’t stop laughing hits Yoongi like a wave, and he scrunches his nose until he counters with feigned nonchalance, “Okay, I see how it is. That’s fine..”

“No, wait, I—”

“I’ll remember that.”

“No!” That laugh is always contagious as hell. “Ah, whatever, you won’t do anything anyway.”

Nah. Even during his goodbye, Yoongi is already plotting. Because while you call his bluff on many things—a surprising amount of them—about this, you couldn’t be more wrong. 

“Guess you’re right, baby girl,” Yoongi says, using a low tone that always makes you shiver just right, “I sure won’t.”

He doesn’t have to tell you it’ll take four days to make that a blatant lie.

—

—

During the next studio session a few days later, everyone starts hanging out and messing around since things got wrapped up fairly quickly. Something about being organized and intentional can free up time or whatever. Yoongi just laughs at how simple yet how rare that really is in the industry he chose. 

As they jam with Woosung and the guys, he lets himself truly let go, feeling the flow of music and rhythm and playing away on one of the lingering guitars. It’s his first time touching one in so long without it cutting deep into his skin. 

It feels good. He’s not even that rusty. This is the best development in a long time. 

Even the band has compliments running all throughout the session, and it takes everything for Yoongi to not grin too wide or strain his cheeks in shyness. He knows he’s good, but hearing it from them is a little too much to handle. 

It also doesn’t help to feel a pair of eyes look his way a little too strangely. 

But soon after it ends, Yoongi finds himself out back again with Woosung, leaning against bricks as smoke fills the alleyway. 

“You seem okay today,” the singer notes through a small smile. “You gonna be alright?” 

“I am.” Yoongi watches the afternoon skies. “And I think so.” 

A small hum. “You have to say it like you mean it. Even if you don’t believe it, you have to try.” 

Shit, that’s a lot easier said than done. But Yoongi keeps his mouth shut and his eyes blinking, looking down and smelling wisps of tobacco. “What do you do when you..” Fuck, how should he say it? “What do you do when you keep falling back down?” 

Woosung takes a drag, and he seems to know what that means. “First I’d tell you the obvious. Keep picking yourself back up.” Coughing, he continues in a much more relaxed manner. “But honestly, you gotta figure out why it’s happening in the first place.” 

Yoongi looks his way.

“Once you deal with the reason for the fall, you know how to fight the push. The slip. Whatever you wanna call it.” 

With a deep inhale, Yoongi slowly focuses back on the sky, wanting to lose himself in the clouds drifting pass. 

Without a doubt, he knows what his push is. He’s just been too weak to fight it. Now that he has people helping—and you—it shouldn’t be as hard. “Thanks.” 

“You learn a lot on the road. And I can tell you wanna be on stage, you know. You’d kill it.” 

“You think so?” 

“I think you think so.” 

Yoongi laughs with him. Because the guy's not wrong. “I’ll get there. There’s not really any other options for me.” 

Woosung appraises him with pride. “There’s a few camps that are opening up spots. You guys should go to one. It’s good networking, if anything.” After flicking his cig, the singer then turns to fully face him. “Who knows? We might end up opening for you someday.” 

Huh? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Brows furrowed, Yoongi blinks before getting confused at the guy’s laugh.

“I’m not kidding. There’s something special about you, I can tell. You just need more time and space to let it grow.”

Mulling it over, Yoongi knows where the conflict is coming from. Yes, he does need to learn more and pretty soon, they could all outgrow that studio and move into another. But they have to push forward and try, even if they’ll be out of their element at these networking opportunities. “I’ll let them know,” he finally says.

“Good.” Woosung pushes off the wall with a shoulder. “I know you’re doing this for you, but… Is there someone else you’re doing all this for, too?” 

Yoongi nods without hesitation. 

“Then don’t leave them in the dark for much longer.” 

What the fuck? How did he know?

“If they catch you in a bad moment… You might lose them before you can even say sorry.” 

—

—

Yoongi strolls across another aisle before halting mid-stride, tugging himself into the seasoning and oil section to grab more of what he needs.

After work, he chose to stop by the nearest supermarket to grab things. And the more he walks through the different areas, the more he realizes just how much he’d been needing. Fuck, the damn bill is gonna be huge. 

But it’s all worth it. Surprising you with a hearty meal? Yoongi thinks he could do that every day for the rest of his life.

If only there was a nice spot in town you could also go. The ache he has to take you out and show you off has been reaching record highs, but he knows it’s not possible right now. 

Yoongi just wants to show you he’s cool with bringing you outside of his place. Never mind that it feels less like home, he’s more concerned about you thinking the worst. Thinking that things are over or limited when he has plans that extend beyond— 

Jimin: Incoming Call

A brow is raised before Yoongi answers, “Hey.”

“When’s the release party again?”

That was definitely not what he expected to be asked. Especially when Jimin has been texting him about movies and reminders about practice all day. “Uhh. In a couple weeks. Why?”

“Okay. I.. I dunno.”

Yoongi checks the expiration date on a carton before flat out blurting, “Just date him.”

A groan sounds on the line. “I just.. What if he doesn’t want to? Then I’ll look like an idiot.”

Putting back the first, Yoongi pulls out a second, approving the better date and lowering it into his cart. “Then he’s the idiot.”

“Well. He is.” A rueful laugh crunches through as the smell of cheeses and bread fill the air. “But only because of the way he looks at me.” 

Yoongi’s heart clenches. He feels the same about you, wondering how you could still regard him with those beautiful eyes and make him feel more than wanted. “If it helps, you look happy with him.”

“Ah, throwing my own words back at me now?”

“Guess so.” Yoongi flexes his jaw. “I just know how this feels.”

“When are you gonna tell him.”

His whole body locks. “I don’t know.”

“Dude.”

And his eyes slowly shut.

“It’s been long enough, you know that, right?”

Stopping off to the side, he leans onto his cart swallowed in his hood, ignoring a few passing looks and gnawing into his lip. “Course.”

“So do it. I get that you don’t want to, but you have to.”  

A hand angrily rakes through his hair, and he lowers his head to speak to the ground. Of course he would get this lecture in the middle of a fucking store. “He’s gonna fucking kill me and who knows what he’ll say to—”

“And I’ll be sending flowers and Tae will write you a song.”

A pause. Then a huff. Yoongi almost feels like it could be that simple.  

“She deserves this. You deserve to finally make this.. I dunno, real. Official, if you wanna call it that. Blessed? Wait, is that only for weddings—”

“Chim.”

“You get what I mean. And the most important—and I’m sure you know this because you’re not an idiot—he sure as fuck deserves to know.” 

