quiet ➫ yoongi-centric

1.3

Hoseok didn't spare him much of a reaction, a veil of pity and despair hid his eyes as he looked at the elder in his arms. 

"It's okay, it will get better- it will."

And Hoseok sounds so hopeful in his words that Yoongi might have found himself actually believing if it wasn't for the lingering voice, hidden deep somewhere in his mind. The same voice screams at his reflection, the one which serves him compliments laced with sarcasm and malice. The same voice which whispers in his ears as he tries to muffle his sobs. 

"What if..."

Yoongi finds himself trailing off, even whispering the idea of an alternative scares him till the depths of his soul. Hope is truly the only thing he has left now, and if he were to jinx that too- well then he really would never find an escape to the downward spiral he finds himself falling in. 

"There won't be a 'what if', Yoon-ie; I'll make sure there isn't"

Hoseok's words are murmured against the skin of his forehead and the warm breath fanning over his forehead crashes Yoongi into reality. It hits him like the sudden overturning of a bullet train- the fact that he finds himself on his knees on the rooftop of an abandoned building with his cheeks flushed from the chilly wind and his own gush of tears. On top of it, he has strong arms encircling him for the very first time, holding him against a warm chest as a gentle heartbeat hums in the background. The entire absurdity of the situation and the intimacy within the simple action of murmuring damps his eyes. A soft chuckle resonates from the pits of his chest as a strangled noise escapes him. He knows Hoseok is looking at him with concern but his blurry eyes remain focused on the flashes of light carving the city. Oddly enough, he finds the whole situation funny. Although the comedy in the scene he lies in roots more from tragedy, he finds it funny regardless. 

A scene straight from his most hopeful dreams where he comes clean, where he allows others to help him as they free him from his chains and heal the marks left behind. A scene that marks the beginning of a happier, light-hearted play - a modern paradise. His eyes briefly meet Hoseok's as he expects to find the younger one to break the silence. But the creases on his face and the look hesitation plagues his face. The silence drapes over them like a thick suffocating blanket, and Yoongi lets out a sigh. The rational part of his mind should have known that Hoseok would probably have a lot to disgust yet the irrational part which desperately latches onto strings of hope forces him to let his mind wander, even for a second and have greater expectations from those around him. He's been let down countless times, and he is aware it is stupid for him to expect those around him will throw the life vest first if he doesn't even signal that he is drowning. As the silence draws longer, Yoongi knows he is let down again. He begins to collect the correct words as a solemn sorrow slowly begins pouring into his lungs. 

"I think it starts off with the idea of being invincible. the stigma around depression and suicide starts when we begin to believe that we are untouchable, when we begin to look at those affected with pity and compassion but fail to realize how easily it could have been you in that place. Because to you, at that point, living is easy. living is getting up in the morning, it's talking to your friends, getting frustrated that you are late for your bus, sitting through the boring sessions and devouring your favorite meals at lunch. living is feeling emotions, and that seems like the easiest freaking thing to do until the line between living and existing blurs. you don't know when you quite stopped feeling anger at the man moving slowly in front of you or when the food you once loved started to taste like sandpaper. you don't realize when the bursts of purple and blue of the sky turned into a bland grey and when everything in life became monotonous. it's like everything shifts and suddenly you are in the background set of life, watching the scene change and lines being recited and you feel yourself floating between sets but you don't understand the play at all. and suddenly it hits you one day, the rush of life passing by, leaving you behind all alone. and you beg for it to stop for a moment, that you're tired, and life replies back saying 'just do it- it's not that hard' and you don't know how to explain that your legs feel like they are rooted to the ground. suddenly heights no longer scare you and you're willing to take a knife to your wrist just to feel something, just to know you're still here, you're still alive. and at that moment, you realize; what that one person you met so long ago felt like when you just couldn't understand why they wouldn't just leave their bed- because now you know how far everything seems. and you know, you really know- you've stopped living. you've been erased from your own life, that nothing really matters anymore. and then you're on your knees, praying, begging, hoping the universe gives you someone whose willing to hold your hand and pull you. tears are chocking you and there's a pressure building up on your chest and the pounding in your skull is getting worse, but you're praying, you're praying that someone is going to get you. someone is going to pull you back into the play, that someone's gonna save you. and sometimes, you don't realize when the hand grabs you or when it's missed you. and your prayers slowly fade into sorrowful mumbling and death becomes your only reality."