Not So Fine | Yoonmin

Chapter 23

Yoongi POV

Sitting on the couch in my living room, all I can find it in me to do is stare at the pill bottles and multitude of papers that I got at the doctors, trying hard not to be disappointed in the fact that my apartment had been completely empty when I returned home. I spent far more time in that damned building than I've ever cared to since my mother passed, and it had been hard enough and terrifying enough to have gone and done it all alone. I had thought when Jimin insisted I go and get checked out and talk to the doctors about getting started on chemo that he would come with me, that we'd go together so that I didn't have to do something like this alone. It was half the reason I was willing to bother with making the damned appointment, thinking I'd have support with me, thinking that he was actually going to stay.

He didn't seem to have any interest in attending with me when I'd asked him about it this morning, and sitting here in my living room, in my apartment, all alone... I guess I understand now why that was. It doesn't really make shit for sense to me as to why he was so fucking insistent that I go through this hell if all it was for was to give him the opportunity to leave me again, but then again... who would want to admit to someone with my condition that they can't stay like they thought they could? I guess, at least with him leaving like this, I didn't have to have it told straight to my face. Not that he did that the first time either...

My eyes fall shut lightly at the thought, head hanging as I shake my head at myself for having been so dumb. For having been so stupid and oblivious and naive. For having gotten my hopes up.

"Goddamn him." I mutter as I lean back against the furniture, eyes opening to stare at the cursed pill bottles sitting on the coffee table in front of me. Jimin had gone through a few days ago to clean my apartment of any and all alcohol possible, not having wanted to leave temptation lying around for me. It means that if I want a fucking drink at this point that I'll have to go out, whether to my studio or the store, something that I'm no longer in any mental state for. I know I don't have much left in my studio, having been close to needing to run out for that alone before Jimin convinced me to give us another shot, meaning that if I want to meaningfully return to drinking my sorrows away, that I really will have to head to a store within the next day or two.

I just shake my head lightly at the thought once more, wondering if maybe I should just allow myself to waste away to nothing right here in my apartment rather than bothering to humiliate myself even further by going out in public for something as little as booze at this point.

My head lulls to the side at the sound of my front door opening, not really knowing who'd be wandering their way so carefully and casually at this point. My door would typically be locked, but it wasn't when I returned to the empty space, and I didn't really bother with locking up after me either. Namjoon doesn't have a spare key either, nor had the door even been tried to see if it were locked or not, but I struggle finding it in me to care at this point.

My brows furrow when I spy Jimin to be the one making his way back in, watching as his eyes widen when they land on my form. What originally felt like optimism radiating from the younger turns to what I can easily see is mixed emotions, but I don't bother trying to decipher any of it. I'm exhausted to say the least, and I really don't want to have to fight this battle all over again.

"You don't have to hang around, Jimin. I know I'm not what I was when we were together before. You don't have to say anything or keep pretending. I understand." I breathe out, the pain in my chest weighing me down like it had when I had first realized he wasn't coming back. I shift my head back to a more neutral position when I finish speaking, staring tiredly up at the ceiling.

I hear him sigh, and my eyes fall shut lightly at the sound, feeling the sting of what I know should be tears in my eyes. They aren't coming this time though, and I begin to wonder if I've finally run dry of tears, exhausted all of the tears after all these months of suffering. After months of seemingly doing nothing but crying and drinking.

I soon hear his soft footsteps moving him, but with a sudden heading coming on from accepting that this is really what we're coming to once more, I can hardly hear them. I hardly even hear him sit down on the cushion next to me, head quickly beginning to spin and pound all at once after everything I've been through today alone.

"Oh, hyung..."