Stained Starbursts • yoonmin

1 | 봄

STAINED STARBURSTS

봄 // SPRING

Where Min Yoongi lays, is the place of his rebirth, and soon enough, it will be the place where he self-destructs into ashes.

+ + + + + + +

Yoongi hates spring. He hates breathing in the sickly smell of dahlias, morning dew and most of all; it revolts him that spring reminds him of someone.

Someone unthinkable. Buried deep within the cracks of his mind. That someone- at all costs- must be forgotten, but everyday, Yoongi would wake up and have his name lingering between his lips, a few breaths away from materializing into words.

Three syllables for his whole name.

As fast as it comes, the faster it goes.

He suddenly can't remember the name anymore.

He smiled, knowing that slowly, he's starting to forget whatever he was medicated for.

But to his dismay, spring doesn't cease to exist. It's almost as if it's dragging purposefully way too long just to torture him. Just to remind him that somehow, things just don't turn out the way he wanted it to be.

It never does.

Today, he woke up, his alarm blaring noisily, rousing his blank mind into another grueling day.

He tasked himself with breakfast, even a quick shower to do what a normal person does during the morning.

Except for the fact that Yoongi is different, and that is the truth.

He lined up four pills, ranging from red, yellow, blue and black. He drank them one after the other, filling his stomach with more chemicals, while flooding his mind with numbness.

And that's how he lives, and how he will live for more years to come.

Unless of course something terrible happens.

+ + + + + +

He goes to the university, more often than not. He attends classes here and there, barely passing all of his units just to pass for the next term.

But little is better than none, isn't it?

"Hello," a voice behind him greets, it sounded warm, cheery and everything Yoongi isn't.

Yoongi hates it.

He whipped his face to see where the voice came from. It came from a boy, with bright red hair and squinty eyes.

The boy is smiling. Plastered in his face is a large, cheery smile that explodes into thousands of colors- all at once.

One thought remains repeating in Yoongi's head.

He reminds him of someone.

He stared. He stared and stared until his eyes hurt, because looking at something so bright is so wonderful and torturing at the same time. But this? This doesn't hurt at all.

It feels wonderful.

Way too wonderful.

The boy with the bright red hair waved in front of Yoongi's eyes, causing him to break his focus onto the boy's face.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" The boy asked, one hand cradling a beaten up black notebook, the other, holding a pen.

Yoongi shook his head. But yes he minds letting him sit beside himself. Something's way too familiar with the boy's face, the boy's mannerisms, the boy's eyes-- and it feels like as if his heart is caught in his throat and his head is spinning faster than ever and then- his mind goes blank.