Familiar. Call. Panic.
As the days increased slowly, the awkward gap between the two teenage boys was steadily deteriorating. Jimin would practically follow Yoongi everywhere, using every last moment with the blonde boy to better suit his advantage of trying to get closer to him.
Soon, they were eating lunch together, walking to lockers together, even doing assignments together.
Yet, nothing seemed to work. The number, it was unattainable. Jimin started to get frustrated, he was growing impatient. He was used to getting exactly what he wanted, and all he wanted for the past few weeks was a way to be closer to the blonde boy, the beautiful blonde boy with milky skin and that powerful gaze.
Jimin just didn't get it himself either.
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He walked home alone.
It was normal for Min Yoongi, nobody knew what his house looked like. Not even Hoseok or Namjoon. And he wanted to keep it that way. With only a thin jacket and a loose beanie as protection, the harsh wind made his ears go pink. He shoved his hands down his pockets, shivering at the cold air. The roads were grey as was the sky. As he thought of the colours of his surroundings, his thoughts started to slowly consume him. His whole life was an endless spiral of grey, wasn't it? No rights, no wrongs. Just expectations, just disappointments. His family was functioning, but barely. Just like his body. Still healthy, but broken inside.
As one thought lead him to another, he didn't notice the approaching of a group of young men in front of him. He walked and walked until his forehead hit the hard chest of one of them. The shorter boy stumbled backward before realizing who it was and then falling to the ground. A smirk was perched on his lips.
"We've missed you so much. Its been what, almost two weeks since we last made contact?"
Yoongi's lips trembled. He wasn't in school, the boys were not wearing their varsity jackets. There was nothing holding them back today. No school rules, no crowds, no teachers, they could do anything they wanted to. His eyes shifted from one face to another, all staring at him with hungry eyes.
Yoongi started to get up and prepared himself to run, they're going to kill me.
»»»
Jimin was lying down on his bed, staring at the intricate detailing on the walls of his room. He had always wanted plainer walls, but his mother wanted extravagance, and his father wanted image. He sighed as he turned to his side and looking at himself from the large mirror that spread throughout his room. He sat up abruptly and reached for the drawer of his bedside table. As the ochre drawer glided open, his hands swiftly moved down to take a small tiny glass casing of white rolled up tubes. His fingers glided across the case, his most prized possession.
Jimin gracefully took out one of the cigarettes of cannabis and flicked his zippo lighter open, the small flame already beginning to burn the end of it. He brought it to his mouth and inhaled deeply. His free hand came up to rub his eyes, the weariness already starting to lift off like hot air balloons. His chest felt warm, and his state of mind was changing. He was happy again.
Jimin smiled to nobody in particular and took another inhale of the pot, his body starting to sway lightly like a palm tree off the shore of a Californian beach. Living in the numbness of a rich man's life constantly haunted Jimin late at night. Would he ever feel happy or even sad? His parents couldn't help him, they had their own shit to figure out. His mother was obsessed with looking good for people and drank all her sorrows away when nobody was looking. And his father always had more than a few bodies to hold a day. Thinking about it made Jimin gag. He swore to never do drugs, but weed, it was different. It brought him to different places even when he was still trapped in his large and empty room.
He giggled and smoked his joint until he couldn't hold it anymore. He threw away the leftovers, moving to the mirror to watch his bloodshot eyes. He didn't look much different from his morning appearance, his eyes the same from bad dreams. As he got up to wash his face, his phone started ringing. He groaned and picked it up and looked at the caller ID that read 'Unknown'. He cocked his head at it, wondering who it could be.
"If only it could be Yoongi," he smiled sadly before pressing the answer button, remembering when he gave his own number to him in hopes of Yoongi texting him.
Before Jimin could say hello, a loud huffing noise was projecting through the speaker. In the background shouts of familiar voices could be heard. Jimin's brain was still pulling a blank, he couldn't process much. He was slowly falling deeper into his trance when a half-frantic voice pulled him back. Fear crept into him.
"Park Jimin, please help me, they found me and I can't run for long," the voice was soft and suffocating.
Jimin spoke, almost yelling through the phone, "Tell me where you are."
»»»
Just as Yoongi had inferred, the boys caught him, grabbing him harshly at his arms. His body thrashed and he kicked so hard that it actually hit Chase, the head of the lion, in the chest. A silence overtook the group for a second, all of them pausing to realize how bad of a move Yoongi had just made. A hard fist came slamming against Yoongi's cheek, and he felt his gums already starting to bleed. His body had a pretty long time to heal up this time but it didn't hurt any less. It really, really hurt.
His body was convulsing and the boys began to kick him in his shins and knee him in his ribs. He was slowly losing consciousness. He thought of his 'friends', Namjoon and Hoseok and how they didn't even bother to pick his calls up. And then he thought of Jimin. Ha, like he's actually gonna show up, I've never meant anything to him anyway.
As his eyes were starting to close, a distant voice tore through the white noise in his mind, dragging him back to his consciousness. He heard some words like police, reported, hell, and expelled before being dropped to the hard concrete floor. He watched as the group of guys that were about to end his life just a minute ago were running away, all of them splitting ways.
A body floated into Yoongi's view and its face was smiling. Strong hands gently lifted him up into a sitting position. He wanted to look away, wanted to run, but his legs felt like they were broken, unable to move. His eyes watered up and he laughed lightly, "You actually came. Not bad."
"Shut up," Jimin said back, no longer smiling. He observed the bleeding boy, his hair a mess, bruises were beginning to frame every corner of his frail body. Being in the state that he was in, Jimin knew he had to take him to the hospital. But Jimin was high, and he really wanted to kiss Yoongi.
So that was exactly what he did. His lips crashed harshly into the blonde's the way a wrecking ball would crash into a building signed for demolition. Yoongi felt a sensation like no other before fading off into unconsciousness, a kiss that tasted like the metal flavour he hated being the only thing that remained in the confines of his mind, making everything else feel like a distant dream.
A/n: nobody reads this but idc I love writing this story