“I know. We both do.” Yoongi sighs, hearing wheels squeak around him and various chatter. He knows he should move before weirding people out, but his feet feel glued to tile. “It’s just.. gonna be shit for all of us.”

“…At least it’ll be less shit if you tell him before he finds out on his own.”

Jimin is always right. 

“Also, I might need that keyring back soon if you aren’t even gonna put it to use. I wanna practice after work for the last game.”

“I am using it.” 

“Not how I planned.”

“How you planned?” What the hell does that mean? It’s just a set of keys that unlock the gym a ways away, and Yoongi uses it to play by himself after it closes so he’s alone. 

When he’s alone. Wait. 

“I’ll give it back,” Yoongi finally speaks. “After the game.”

There’s an audible groan on the other line. “Can’t believe I have to spell everything out around here.” 

Mustering enough strength to prop his head up, Yoongi finally rolls from his spot and heads to the front to pay. “Thanks, Chim.”

“Use it well. Make her happy, make you happy, make babies, make me a fun uncle, I don’t care.”

Yoongi outright laughs, heart beating a little faster. And he thought just shopping for groceries with you would be enough for him. Gotta hand it to Jimin for getting miles ahead of everyone else. Although… 

“But you have to tell him.” 

Dreams dashed through, he murmurs a quiet, “I know.”

“Yoongi… I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me, too.” Yoongi slips into line, waiting behind a young man giving his girl a cheek kiss and laughing at her dramatically wiping it away. “Thanks for everything.” 

“You can thank me by telling someone you need help next time. Even if it’s not me.”

As the girl goes to lift food to be scanned, she gets stopped by her boyfriend, watching with a small smile before helping him anyway. “I will.”

“Good. Love you.”

Yoongi swallows, eyes a little prickly for more than one reason. “Love you, too.” 

—

—

Even though Yoongi has been getting small evidence of your eating habits—as instated by him this past week—he’s still determined to get you more nourishment. 

He’s pretty sure you like the restaurant next door, so despite knowing this could get him in a world of trouble, he uses his lunch time to bring you food. 

Writing a note and some groceries he forgot to get last time, Yoongi sets it in the paper bag and walks to your building, still in disbelief that you’ve been this close this whole time. The pain of remembering how much of your life he missed while he was unreachable pangs his chest. But he deserves it, and you deserve a lot better. 

Finally on your floor, he walks up to the receptionist before immediately ignoring their wide eyes. 

“Who are you looking for?”

“My girlfriend. Just dropping this off.” 

“Oh.. This is so sweet of you.”

Yoongi doesn’t even give that declaration a second thought. It came out so naturally.

Maybe he really is ready to move on.

You aren’t there at your desk. Which is probably best because he’d just steal you away. So Yoongi quietly sets it on your empty space, looking at all the trinkets and pictures you have in your little world. Some are just adorable, but he spots a polaroid of your brother that clenches his chest. 

He was there for that. You both had matching cameras and took an impromptu picture of each other at the same time. He’s pretty sure your brother has yours very visible somewhere, too. 

But there’s no time to think because he’s gotta bounce. 

Walking fast past reception, he hears a quick, “Wait, are you not gonna wait for her?”

Pausing, Yoongi turns. “I….” 

On second thought? Yeah. Because fuck this sudden shyness, he's gonna take any chance to see you.

Be it from being impatient, or just really nervous, Yoongi waits around a nearby corner until you find your food. He needs to see your reaction to the note, because if you throw it out or ignore it? He’ll take that as the most glaring sign to give you space.

But when your hand slowly covers your mouth and your body quietly buckles, his heart beats so loud he thinks you can hear it, and his soul pulses so fucking hard his vision glosses over. 

You will never know what you truly do to him.

Back at the studio, Yoongi is locked in the rest of his shift. Because he isn’t just doing this for him now. There’s another reason he’ll be making it big. 

You’re still believing in him after all this time. You still stayed. 

And Yoongi will take over the whole world just to kneel at your feet to give it to you. 

—

—

The entire night is perfect. 

In fact, Yoongi’s entire life feels like it’s where it should be. Hanging out with you in a gym, starting another water fight because he still dreams about the one you sprung on him that day? This is what life is about. There are no shadows with him now that he’s fully in your light. 

And that carries him through the night and up until the game the next day. His sleep was restful, his spirits are high, and his mind is completely spotless. 

But with one glance at the man from Dalo, all the darkness comes rushing back in. 

—

—

Did you just tell them all to play? 

Even though the guy that assaulted you is on the other team, you want everyone to stay? To play out the game? 

Seeing you look so folded in on yourself, Yoongi’s chest feels twisted with immediate rage. How the fuck are these guys allowed to even be here? How did they make it this far? That fucker is staring him in the face and he’s trying unbelievably hard to not go over there and commit felonies. 

Honestly? If you’re really about this and want them to go ahead and play, Yoongi knows exactly how it’s gonna play out. All the scenarios are manifesting in his head and he can’t help but feel a sadistic elation knowing how fucked this other team is gonna be. 

But he looks at his best friend with heated eyes. “What do you wanna do?” 

It takes him awhile, but your brother responds exactly how he thought he would, “Fuck this shit up.” 

“Exactly.” 

At your addition, Yoongi looks your way, liking your spark but hoping you’re not overcompensating for anything. If you’re uncomfortable, they should just forfeit the game and bounce. 

You aren’t budging. You’re clearly shaking and yet, you are immovable in your decision. And it’s so like you and fuck he wants to kiss your fears away in front of the whole gym just so everyone including that dipshit knows you’re forever untouchable. “The fuckin’ nerve.” 

“Bold,” Jimin adds from where he stands, turning to you and dropping into oblivion to say what they’re all already thinking. “Don’t worry, love.” 

Yoongi turns to the other bench.

“This will be over soon.” 

—

—

Everything starts off exactly how they want it to. 

Turns out, Jimin’s regimen and practice schedule worked out in everyone’s favor. Now that they’ve played multiple games with each other, Yoongi and the other guys can communicate with just looks and moves alone. Which proves a huge advantage because they’re making the other team look completely unorganized. 

All those nights alone in that gym have also contributed to Yoongi’s form. This is the quickest it’s taken him to be in the zone and he’s even impressing himself with how sharp he is. 

No one can guard him. No one can stop him. It’s painfully obvious to them and he can’t help but laugh at their shock every time, shrug at their little team squabbles, smirk at the way this idiot can’t even keep up with him. Tragic? Worse. 

