Love only an author can tell

Five

So sorry for the lack of updates but good news is I'm pumped and ready to write! There will only be a few more chapters of this short story, ready to tackle the next book :3 enjoy and please leave a comment!

Some time passed after Jimins party, and much to Yoongi's relief he'd finally finished his latest project. The only problem was he had too much time on his hands, it seemed like his thoughts drifted back to the dark recesses of his mind more and more frequently. He'd put the past behind him, built up walls to guard his heart, so why did it all resurface? Namjoon was never around anymore since he and Jin had started dating. He couldn't even go to Jimin when he felt his strength crumbling, he was always out with Jungkook and Taehyung. Yoongi hadn't felt so alone in years. He couldn't bring himself to talk to Hoseok ever since the events which occurred at Jimin's dinner party. He didn't want to burden the dancer, couldn't bear the idea of hurting Hoseok because of his own inability to open up. So, he stayed home, writing random thoughts down and watching as his few close friends continued on with their happy lives. He'd never been quiet alone, Jimin had always been there in a flash as if he had a sixth sense for Yoongi's anxiety, but now that was muddled by his two boyfriends. Everyone had someone, except Yoongi. The reality that he was just too broken for any sort of relationship hit him in the face like an icy northern wind, he was alone, damaged goods, too much trouble for what he was worth. He distanced himself from humanity, slowly slumping back into his old ways of alcohol and dark thoughts.

It carried on for months.

Finally after nearly three months of the silent torture, Yoongi cracked.

His thoughts had drifted back to his parents death, that night still etched painfully into his memory for eternity. The smell of smoke.. The slick sidewalk from the evenings rain, the confusion in his ten year old mind when a strange man had emerged from the shadows with a gun pointed at his father. He still remembered the man's voice as he growled "give me your money!" His father had obliged, until the stranger attempted to grab Yoongi's mother. There was a struggle as Yoongi's father fought to protect his wife, with a shout for his son to run. Yoongi remembered two loud gunshots ringing out, and he had backed away in horror as his parents both slumped to the wet pavement. The monstrous man turned to Yoongi in a panic upon hearing sirens in the distance, and fired one final time.

Yoongi placed a pale hand over his heart, remembering exactly where the bullet had hit him as a child, the scar was a constant reminder that he should have died with his parents. It was always there, a grim reminder burning his flesh. Suddenly it all became too much. His heart raced uncontrollably, panic seizing his mind and adrenaline gripped him. In a rush of fear, he stumbled over to the desk, grasping his phone and dialing Jimins number. His eyes brimmed with tears when the line continued to ring with no answer for several agonizing seconds. Finally Jimins voice spoke, and Yoongi felt an ounce of relief seep into his being until he realized it was only the answering machine. Jimin hadn't answered.

In all the years they'd been best friends, not once had Jimin ignored a call. This realization only made his panic attack spiral and he rushed to the medicine cabinet with trembling hands for his medication, only to discover the bottle was empty. Namjoon was supposed to get it filled three days ago. Yoongi assumed it was because his roommate had been too preoccupied with Jin these days. He felt a sudden guilty weight crushing his shoulders, he was a grown man, and he couldn't even get his medication filled for himself because he couldn't leave the house. He tossed the bottle aside angrily, slumping against the cabinets and sliding down to hug his knees to his chest. He finally let the tears out that he'd been holding in for months, clutching his phone to his chest. He hated crying more than anything, but with the darkness creeping in and clouding his mind, he cried out of helplessness. He glanced to the left, a large knife on the kitchen counter glinting in the moonlight streaming in through one of the apartments windows. He reached upwards towards it slowly, maybe it was time to finally end it all. No more pain, no more heartache, just oblivion.