Hoseok

— Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

Yoongi sat on his bed, his back to the door, looking out the window, thinking about everything at once: this room in the rehab center, his alcohol addiction, left outside this building.

There was a double knock on the door, as if warning. Only one person did that—Hoseok, knowing there were no locks on the door, always waited to be allowed in.

The curator entered the room not as an inspector or a supervisor—he was a friend, someone who understood the depths of silence and the screaming in his head. In his hands, he held not a clipboard with silly assignments, but two cups.

"Tea," he said simply, his voice devoid of false cheerfulness. "Mint. No sugar, you don't like it."

Hoseok carefully placed the drink on the nightstand next to Yoongi and then sank into a chair against the wall, keeping the younger's space private.

"Why are you doing this?" Min asked hoarsely, addressing him for the first time that day. His gaze fell on the scar on the back of Hoseok's hand—old, whitish, with the story he'd told him at the meeting.

Hoseok didn't answer right away, but for a moment, the depth of his own war, the one he had been winning anew every day since he became clean, flashed in his eyes.

"Because someone sat silently with me when I wanted to burn everything to the ground," he said finally. "And he didn't lecture me, he just was—that was enough to get me through another evening."