But things get dicey when Rohan fouls a little too hard, everyone nearly converging on him and the guy selling his pain as if it wasn’t just a normal swing. On cue, shoving and pushing happens, Yoongi being on the outskirts since he’s the last to get there. 

It’s over when the coaches come separate, but amongst all the racing heartbeats, your brother looks really focused coming out of the fray. Really calm. Which means something went down and he is fighting to keep his attitude in check. 

As they both head to the bench, Yoongi immediately gets the rundown. And his whole attitude ices over with a snap. 

“They know which car is mine.”

Fuck. 

That means one of two things. One, these guys just happen to really like knowing who drives what. Or two, this isn’t a game anymore. This isn’t the matchup—the real one is not going down on rec center floors. 

Yoongi is already repeating his apologies to you. 

Well, shit. May as well have some real fun with it now. If they can get the other team to call it quits here, they may have a shot at an easier standoff later. 

Right. 

—

—

Yoongi doesn’t like this one bit. The other team was too quiet to just have left without a word. 

They really will be meeting them in the parking lot. And suddenly, things get a little too real. 

This walk could be the last, depending on what they may have on them. The only shit those guys have against them is that this is a public center, and there could still be a lot of witnesses walking by— 

Thunder rumbles as they reach the end of the long awning jutting out from the rec center entrance, and Yoongi looks at the dark sky with lidded eyes.

Fuck. So much for people passing by. They may be left out there on their own for real.

“Still?”

At Jimin’s question, Yoongi nods. Because they still have to confront this group of cowards one last time, pouring rain or not. Revenge is never one to raincheck. 

Maybe they bluffed. Maybe the storm settled in some seconds thoughts. The lot still looks fine, with cars emptying out one by one as they walk and the space getting more scarce. Your brother’s car and Jimin’s exist in the same spot a ways down near the end. 

With more than an alarming number of guys surrounding them. 

Is that a whole fucking crew? Fuck, this was not the plan you need to get out of here and anywhere else but your place. 

Before Yoongi can say anything, your brother beats him to it. “Taehyung. Get her out of here. Now.” 

And your scream of resistance tears through every cell in his body. 

Yoongi can’t even fucking look at you, even if to burn the image of your face in his mind to get through this bullshit. Because if he does? He’ll be the one hauling you away and bringing you both to the safest place he can think of without a second or third thought. 

But he will not inconvenience his loving mother with a sudden visit just yet. When he finally brings you home, it will be for a different reason entirely. 

“No! What the fuck—” 

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—! No, let me go!” 

This is the thought that will keep him grounded. It has to. He has to face this situation because from the way things are looking, if they don’t settle this now, it will only get worse. For them, for you, for everyone. 

Fuck, your voice. It’s taking everything for Yoongi to keep his anger in check because, despite his malice, he’s the one that ultimately started this. He thought he was in the clear. What a fucking joke fuck you’re clawing at his ducts and he doesn’t need to look at your brother to know what he’s thinking. 

The man is fucking silent. 

And this is the one Yoongi remembers with full body shivers. The protector. The one that will do whatever’s necessary to save the ones he loves. This is the guy Yoongi has to eventually confront, if they—when they—get out of this situation in decent pieces. If your brother did what he did for him? What the fuck is he gonna do for you? 

But in all fairness. For the first time, Yoongi understands this side of his best friend. Because for you? There’s no limit to what he would do to keep you safe. What a fucking shame he’d left you in the dark for that long. If you hate him after this, he’ll deal with it. At least that means you were safe enough to say it. 

Woosung warned him. And Yoongi still didn’t heed the signs. 

But no use dwelling in it now. Your screams have morphed into sobs as Taehyung hauls you away. And with quick observation, Yoongi notices that even some of the faces he’s watching falter. 

You’re his everything. Your brother’s everything. And he fucking hates himself for all those opportunities he had to be by your side, all those times he could’ve just confessed but couldn’t because of his own damn faults. 

Rolling his shoulder, Yoongi braces for the storm, your brother finally speaking with a clutched phone behind his back as soon as you’re out of earshot, 

“Last chance.” 

The man from Dalo shoots out a huff of disbelief. “For what, motherfucker.” 

“To back off my fucking car.” 

Thunder rattles some of the guys into a step back, but your brother doesn’t move. Resolute, he brims with sinister energy, its bristles curling around Yoongi’s legs and hardening Jimin’s shoulders. Even some of the guys from the team have stayed behind, which doesn’t come as a shock seeing as how close they are with your older sibling. 

“That’s your play?” Dalo guy drawls before looking around. “Outnumbered and you’re worried about a little paint scratch?” 

Your brother only smirks like he has a secret. And Yoongi knows full well that it’s a bluff that always works like a charm. “I mean, I’d be worried if I were you, but. If you can skip a few months’ rent to pay off the damages, go ahead.”

More of the guys shuffle in nervousness, which is the sign they all need. If they actually leave, things should end quicker. All they have to do is hold it out long enough for them to talk. 

“How about this,” the man suggests, poison trickling down his curve before he swings his bat right into the side mirror of your brother’s car fuck. “Let’s see how many swings it takes for you to stop me.” 

“I’m gonna guess a few,” your sibling drawls under the blare of his car alarm, expertly hiding the fact that he’s pissed as another swing hits the passenger door. “Give or take.” 

“You shut the fuck up,” the leader growls, smashing the nearest window right out and grinning into the vehicle. “Oh, what’s this? I’ll take that, thank you.” 

“Don’t.”

Yoongi’s blood freezes as he sees exactly what the guy takes, noticing the matching polaroid that your brother has of you that’s always on the dash. 

Oh, fuck this noise and fuck this guy. Now he’s waving it like a little trophy? All bets are fucking off. No amount of morals will help him now and your brother turns downright murderous. 

“Think I’ll get a lot of good use out of this,” the assaulter boasts with a sinister grin, shoving the picture in his pocket that Yoongi can only assume reeks of sweat and cowardice. Thunder booms once more, and droplets start pinging off shoulders and sweaty heads. 

He wants to hurl thinking of what the guy means, and he doesn’t even realize he’s one step further than before until an arm stops him at his chest. Turning, Yoongi sees his best friends’ eyes ablaze but still facing forward, and he stops his strides—mind racing with rage. 

“Your girl looked good today, by the way!” The Dalo guy appraises with a lift of his chin, rain running down his angular cheekbones and staining his dark mesh. Yoongi snaps his gaze forward again because shit this is being addressed to him. “We got a nice view from our bench.” 

Fuck this dude. What the fuck is happening to his spiking heart rate? Is it anger? The rain? A thunderous mixture of both? 

