Yoongi is a good husband

— bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

Night. A strange gaze appears in the bathroom mirror. Jimin looks at his reflection, but his smile is different. Angular, crooked.

“You again,” Yoongi stands in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the frame. “Turn off the light, Jimin-ah. Come here.”

“I’m not him,” Jimin’s voice was hoarse. “He’s sleeping. I want to go out.”

"I know," Yoongi takes a step, then another. His palms whisper warmth as he hugs his husband from behind, his lips touching the back of his neck. "But I won't let you."

In the mirror, Jimin's pupils dilate and contract. Two people in one body are fighting. Yoongi feels his shoulders tense under his hands, his fingers twitch as they grip the sink.

Yoongi isn't afraid. He remembers the first time he saw it—how Jimin instantly ceased to be himself. Back then, Yoongi was afraid he was losing him. Now he knows: he's not losing him; he's learning to hold two people in one embrace.

The bedroom is bathed in the blue of the night light. Yoongi lays Jimin down on the bed, covers him with a blanket, sits down next to him, and strokes his hair. Because for Yoongi, Jimin's duality isn't a disease. It's simply two ways of loving him. And he accepts both.

"I'm here," Yoongi presses closer. "You're mine. You both are mine."