To any outsider, Yoongi seemed to be engrossed in watching the intensity of the sunlight increase as the day moved forward. A normal slow afternoon as the dorm slowly filled with the gentle chaos of the boys. Joking accusations and the soft hum of conversation allowed Yoongi to slowly disassociate from the physical boundaries of being alive.
He's in the heart of a forest, crooked branches forming a boundary- entrapping him within the boundaries of the forest. The bare rays of light which escape into the forest are painted by an emerald green drowning the forest in an odd peace which hides dread. Dead leaves rest by his feet, covering the forest floor in a faded auburn. The air is clean, it's easier to breathe and the cool air fills him with a sense of calm he hasn't felt in a while. Something prompts him to reach out to the tree barks; the sensation of a rough, coarse material grounds him- reminds him of who he is. He's Min Yoongi, or at least that's who he used to be. In the forest, he doesn't have a name, he doesn't even exist. He's alone but not lonely, he's alive but not real, the trees provide a sanctuary but hide a sinister secret he refuses to acknowledge. Without his consent (or his knowledge really) his feet make their way through the forest. There's no end to it, not that he knows of, but he isn't sure he ever really wants to leave.
In that moment, Yoongi exists in two worlds simultaneously and in none at all, really.
✼ »»————- ✼ ————-«« ✼
Namjoon notices the stillness of the kitchen before he spots Yoongi huddled in the corner. His eyes are fixed at the small window, watching the moving world as he remains frozen in his place. Yoongi looks pretty, with his hair fluffy and the sunlight highlighting a sort of natural beauty Namjoon has seen very few people possess. Yoongi maintains the balance between masculinity and femininity perfectly, soft features contrasting sharper ones in a way that only suits him.
A sigh escapes Namjoon as he notices the distant look Yoongi's eyes possess. The look which reminds Namjoon of the bitter reality that he will never really know what goes in Yoongi's head really, just bits and pieces which he willingly shares. Slowly, he places a soft hand on Yoongi's shoulder in an attempt to catch his attention. Yoongi's eyes slowly shift back into focus, his muscles slowly tensing and releasing tension. Yoongi swallows, turning to look at Namjoon with a blank stare Namjoon has slowly learned to read. Apprehension buried behind indifference, filling Namjoon with answers he knows he will never get directly. Only clues, and it's up to him if he can align the clues to see the picture Yoongi has been painting for him for a while now.
"Are you okay, Hyung?"
Yoongi clears his throat before answering, "Just peachy."
"Uhmmm," The question in Namjoon's voice is evident, they both know it yet only one acknowledges it, "what were you looking at?"
"The sun rose late today"
"But it rose regardless, it will always rise. As it will always set, the day cannot last forever nor can the night."
"That's how it should work, I suppose"
"When does it not?"
But Namjoon's question falls on deaf ears, Yoongi has already made his exit. Namjoon watches Yoongi leave wordlessly, something is lingering in the air which has made its presence uncomfortably felt. A message Namjoon cannot decrypt, a message he's not sure he is meant to decrypt.
The microwave tings quietly to remind Namjoon of his purpose in the kitchen and just like that the message evaporates into where the little clues disappear, buried in the garden with buds which never bloomed.
Namjoon sighs as he adjusts his grip on the warm cup of coffee, leaving behind a coffee stain on the counter he knows someone will chide him for. But that's an issue for another day, and as Namjoon steps out of the kitchen; everything shifts back into the comfort of oblivion.
✼ »»————- ✼ ————-«« ✼
Guilt claws at Hoseok, the burden of the secret he holds clashes against the restraints of the emotional distress he would cause Yoongi. In essence, Hoseok is still a child, barely 22 with limited interactions with the real world, and certainly without the capability to deal with someone's complex emotions when he can barely process his own.
The dilemma in front of him worsens with time, to tell someone would essentially be betrayal and potentially losing Yoongi's trust. But to keep quiet to would be a murder, watching Yoongi kill himself slowly without ever stepping and if he ever does anything, Hoseok is sure guilt will take him not soon after. Taking to Yoongi is probably the safest approach, but the major flaw lies in the fact that Yoongi refuses to talk. Vulnerability is a concept he's always struggled with, what exactly Yoongi fears will happen if he bears his scars open is something Hoseok isn't sure he'll ever know. But help cannot reach Yoongi if he refuses to accept it, no matter what Hoseok does, at the end of the day it's Yoongi everything depends on. The mere thought of the amount of effort and time it would take to make any progress adds to the pressure Hoseok feels. The pressure to fix Yoongi and to make him happy again.
His heart is pure, as are his intentions. Yet the road to hell is paved with good intentions. What Hoseok doesn't recognize now is the fact that Yoongi simply cannot be fixed. He isn't broken, he doesn't believe he is broken. To him, a person cannot be broken. They can be lost, they can be lonely, they can hurt, upset- any other alternative one may come up with. But a person cannot be broken, because to be broken spears the hope that it may be fixed. And Yoongi truly cannot see beyond the grim future he imagines for himself.
There's something in the silent chaos his inner world holds, something which drowns out the people in the dorm- those who dance around him in bursting color unaware that he can only see greyscale. A sudden rage bursting in Yoongi's stomach fires him enough to get him through the week, a desire to go missing, to leave everything behind and disappear into somewhere no one sure exists. The fire burning in his fingertips and surrounding his vision as he spits out lyrics after lyrics. A burst of passion of sorts, passion fuelled by the fowl blessing of being alive and the harsh responsibility to survive.
The forest burns with the rage of a thousand muffled screams, anger bursting out in violent reds, yellows, and oranges scorches Yoongi (although it leaves no marks on his inner body). And yet Yoongi rather feel the bone-deep heat and the soaking of carbon dioxide soaking into in his lungs than the numbness of the water and chilling depth of the ocean which threatens to drown him as the forest burns to ashes.
hello! this chapter is all over the place but I just wanted to get something out while I could write. these few days of lockdown have really got me feeling like I wanna lie down in the rain and just have a good cry. anyway hope you guys are having a great day and thanks for reading! also if you guys could check out my fiverr account (linked below) and support ya girl, it would mean the world to me. see you guys in a week !
https://www.fiverr.com/share/2p9y9V
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quiet ➫ yoongi-centric
Fanfictionhis eyes are glazed over, bloodshot, as if he were crying for a long time. his lips are bitten and swollen; a deep red as if painted with blood. he wants them to ask if he is okay, he wants them to take him in their arms and protect him from the wo...