On heavenly cue, thunder tears through the sky again, raindrops starting to pick up just to drown this guy’s talking, 

“Think it’s time for me to see her again? Her skin’s so soft, bet it feels like heaven when y’all fuck, huh?”

Don’t fucking break, don’t fucking break, stop clenching both fucking hands. 

“Not gonna share?” The man turns to your brother with the evilest glint in his eye. “Guess I can always stop by and ask her myself.” 

When the sky rains down in sheets, everything erupts at once. 

—

—

Gritty, darker days of the past melt into Yoongi’s vision as the night blurs and roars around him. 

For a brief moment in time, he doesn’t think they’ll make it. Youth has slipped its protection from their bones, taking the recklessness of their souls with it. They haven’t done this in ages. And it fucking shows.

Because Yoongi’s side hurts like a motherfucker and his palms sting with white hot singe. Rain and bodies slow in their motion as he takes it all in, and his eyes droop as he shifts closer to his friends—mind swirling like the lights pulsing down the street.

Your brother smacks into wet ground before wrenching himself back up, and a Jimin sporting a botched eye yanks him backward before distancing them all from another hit. The other guys from the team shield their blind spots, everyone now mangled and boxed in tighter and tighter.

This is because of him. He did this. He did all of this.

Mind and skin slick from the rain, his guards crumble. Dark thoughts flood back in and inundate his every crevasse. You deserve to hate him and you should you should you should. 

A prideful laugh erupts before yelling out, “Let’s get this over with, yeah?” 

“You aren’t gonna do shit,” your brother taunts.

“Think so?” As the man reaches behind his back, Jimin’s voice pierces like an arrow, 

“Watch it!”

Acting without thought, Yoongi bolts to his friend, knowing what to do but not having a plan for what’s next oh fuck what’s this guy pulling out—

“Yoongi!”

If anything, he can at least go out with the knowledge that he kept your brother safe. You’ll be safe with him. Yoongi will find a way back to you even if it takes another lifetime or two. 

Rain roars down as something dark is pulled from the man’s pants. But Yoongi can barely make out what it is as he shoves your brother out of the way.

"No!"

He's frozen. He can't fucking move. Your bright light is the only thing that flashes into his mind as he stares into glinting, vengeful eyes.

But everyone else will be safe. That is the most important. The only thing that matters. 

Suddenly, sirens sound from a ways down, everyone flinching in the downpour. Lights swirl and swirl, and it’s your brother’s exhausted admission that shocks everyone, 

“Those are for you, by the way.”

“The fuck?” The man backs up immediately, shocked when half the guys are already scrambling off. “You fuckin’ snitched?”

“What can.. I say,” your sibling huffs through heavy breaths. “Don’t mess.. with my fuckin’ car.”

“Bullshit.” 

“Stay if you want.” Straightening with a repressed wince, your brother sets a hand on Yoongi’s good shoulder before walking right up to the man that assaulted you, weapon in hand be damned. “It’ll make it easier for them to spot you. You know, with all the cameras and shit.” 

“…Huh?”

“We’re in a public lot, genius.” He wipes blood from the side of his face, looking up behind him at the very obvious camera positioned on the nearest floodlight. “And if we run the tape back, y’all smashed my property.” 

The man slowly smiles. “And you’re on the same footage instigating a fight. What if I just…” Something happens between their bodies, but Yoongi can’t see what. “Do it right here? Defend myself?”

Your brother raises his shoulders before exaggerating a sigh. “See, the thing is…” Hands on his hips, he reminds Yoongi of you, flinging him back to a very similar rainy afternoon with much less harrowing stress. How he’s remaining so calm is unfathomable. “You broke into my car and stole from me. Anyone seeing that footage—you know, before the rain—is just gonna see… Well, us trying to stop you.”

The sirens get louder and louder, and more of the guys have long gone by now. But your assaulter stays in disbelief, eyelids blinking away rain and arms shaking. “They can’t catch me from those cams.”

“Probably. But they can pick up your voice from my recordings.” Looking down, your brother finishes with bored finality, expertly ignoring the fact that he's millimeters from death. “And you have my picture in your pants, dumbass.”

Yoongi’s never seen someone slam a hand into their pockets so fast. As the polaroid falls into puddles, a voice quivers while something is tucked back in wet pants, “Fuck you.” 

Before he can run, the man gets snagged by his jersey, sirens blaring closer and closer as your brother unleashes his final threats, “Since you did the smart thing and spared me, I'll be nice. But I don’t wanna see you, I don’t wanna see any of them. Come around again, and I’ll make sure you never see daylight, you understand?” 

Fully rattled, the man throws his hands up with a growl, “Fine, I got it! Fuck!” 

With the last dashes of a coward, the team is left alone in the lot. 

Turning their drenched heads and shoulders just in time to see the cops fly by.

—

—

After a quick check to make sure no one’s sporting a major injury, all the team members that stayed are told to go home before any other cops come to ask what’s up. Your brother finishes calling a tow truck for his battered pride and joy, and Yoongi rejoins him with a very silent Jimin. 

Even though the rain never stops, the three of them wait until everyone else is driving off. Until everyone else is safely on the way back to some place dry. 

When alone, the three of them turn to each other without a single word. 

It’s done. It’s really done.

—

—

Just sliding into the passenger seat of Jimin’s car makes Yoongi hiss in pain. 

Groans from the others fill the humid space, and Jimin makes sure the lot is completely cleared again before watching his rearview mirror. “How the fuck did you know the cops would come?” 

“I didn’t.” 

Jimin’s good eye widens. “That was just coincidence?” 

“So was the rain being this bad.” 

Fucking hell, they lucked out on every single thing they could’ve lucked out on. If it went down any other way? At least one of them would’ve been lying face down on pavement. 

Swallowing, Jimin clutches his wheel with one hand before asking next, “Well.. What are you gonna do? You leave tomorrow, right?”

They’re about to talk about the towed, smashed car he called in. So Yoongi’s just gonna lean into his seat and try to fucking breathe. 

“Yeah,” your brother huffs out. “Umm. I’m not sure. There’s no getting out of this trip, and I can’t exactly tell my boss what happened.” 

“Need us to bring it into the shop tomorrow?”

“Really? Damn, that’d be perfect, thanks. I’ll just get a ride to the airport in the morning then.” 

Yoongi winces to himself as he adjusts, hearing a groaning curse from the backseat at the same time. “You sure you’re good to leave tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright.” The man sighs. “Couple hours of ice and some bandages should do it. And the suits will cover most of me up.” 

“K.”

Jimin starts the car, hand gripping the center console so hard his veins pop. “I gotta say… That was the first time I’ve been that scared. In a long time.”

