Temptation [ Min Yoongi | ENG ]

T E N

"Your hair looks beautiful in this color." I turned around and saw Yoongi standing at the door of the house, his silhouette clearly highlighted by the internal light, but his face dark by the moonless night.

I turned my back on him without answering him. I knew I didn't need to say anything to keep him there.

"Why didn't you reply to my message?" He came and sat next to me, on the same chaise lounger that I had dozed off days before.

"Where were you?" I answered him with another question.

"Den Bosch. I went to DJ at a Christmas party in Eindhoven and stayed with my parents for a while" he shared it so easily. "Why didn't you reply to my message?"

"I had no answer," I said, being sincere in my words.

"It is impolite not to answer the others, you know?"

"Um, um..." I felt his stare on me, but I didn't feel like meeting his eyes.

"I wanted to talk to you to tell you a story." He insisted.

"Which is?" I asked without interest and he sighed.

"Mine... I mean, my history with mental illness."

His answer took me by surprise, which made me lower my gaze to the floor and made me want not to look at him at all.

"Why?"

"Because this is something we have in common and from my experience, I found that sharing this type of experience can help make things easier." The sincerity in his voice bothered me, mainly because I knew I couldn't escape that conversation.

I looked at him meeting his eyes for the first time and noticing that his hair was also colored, but in a lively mint tone that contrasted with his fair skin and made he look good.

"Do you want to tell it to me now?" My question was an invitation, but I still sighed when I finished speaking.

"I'll give you the short version and if you ever want the whole story, I'll give you the details," he replied, lighting his own cigarette. With my silence he continued. "Around the age of 18 I started to experience the symptoms of anxiety and depression... I did nothing about it and obviously the situation didn't improve. After a while, I had severe crises and my parents took me to the huisarts who referred me to the psychiatrist. The diagnosis was obsessive-compulsive disorder, depression and social phobia."

The silence between us became heavy.

"I didn't know ..."

"There's a lot about me that you don't know, but if you ever want to talk about it or anything, you have my number."

He threw his cigarette butt on the floor, stubbed it out with his shoe and picked it up before getting up and going back into the house, leaving me alone again to digest this information I just received.

I followed him with my eyes and saw him approach Lotte and Dirk who were sitting and curled up on a sofa in the living room.

I had no idea that he had ever been through something like this and that, even today, he probably still deals with very similar things that I'm dealing with.