chapter twelve

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Yoongi couldn't sleep. Again. His anxieties biggest torture method was insomnia, and while his panic attacks were always bad, something about being physically and mentally unable to sleep drove him crazy. A panic attack could be over in five to twenty minutes, but a drawn out anxiety attack like this, that kept him unable to sleep for hours upon hours was an entirely different kind of torture, and it felt never ending. Yoongi sighs and turns onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He had been interchanging between staring at his wall, his other wall, and the ceiling now for about five hours, and he was sick of it. Yoongi felt as if he hadn't blinked throughout the whole entire time, despite closing his eyes repeatedly to try and unsuccessfully lure himself into the land of dreams. This was more exhausting than running a marathon.

Finally, yoongi relents to his restlessness and stands, padding quietly out of his room and into the kitchen. Chamomile tea and chocolate always helped him sleep when he was younger, so he hoped it would help him now. He had slept little more than two hours in the past two days, this was getting ridiculous. But his brain just wouldn't stop rattling off his every worry, relaying his every concern, over and over like a song on repeat. It was driving him mad, and there was no way to shut it off.

The image of his friends all lying in a pool of their own blood with giant gunshot wounds in their heads, while yoongi held the metaphorical gun, just wouldn't leave his mind.

Yoongi shakes the image away and opens the fridge, finding a block of dark chocolate far in the back and pulling it out. But when he reaches up to the proclaimed coffee and tea cabinet, he can only find green tea and peppermint. Fuck. He should have stocked up on the last grocery shop, but he hadn't had this issue in months, so he just didn't think to. Yoongi rubs a hand over his face in frustration, deciding he'll just pop down to the twenty-four hour convenience shop down the street. It was worth the effort if he could finally fall asleep, anyway.

Yoongi turns and makes his way back to his room, dragging his feet, and finds a black hoodie to pull on. That paired with his black face mask, grey sweatpants and the slides he was going to put on, he looked like a slob. Whatever, it was too late for anyone to expect anything otherwise. As yoongi pads back down the hall, he accidentally brings his toe out at an awkward angle, and just his luck, stubs it straight into the wall.

"Ow—fuck," he hisses, immediately falling to a crouch to cradle his throbbing big toe.

And, just his luck again, a few seconds later the door to his left was being cracked open, and a head full of messy dark hair was being pushed through to look down at him on the floor with bleary, confused eyes. "Hyung?" Jimin asks, rubbing his eyes with a closed fist.

"Uh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you — Just go back to bed Min,"

Jimin does the opposite and pushes the door open a little more, stepping out into the hallway and closing it behind his back. "I—I heard you curse, I thought you hurt yourself," the younger was such a light sleeper.

"Just stubbed my toe," yoongi answers like an excuse. "Go back to bed,"

"Why you awake?" Jimin mumbles, yawning, and then seemingly taking in yoongi for the first proper time, his eyes falling onto the face mask dangling off one of yoongis ears. "Where are you going?"

"Just out to the convenience store to get some tea," yoongi replies, then stands up because his toe wasn't throbbing anymore and he was getting sick of Jimin literally looking down at him on the floor. "I'm not going to be gone for long,"

"Hyung, it's like three o'clock, can't you go in the morning?"

Yoongi rubs the back of his head. "I can, but I kind of want to go to sleep and I can't without chamomile tea, so." It felt kind of stupid to admit out loud, but Jimin doesn't mock him, just keeps his slowly awakening eyes on him, and frowns.

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