The whole space falls silent in agreement.

It’s your brother that croaks out next. “The last time we were in shit that deep.. Yoong got his back thrown into that barbed fence.”

At that, Yoongi looks out the window.

“But the important part is that we made it. And they won’t be coming around now that we have shit on them. Fuck, the way I wanted to just—”

Yoongi cuts his sentence off immediately, “Luckily you chose logic.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“We just all have someone to live for now,” Jimin grits out with frustration. “So can we just.. Not do this anymore?”

Another hush of understanding falls over the group, and everyone quietly agrees. 

“Good.” Jimin rolls his car forward and starts calling someone, setting his phone down while Taehyung’s name shows on his car screen. 

“Hey.”

He answered. Which means you’re right at his side. Fuck, Yoongi’s heart is pounding so hard it’s drowning out the rainfall. Your voice. He needs it. He’ll take anything you have to say. 

“Hey.” 

“You okay?”

Jimin’s tongue prods his cheek. “Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

“Say it.”

As Jimin relays the damage, Yoongi starts picking at his fingernails in nervousness, something he hasn’t done in so long but still feels like second nature. “My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—” 

“Where is he.”

Oh. That’s really you. 

Shit.

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. What the fuck is he laughing for? What about any of this could possibly be funny? 

“This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?” 

“With us,” Jimin slowly answers, as if this suspense is good for anyone. “In the car.” 

At least he has enough mercy to start out with including your brother. Hopefully that first response was enough to clue you in before saying anything more damning. Not that something damning wasn’t already said. Fuck, this wasn’t exactly what Yoongi meant when he said he wanted to hear you. But goddamn if his soul isn’t already pulsing at the thought of you asking about him. 

After another beat, Jimin decides to spell it out for you. And Yoongi feels like he’s about to dangle from a precipice. “Your brother’s here, too.” 

“Ah… Am I on speaker.” 

Both Yoongi and Jimin look at the center screen, already knowing your brother is looking, too. “Umm.. Yeah.” 

Whatever Yoongi thinks you’re gonna do or say? Is nothing compared to what you actually do. He hasn’t been this chewed out in ages and the pit in his stomach morphs into a void.

“Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.” 

The man in the back tries to cut you off to no avail. “Hey, wait a damn minute—” 

“I waited long enough!” 

Yoongi physically feels his whole soul sag with guilt, guilt, guilt. 

“I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.” 

“He was gonna—”

“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” 

Yes, they all know. In fact, Yoongi is still mentally running from that one split second of terror. If the dude from Dalo was reaching, that could only mean a couple things and he doesn’t wanna think of either one. How the fuck is he supposed to face you now? When he almost got—

“Just tell me one thing… Is this gonna happen again?” 

That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.” 

Yoongi hopes to everything in the universe that it’s true. Judging by the fear in those eyes? The way they all ran? There’s no way they’re coming back. But the adrenaline pulsing through his cuts and bruises gives some room for doubts. 

“Okay… Are you okay?” 

Your sibling answers yet again, making things seem much less concerning than they really are. As usual. “Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.” 

“Fuck that.” 

“Huh?” 

“Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am. I’m going to Yuri’s.” 

That shake in your voice will stay for a very, very long time. Even as his best friend dares to question you, Yoongi’s throat remains shut. “What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.” 

“I just—No.” Fuck. Your pause is the loudest thing. It’s long enough to make them all think you’ve hung up, but he has a feeling the next thing you say will crush him. 

And he’s right. 

“I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.” 

You mean that. There’s no doubt in Yoongi’s mind that you’re dead set on cutting them all off with no hesitation. And they all deserve it, especially him. What they did tonight was idiotic and could’ve been avoided in a thousand ways. You have every fucking right to be furious. Truthfully, you’re kinda letting them all off easy.  

Once again, your brother is the spokesperson for the car. Because why would anyone else be, right? “…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.” 

“…Of course you don’t.”

And you hang up so fast it cuts Yoongi’s breath in two. 

Silence follows. Followed by a multitude more. Unspoken thoughts are forming dark clouds in the car, stuffing the space and jamming cotton in everyone’s ears. 

In the rear view mirror, Yoongi watches his friend rub both hands over his face before a fist bangs against leather upholstery, Jimin reacting immediately with a quick,

“Behave.”

“Sorry.” A rustle of clothes and guilt follows. “I just… My sister’s right. What the fuck are we doing anymore? This one was stupid.”

“All the fights we’ve been a part of have been stupid,” Jimin tuts, looking over his shoulder and wincing before turning a corner. “Fuck, my eye.”

Yoongi offers with a hand still slung over his waist, voice hoarse, “Need me to drive?” 

“No one with a death wish gets to drive my car.” Jimin hisses out another whoosh of pain. “But no, I can make it to his place.”

“K.”

“And she’s right.” Jimin rolls to a stop at the next light. “Even if tonight was coming, this could’ve been prevented. Or done another way. Honestly, I’m surprised we made it out.”

“Same,” Yoongi agrees. 

“Glad I got his shit recorded,” your brother sighs, wincing while adjusting his seat. “They shouldn’t be able to refute the recordings in court—fuck—if it gets to that point.”

“What happens if they—”

“Forget about them,” Yoongi interjects, earning two looks of shock and feeling a little surprised himself. When the car starts moving again, he works his hurt jaw, trying to figure out how to word his ever twisting thoughts. “We didn’t tell her anything and that’s where we fucked up.”

Did that come out too upsetting? Can he blame it on his aching side? Does it even matter anymore? Does anything?

“How do you know that.”

Stiffening ever so slightly, Yoongi uses his battered side as an excuse to shift. Wincing, he looks at the center console, choosing not to peer out the window on purpose. Face this shit now. Tell the truth in parts to control it,

“She told me.” 

Jimin doesn’t acknowledge that answer, instead turning at the next corner and checking his mirrors. 

“When.” 

Motherfucker. Yoongi’s mouth is drying out so fast he doesn’t taste the blood anymore. Everything feels like sandpaper, scratching his tongue, tearing his esophagus to shreds. The rasp that results rips his throat red,

“After—”

“After I told her everything,” Jimin jumps in, throwing a blanket over his fire. As Yoongi gives him a look, he continues with eyes on the road, “At that party you hosted a few days after you came back.”

Thank god the blond knows to step up when he’s needed. Yoongi still can’t think straight and was about to admit he called you during that party. Full on busted. And how would that have gone? 

“The party I…? Oh, the one that Sunday? Fuck.” Your brother wipes his lower face before shutting tired eyes. “I remember now. Cus I was gonna tell her back then, but everyone started coming over.” 

