Yoongi alcohol

— bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

Yoongi sits on the floor, leaning his back against the couch, clutching an empty bottle in his fingers. His phone is ringing off the hook with Jimin's calls—he rejects them one after another until someone starts pounding on the door.

Yoongi doesn't move. He stares at a point in front of him—where the streetlights' shadows blur on the wall. He feels like if he doesn't open the door, Jimin will leave. Like everyone else.

The lock clicks. Jimin stands in the doorway, disheveled and out of breath, his light jacket unbuttoned. He's holding a bag of food he bought on the way, knowing Yoongi hasn't eaten again.

Jimin closes the door, carefully sets the bag down, and comes closer. He sits down opposite Yoongi, looking into his empty eyes.

"Yoongi, why?" the voice is quiet.

"Why did you come?" Yoongi's voice is hoarse and raspy. "I don't need a nanny."

Yoongi clenches his jaw. He turns away, trying to hide the trembling in his hands, but Jimin sees everything. Every damn little thing, the way he bites his lips until they bleed.

Jimin sits down next to him on the cold floor, shoulder to shoulder. He covers his hand with his own—warm, alive.

Yoongi is silent for a long time. And then his head falls heavily onto Jimin's shoulder, as if he's carrying the whole world on his shoulders.