➵ jimin
just when i thought i was making progress with yoongi, one night it all came crashing down.
i was at home, on the couch, working on a project for one of my classes when the front door opened and then shut loudly. i was home alone, yoongi having gone to the studio after dinner, so naturally i got up and went to investigate like all the stupid white people in horror movies.
but it was no gruesome villain waiting to cut me in half at my door, no, it was instead my very visibly intoxicated roommate, using the doorknob to hold himself up. "yoongi?"
he looked up, noticing me. a lazy grin spread across his face. "wass good, jimmy?" he attempted to make a step towards me, but wobbled and almost fell over.
"hyung, what happened? i thought you were working?" i asked as i rushed over and slid my arm around his waist, guiding him to the couch, where he flopped down and blinked slowly at me.
"i...i wass workin'," he slurred, sighing deeply. "then namjoonie 'vited me to this club for some drinkss."
i frowned. "well, let's get you to bed, okay? you'll have a wicked hangover in the morning, but you'll be fine." i wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him up from under his arms, and carried him up the stairs and into his room.
i heaved a sigh as i let go and yoongi rolled onto his bed. he grunted as he hit the sheets. "oww. 'm not a masochist, ya know."
i rolled my eyes. "whatever, hyung. do you need anything? water?"
he ignored my question but got to work attempting to undress himself. he managed to unbutton his jeans with great difficulty so i decided to help to speed up the process so i could just get back to working. i helped him slide his jeans off and crawl under the covers in his tee shirt and briefs, pulling the blanket up around his neck.
yoongi smiled at me. "thank you, jiminie. you know, yoonho would always tuck me in, when we were little."
i had been about to turn and leave, but that name made me stop in my tracks and look at yoongi. feigning ignorance, i sat down on the edge of the bed and played along. "oh yeah? who's yoonho?"
"he's my little brother. same... same age as you, actually. his birthday was last week... same as yours! october thirteen..." yoongi trailed off, staring at his ceiling and i panicked.
i was desperate to keep the conversation going. i needed answers, and if i could keep him talking, i might get them.
"what's he like? your brother?"
"he's great. i really love him a lot. he was always there for me when i was goin' through shit, and i needed someone to talk to. he would act all tough and try to protect me even though he's my dongsaeng, which is funny, ya know?" yoongi laughed. i nodded, smiling.
"do you talk often?"
yoongi's facial expression changed to something i couldn't quite recognize. it might have looked more like sadness if he hadn't been so drunk. "aah... well we were close until he died."
my heart skipped a beat, my mind racing. "he died?" my voice was quiet. "i'm so sorry, hyung." i reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it gently. but yoongi shook his head.
"and it was all my fault. i never...i never told him i was high, and i didn't see the truck, i was so tired–"
i could see yoongi getting worked up, so i decided to cut him off by pressing my lips to his. when i pulled back, his eyes were shut and his mouth remained open as soft snores escaped his thin lips. i chuckled, getting up off the bed.
as i made my way back to my own room, i couldn't stop thinking about yoongi's drunken confession. had he really been at fault for his brother's death? i couldn't imagine yoongi being responsible for a death, but then again that sort of traumatic experience would account for how he behaved and how he was so secretive about his past.
i'd hoped for answers, but now i was left with more questions than before.
***
i was in the middle of slowly eating a bowl of cereal when i heard yoongi's heavy footsteps thump down the stairs. i quickly glanced over my shoulder to look at the clock on the stove; it was 11:26.
"morning," i began carefully. yoongi grunted as he passed me to walk to the counter where the coffee machine was, and started to make himself a cup.
"did you find the painkillers i left for you on your table?"
"yes. thank you." yoongi said, his voice rough from sleep. he finally turned around, leaning against the counter.
"i, ah, take it you're not going into work today?" i asked, smiling lightly.
he sniffed. "not likely. you have class?"
"it's friday, hyung." he blinked, uncomprehending. "i don't have classes on fridays."
"oh. right." the coffee machine beeped, and he turned around to pour the hot liquid into his mug. taking a long sip, he stared off into space. "did i... do anything weird last night? while i was drunk?"
my heart leapt into my throat. "d-define weird," i nervously chuckled.
"i don't know, like say anything about... my family?"
i looked at him. "you shouldn't be afraid to tell me about your past, yoongi hyung. i'm in no place to judge. i'll care for you no matter what you did or went through."
"i told you about him, didn't i?" yoongi's stare was cold, and i shivered, looking away.
"how much did i say?"
"n-not much, just that he used to tuck you in when you were little, and that he died."
yoongi stiffened. "that's it?"
i glanced back up, and saw his lips pulled into a tight line. "yes, hyung. that's all."
he didn't say anything else, just taking another long sip of coffee. as he looked up to the ceiling, i swore i saw tears shining in his eyes, but it could have been the light playing tricks.
it was probably the lights, i told myself.