“We should’ve told her before Dalo even happened,” Yoongi says with a sag to his voice. 

Thankfully, all suspicion and tightness is gone from your sibling’s voice. Only agreement resonates. “Yeah.. Yeah.” 

More silence washes over the car, sweat and rainwater caked on skin while blood hardens in layers. Though Jimin makes no comment, Yoongi knows he’s gonna pay for any damages just sitting in here will accrue. 

Rolling up to your house, Jimin parks in the driveway, all of them still wordlessly suffering because of all the shit he started. 

Yoongi can’t see it any other way. This all happened because of him, whether his best friend says so or not. Yeah, he threw that punch on the court back then, but Yoongi’s the one that fell for the taunts. How fucking stupid. And to think he thought all of this would just, what, go away with time? 

You reached for him on the court this last game. You were begging for him to tone it the fuck down. Once again, he didn’t listen, blinded by the anger boiling over—at that coward, and at himself. 

But you’re safe, your brother is safe, and everyone that fought today is fine. Yoongi’s gonna count every blessing that he can before the darkness wins again. 

“Thanks for driving, Chim,” your brother grunts as he opens the door. “And Yoongi?” 

He turns to look his way. Staring right into those eyes laser focused and exhausted to hell all at once. Not even the pouring rain can divert either of them from breaking contact. 

“Get out of the fucking car.”

Fuck.

Yoongi works his cheek before grunting out of the doorway, winding the car and knowing Jimin is on high alert inside. If this is about you? If this is the battle he was supposed to fight for months? 

Maybe he’s not making it out tonight after all. 

As soon as Yoongi gets close, he’s yanked forward by the collar, eyes unmoving as he knows not to flinch. He’s gonna own his shit, as much as he’s scared out of his fucking mind right now. 

Words rip low from your sibling’s lips, “Whatever the fuck you did? Don’t even think about doing it again.” 

And there it is. 

The door he’d been so desperate to open has been sealed completely shut, caught in this torrential downpour and retreating so far back he can’t see it any longer. “I’m sorry,” he rasps out. “I was gonna—”

“Jimin’s right. You got a fucking death wish? What the fuck is wrong with you? How would you think I wouldn’t figure it out?” 

Ice blocks all his veins, freezing his chest over and chilling him below his bones. Everything from the moment you knocked on his door to now comes rushing past his vision and breaking in lightning quick snaps. 

All Yoongi wanted to do was protect you. And now he’s gonna lose both of you. 

Shoving him backwards, your brother growls out. “I just… Are you fucking serious?” He sighs to the ground, rain drenching his already slicked head and steaming shoulders. “You got one life, and a future bright as fuck. Stop throwing it away so easily, or we’re done.” 

What?

Now Yoongi’s eyes jolt for another reason. Shock thrums and resets his body, forcing it to grapple with the real conflict between them. “This is about me saving your life?” 

“What the fuck else would it be!” Your sibling rushes forward and shoves him again, and Jimin is fully springing out of his car now. “The fuck were you thinking?”

“What the hell are you two doing?” 

“You’re fucking kidding me. Are you serious? He was about to—”

“I can handle my own shit!”

Jimin keeps a bull from charging again, full on forcing him back. “What the fuck!”

“I can save you from an idiot with a gun,” your sibling grits out like it’s hurting him from the inside, “But not her, dude.” 

Her? What the fuck?  

“Yeah, don’t think I believed you for a fucking second. She’s still there, huh? I can see it all over your face!”

As Jimin stills in his pushing, Yoongi’s feet start to get tugged into the earth. 

“Look at you. Gone for days at a time, starting shit on the court, and just—throwing yourself out with no plan? Do you even care about your life anymore?”

Thunder cracks the sky once more, punctuating his words on impact.

And it's Jimin’s turn to shove his friend back, voice tightened in ice, “I suggest you choose your next words very carefully.”

“Do you?”

Life slows around Yoongi, magnifying the pain he feels in his side and the blow he took straight to the lip. Everything hurts. Everything’s numb. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this isn’t what he bargained for at all. And even though it’s been forever since he’s seen his ex, he can feel her ghost howling and grinning like a victor, tearing his heartbeats to shreds. 

Your brother’s right about her still being burrowed in his place. That has been the case for months and he needs to fix that. But caring about his life? Of course he does. Did it look like he was just throwing himself out? Truthfully he doesn’t remember everything he did he just acted on pure instinct. “That’s not.. It’s not like that—”

Shucking off a persistent Jimin, your brother straightens and backs up a step. “Someone to live for, huh? Yeah, count me the fuck out. Her? What the fuck, Yoong?” 

No. Not this again. Say something. Say fucking anything to fix this shit. The dread that settles into his stomach is finding permanent residence because he’s about to lose his best friend for the wrong reason, “Listen, I—”

“Save it. As long as you’re still with her I am done.”

The panic in Jimin’s eyes matches his own, his hands trembling as he keeps them separated, “It’s not like that, okay? Both of you need to—”

“Get out.”

Yoongi and Jimin still, with the latter asking a shocked, slow, “What?”

“You heard me.” Your brother backs up towards the house, rain falling in rivers across his skin and failing to hide the streams from his eyes. “Get his ass home. I’m not saying shit until she’s gone.” 

“But she’s—she’s not even—”

“I’m out.” 

—

—

Rain stains the windows of Jimin’s car in splotches. 

After the entire drive goes by in silence, Yoongi slides tired eyes up to see his place coming into view. 

“Yoongi.” 

He doesn’t respond. 

“I’m staying with you tonight.” 

Shutting down, he gives his friend a shoulder so cold even he regrets it. “No.” He knows Jimin’s already red-rimmed and teary. So he keeps his head down and arm slung over his waist. “Taehyung needs you.” 

“Please,” Jimin begs, voice wavering and full of fear. Which is justified. He knows what will happen if he’s left alone. “I’m staying. I can get him and we can both stay, just—”

“Not tonight.” 

A sniffle is the only response. “I fucked up. I’m so sorry I messed it all up, but please don’t do anything when I’m not there to—”

“I’ll be fine.” Yoongi clicks the door open, greeted by the boom of thunder and endless rain. He can hear the desperation in his best friend’s pleas, but this is something he can’t let anyone witness. Not feeling in control of his body is frightening, and he needs to be isolated. Again.

Before shutting the door, he turns. “This is something I have to do alone.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’ll… I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” 

More sobs wrack Jimin’s body as he wipes his bruised eye with shaky fingers. “Promise me there’s a tomorrow.” 

