yoongi was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. he needed to clear his phone, or more importantly, his mind. he flicked mindlessly through a few folders, rolling onto his side and curling up, his hair dangling off the side of the couch. he looked through some memes, deleting the ones that no longer made him laugh, and looked few a few selfies, back when his hair was pink and he had a septum piercing. he noticed all the ones that had hoseok in it.
sighing, he clicked to select all and deleted all his selfies, along with hoseok's pictures. he never really liked his own face anyway.
he came across his favourite's folder, looking through it. in there, were three photos. he looked at the first one. it was a picture of yoongi sitting next to hoseok, his lips on yoongi's cheek, their milkshakes just in the short with a few booths behind them. he sighed, remembering the feeling of hoseok's lips and the taste of their meal. it was memorable.
he clicked delete.
he scrolled to the second picture, a photo of their first date. it was at a different, but very cozy, café, with fairy lights dotting shelves of hanging plants above deep purple booths, the seams slightly torn and old metal coasters. the photo was of hoseok, hiding behind his long sleeve and a small strawberry milkshake in front of him. he looked ethereal. but he remembered why they broke up, and he swiftly deleted it.
the last photo was them performing on stage together, mics almost pressing against their lips and screaming gleefully at some unknown song, the joy preserved in the image. he almost felt his heart leap again; the shape in which hoseok's mouth curled when he truly smiled was something mesmerising. but yoongi couldn't put the positives over the negatives.
hoseok had started seeing other men behind yoongi's back. they hooked him into drugs and it turned from once a week to every night that he was coming home drunk and high, so much so that he was unable to form sentences. he used yoongi, and yoongi was frightened, so he ran away from hoseok and lived with his brother for a little bit. he mindlessly turned the stud in his ear, one that hoseok had given him. he didn't want to take that out though. it had sentimental value, it meant a lot to him. a symbol of growth, if you must. to show that he can overcome anything and learn from it.
suddenly, he was a text pop up from up top his phone. he gripped his hair, breathing hard. it was hoseok.
ex – we need to talk. yoongi rolled his eyes, his tear ducts working overtime. he almost didn't want to respond, but he wasn't petty enough.
yoongi – no. im not associating with you anymore
ex – see, this is the problem with you. you never think about my feelings.
yoongi gripped his phone with immeasurable force, ditching his phone at the wall and screaming, gripping his sides, biting his lip to try not to cry. his whole body was shaking, his eyelashes splitting up into wet segments from being squinted together.
but he couldn't help it. he cried out, sobbing loudly and gasping for air, only to use it to sob again. he could already hear hoseok calling him weak in his head. he felt as though if he cried any harder he would throw up. he wiped his eyes, and returned to his phone, hiccupping every few seconds.
yoongi – café. fourth avenue. 5 pm. be there or not, i don't care. if you want to talk, we're talking there.
ex – sure. don't act like your in charge in this relationship.
yoongi – we don't have a relationship.
yoongi felt as though his words were harsh, but he couldn't care less. there was no need for sympathy in this conversation.
