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46 - Recovery and Duality

In this story everyone needs to recover.
They have struggles, they have dark pasts and problems that affect them in the present.
They are haunted by their own actions.

Yoongi needs to recover, it wasn't his fault.
He was put into this hell by others and he couldn't escape. His urges are trying to kill him and he doesn't mind.

No one knew, not even Jimin. He was suffering but he didn't do anything about it, he merely just lived on. A husk of his former self.

Before things get better they have to get worse.

And things were about to get a lot worse for Yoongi. The resolve he had created to deal with his thoughts was about to be destroyed.

Jimin kept him grounded and stopped the devil's words from entering his mind but the more he tried to forget about what was in store for him; the more he remembered that he couldn't give Jimin everything he deserved.

And Jimin deserved the world. He loved him there was no doubt about that and the feeling was mutual between the two of them.

Yoongi has a problem, it's never going away. It's part of him.

But he can try and fix some of the other things that weigh heavy on his mind like his engagement.

We all know how he feels about the arranged marriage. Death seemed like the better option out of the two and Yoongi had to keep reminding himself that life was wonderful.

Even when it really wasn't.

Now let's delve into the depths of Yoongi's mind:

I'm telling them.

My family want what's best for them not me, don't they know that I'm important too and this is my future we're talking about not theirs.

Probably not.

They could abandon me, I had a new family now. One that accepted me no matter what.
I belonged with the parks, one day though Jimin would be a Min.

I hadn't told Jimin what I was doing. I felt bad about the fact that he would wake up alone but I left him a note and some food on the side.

I called my parents this morning to see if they were free in between any meetings and this was the only time they could do. It was far too early in my opinion but at least I was getting it out of the way.

I caught a taxi to my former home, they were still getting ready for the first meeting of the day, I felt too groggy to attempt to drive.

Everyone would be in danger if I drove in this condition.

I arrived at the place I grew up in. It hadn't changed apart from a lick of paint on the window panes maybe. My family were wealthy but the house didn't really reflect that.

Yes it was big but it wasn't a mansion exactly. My parents didn't like to show off our wealth, they had both grown up in poverty so they didn't see the point in shoving there money in other people's faces.

I agreed.

When I see people who flaunt their wealth I get the overwhelming urge to put them in their place if you know what I mean.

I rang the doorbell and the sound of it echoed around the empty house. Finally after a couple of minutes of standing on the door step; the door opened.

It was my Dad, he was dishevelled and his work clothes were slightly crumpled. I guess they weren't expecting me to actually turn up at this time but they were wrong.

We greeted each other like always. From an outsiders point of view they probably wouldn't realise that me and my Dad were related.

We didn't have a close relationship and that was shown by the awkward handshake I just had to endure.