Oh. Jimin thinks the worst. Fuck, Yoongi is hurting all of his friends in every fucking way possible. “Chim,” he sighs, rain lowering his temperature so much he shakes. “It’s not like that at all. K?” 

“Okay.” 

“I just… Yeah. We’ll talk about it when I’m ready.” 

“Yoongi,” Jimin halts him right as he’s closing the door. “I really am sorry.” 

And he looks down at the seat he just occupied, rainwater and sweat and regret and relief all sunk into leather upholstery,

“Me, too.” 

—

—

As Yoongi stumbles into his apartment, he doesn’t bother to turn the lights on. Why would it matter if all they’ll do is highlight the repercussions of his decisions? The stupid fucking decisions ever since the day he damned you all. 

A shadow snickers, wrapping around his brain and forcing him to recite them all once again. Just like he had been over the last three months. 

Yoongi’s shoes trip over nothing as he stumbles, careening to the floor and smacking a bruised shoulder on impact. White hot pain zings up his limb, shoving out a curse and a wheeze as he lies still because he can’t. Fucking. Move. 

All he wanted to do was protect you. Those guys were loaded with dark intentions and he lost it defending your honor. But that doesn’t negate the fact that he put you and your brother in danger. He’s the one that started the fight on the court that day, he’s the one that messed up by making you feel unwanted. Danger? He put you in that. The club? He put you in there, too, and almost tore his mind apart when he saw what happened to you there. What did you say to him afterward? When you both were in the safety of your own bed? 

“I was so scared.” 

Yoongi punches the floor, gritting his teeth before willing himself to get. Up. Limb by limb, muscle by muscle, he slowly rises to his feet, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his damp, bloody clothes. Because it’s done. The danger won’t reach anyone he cares for any longer, and yet… 

He can barely change into new garments as his mind flashes with more reminders, like how he messed up rushing to defend you at the party, making his best friend silently size him up and wrenching daggers in his side. Even leaving you to deal with his shadow fucked you up, because he couldn’t bring himself to tell you why he even left in the first place. 

But there’s a lot of that hesitation going around. After all, he hasn’t even confessed to you brother yet. Just the thought makes him want to hurl, and he almost does. 

But Yoongi quickly shakes his head, as if doing so flings the memories away. He stalks through his living room, his path illuminated by the flashes of lightning and shaken by the booms of angry thunder. 

You may as well command the very skies. Because your rage seems to mirror them tonight, and he cannot blame you one bit for tearing them all apart. God, he can’t get that tremble in your voice out of his fucking head. You sounded so hoarse, so broken, so defeated and yet so strong. 

In a screwed up way, Yoongi is proud of you for telling them off, setting off a new conversation that ended in them making amends to how they settle things from now on. They all deserved that as much as they needed it. 

You’re too good for him. Yoongi has thought this once before, but it’s more than true now as he stops at the corner of his living room. The darkest one. The one that's been driving him to the brink of insanity and back again.

It’s so loud right here. 

Darkness winds around him in waves, only fleeing when lighting floods the room. His face pulses in pain just as much as his side, and he hunches forward, almost touching the neck of his black guitar case. 

Yoongi can only stare. 

He messed up a lot of things. He knows that. And yet, you haven’t run from him once. Even when he fucked up again, and again, and again, you never ran. That day you almost walked out the door? Yoongi’s heart crumpled and squeezed when he saw you turn right back, eliminating that stabbing fear in his chest and replacing it with a heal of hope. 

But you finally cut him off tonight. 

And honestly, that was the best decision you could’ve made. 

Gripping the firm cloth of the case, he unzips from the top, moving in slow, calculated motions. Thunder rumbles overhead, and he almost flings back to the first time this instrument of disaster was gifted to him. But he fights the memory, quietly choking the guitar by the neck and lifting it from its confines. 

He hears it gasping. Fuck, he hears the screaming. 

And therein lies the root of his manic war. 

This isn’t just an instrument. This isn’t just an object. 

It’s a life. 

If he does anything to it, the guilt will forever mar his conscience. He’ll carry this violence wherever he goes. 

But what else can he do? If he throws it out and someone finds it, the shadow can come back to haunt him. Or inflict its power over someone else. Is that too much of a stretch? Is he truly going insane now? 

A fuck up. A screw up. For as long as he can remember, Yoongi believed those were all used to describe him. However, if you have taught him one thing in the time he’s orbited your presence, it’s a simple fact. He may be a fuck up, and he may be a screw up… 

But he was still a good person. 

Those labels plagued him for years, had him questioning his very existence and rocked him off balance every time he stepped out of line. 

All this time, those words were a projection, flung at him with the intention of making them stick until he couldn’t rub them off. Mud, mud, so much mud had been flung onto his brain and buried his very essence so far deep that he couldn’t even find it anymore. Even his vision dulled, colors looked less vivid, life didn’t feel worth living. 

But Yoongi has fucking had it with the sludge. He already faced your nightmare head on just to keep you safe. If he had to trudge through a thousand miles of sludge next just to get to you? He’s doing it. Because you’re so fucking worth it and he’s not wasting anymore fucking time on these lies, these half-truths, this bullshit. 

Tightening fingers around polished wood so hard that strings bite into his skin, Yoongi turns, lightning flashing and casting his own shadow into his room. 

His shadow. No one else’s. He’s not letting there be two of them in here any longer. 

The screaming reaches a shrill cry.

A dizzying thought roars in his brain once more, crumpling him at the waist and making his ribs sting. Breaths ragged, he squeezes both eyes tight and heaves at the painful pulse of his head. 

That whole time away didn’t even matter, did it? All it took was one phone call to have your brother on his ass yet again. 

Fuck. Is he gonna have to keep his distance again? Shit. He didn’t think about that under all the pain he’s sporting right now, all the mental assault he’s enduring because it is relentless tonight. 

Goddamn it. He can’t deal with another three months away from you. Even three days without you sounds like agony and death right now, because he has to spend his days and nights with the monster in his hand. The dark will await him once more, but he doesn’t want it anymore. It’s not part of him. It’s not it’s not it’s not. 

Eyes slowly opening, Yoongi slowly straightens as much as his ribs allow, shifting his lidded eyes to the weight he carries. 

Get rid of it. 

Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 

But how? He can’t move to throw it away. His feet stay glued to the floor as he struggles to even carry it another second. His chokehold slips, staccato notes giving way to a cacophonic hum as the bottom of the instrument hits the floor. 

Get rid of it. 

It’s like you’re speaking to him. But how is that possible? Is this what happens when one descends into madness? Because that’s what Yoongi feels in the marrow of his bones. Burdened by the fact that no matter what he does, he’s gonna mess it all up. No matter what he tries, it will be in vain. He’ll never be happy. He’ll never get the future he wants. The future with you. With you, with you, with you, wasn’t he just fighting for you? What the fuck is happening to his brain? 

Get rid of it. 

He can’t. 

Get rid of it. 

He can’t. 

Throw it out. All of it, all of it. 

…Can he? 

Yoongi struggles to breathe, heaving out dry, bitter struggle once again. His limbs almost give under the weight of the mud, the pile of sludge. The door seems so far away and he can’t crawl to it any more. There’s too much trash. There’s too much pain. 

Your voice rings across his mind one more, desperate time. 

Get rid of it. 

And someone’s wise words from awhile ago echo right behind like a ripple. A mantra. A reminder.

“If there’s something you need to get through...” 

Manic resolve seizes the reins. 

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Lightning flashes in slow motion as Yoongi doesn’t even feel himself. He hears the bangs, the crashes, the splinting of wood and shrieking of glass as something enormous tramples through his living room. But nothing feels real, his vision isn’t his, those lifts of his arms aren’t his doing as swing, after swing, after heavy final swing hits in front of him. 

This is everything he wanted to unleash in that parking lot. Every movement swathed in rage.

Strings snap, whipping out in all directions as glittery rain falls onto his rug and his floors, skittering in all directions and glinting off the storm light outside. 

His throat is hoarse. His ribs are worse. 

And his brain goes completely dark. 

—

—

When Yoongi blinks, his living room looks unfamiliar. 

Until he wakes amongst millions of shattered pieces, surrounding his bloody limbs in a descent suspended in time. 

Somewhere, what was once a guitar is split in pieces, slain in cold blood to be rid of the shadow inside. A death necessary for life. Yoongi vows to never break an instrument like that again. 

He did it. It finally happened. The only shadow he can see is his. 

…Right? 

Yes. Yes. It’s over.

—

—

Floating. 

Endless, endless floating. The ocean of his mind is calmer without the scepter in the room, but he’s so exhausted he can only move his eyes.

There’s a voice in the dark box he puts himself in. But that doesn’t make sense, does it? When he’s supposed to always end up alone. 

Jimin did his best. So did everyone else. But it’s a simple fact that, in the end, it’s only gonna be him here, listening to you call out to let you in.

Wait. That’s really you. You’re calling him? Has he been responding? When the fuck did he even answer his phone? 

No. You shouldn’t be here tonight. Not tonight. Not like this. 

Regret and anger fill him to the brim as he screams at himself to not push you away. But he will, breaking his own heart to save you from seeing him in his aftermath. You don’t need to see this. You should be miles from where he lies. 

“Not tonight.”

But on the other side of his door, you are fighting like you never have before. 

“Yoongi, I swear to god—” 

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”

Why? Why are you still there? Why are you trying so hard and why does your effort hit him square in the chest? In his mind, he’s reaching for the door but he can’t get there. Still so far away. But you’re screaming for him to try. Begging. 

“I’m serious.”

“No.”

“Go home.” 

“No!” 

It takes everything for him to utter your name, because he feels like even that he doesn’t deserve to say. 

He could hang up. He could just shut you out. So why isn’t he? Is he turning away, or clinging on to your outstretched hand? 

Yoongi knows why he’s still on the line. It’s because he needs you. Fuck, he needs you and yet he wants you the furthest distance possible. You can’t see this. Any of this. You’d cast him away and never look back.

Which is why he finally reaches the point of begging, “Please.”

Your silence drags on. Only the shaky, quick breaths you exhale fill the deadened air and squeeze his lungs. 

Go. Don’t go. Stay. Run. 

No matter what Yoongi begs you to do, he’s already screaming at himself to do something. Because even if he doesn’t let you in, you’re just gonna keep standing there. Three months you kept your distance, and you’ll wait another ten until he lets you in. That’s just who you are.

And that’s the you he fell in love with. 

But Yoongi feels the most broken he could ever feel. The most damaged, though the worst is over now. What are you going to say? How are you going to react? Will you run? 

Will you leave? 

Don’t leave. 

Don’t leave him alone. 

Heart on its last desperate breaths, Yoongi lies still, hoping you say something yet begging for you to take one last chance. 

He thought it was best to be left alone. And now he’s silently calling out for you to open the door. 

“…No.” 

His heart pulses waves throughout the living room, beating stronger and stronger and yanking his limbs into action. 

Breathe. Focus. Get the fuck up and walk, crawl, do anything but just get to the fucking door. 

So crawl he does. Across shards, across rainwater, across the damage he dealt to the last piece of him that needed breaking. Your effort cannot be left alone and he’s going to meet you halfway. 

Fuck, he’s still cold. Still wet. But he will keep crawling on forearms until he can muster the courage to stand up and let you in—no matter how long it fucking takes. The ground feels like sludge and dirt and blood and it’s so dark. He may drown here. But that won’t stop him because he will trudge through hell to reach your voice and this is one and the same. 

Almost there. 

Stand the fuck up. 

Unlock the door. 

As soon as your face comes into view, Yoongi doesn’t quite register what you say but he’s already preparing to—

With a sudden fit of strength, he grips your waist and tugs you back into him, both to keep your feet from danger and to selfishly feel the warmth of his only source of sunlight. 

You’re silent. You’re still. 

“I told you, doll.”

Your sob is all he needs to know. Instead of the pain of you choosing to leave, Yoongi gives you the out one more time. 

Despite desperately wanting you to stay right by his side. 

“Go home.”

-

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tbc in fugue, pt. iv

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so... thoughts before the last fugue? | join the server! | fugue pt. iv

a/n: we have one more part to fugue left, and if you guys remember everything that happens after reader sees the wreckage.. let's just say the rest is gonna be the most important, most heartfelt parts from yoongi's pov. i seriously cannot wait to share this last fugue chapter with you all, and i wanna do it the most justice i can offer. a/n 2: i love you all so much, and i've missed being here. thank you all again for being so patient with me as i work through an entire inner working of 3tan yoongi. i knew i wanted to take this on, but i did not account for how much it would affect me mentally. it's been a rough but necessary journey for the both of us. all we know for sure is that we needed to brave the sludge to end in full bloom. and that's where we are finally heading next. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

a/n 3: we have a slight goal to hit before 3tanfugue4 is posted! i want to make sure we have activity here before posting the next part, and some of you guys suggested that we have post goals to encourage interaction. so we're gonna try it and see how it goes! if we don't dig this idea, we can go back to normalcy after fugue4.