Thanatophobia | M.yg

;002

yoongi enters through the front door of his home, being engulfed in the odd quietude of the surrounding atmosphere. he peers down at his watch. usually his mom would be passed out in front of the tv by this time or in the kitchen eating something microwaveable. he thinks that that might be the case until he flinches when a plate is thrown, barely missing yoongi. his hands come up to shield his head, upper body ducking into his arms. the plate erupts into a loud crash and shatters into a million pieces as it crumples down to the unswept floor.

unable to have time to process what was thrown he whips his head into the direction from where it came from, well aware of who was the cause of the mess, lowering his gaze to the broken plate then over at his mother. a glass of wine in one hand and a lit cigarette pirched in between her two middle aged fingers. mascara running down her reddened face as she glares at her son in anger.

"it's about time you came home!" she yells through gritted teeth, almost sounding worried for her sons safety—turning around to grab another plate and chuck it at the slightly confused younger boy. fortunately, yoongi was quick enough to dodge the flying plate most likely to leave him with pain and a bloody face if he hadn't moved in time.

not even sparing the disheveled woman a glance he dashes for the stairs, hoping to make it to his room without any broken plate pieces stuck anywhere in his body.

"where's that girlfriend of yours i always hear you talking about, huh?"

yoongi abruptly stops, one foot placed up on the first step as he stands frozen upon hearing his mothers slurred and dripping with alcohol words.

"i bet she's not even real—"

she makes a mockery of her son, claiming that his girlfriend was only a figment of his imagination. any girl who went out with him was only doing it out of pity. the mother laughs hysterically at her belittling, slamming another plate into the first steps. a crack in the wood gone unnoticed by the heckling woman.

anger and guilt rise into yoongi. he wants to say something, to prove his mother wrong. then his thoughts fall onto the goddess on the bench. less wouldn't want him to retaliate back even if he so badly wants to. it takes all his will power to ignore his mother, trying to simmer his emotions as he keeps his mind filled with fractions of less. he doesn't react to the banter despite her fradualent attempts to push her son over the edge. he turns on his heels and trudges up the stairs toward his bedroom where he found most peace in, considering a ballistic woman downstairs drowning out her own problems.

he opens the door, quietly closing it behind him and locking it in case his mother comes up the stairs to continue harassing him. he takes a deep breath once it's quieter, shouldering his coat off and throwing the piece of clothing onto his made bed next to the window iced over from the cold. he walks over to his desk and places down the notebook he still had in his hands.

yoongi pulls back the rolling chair and sits down, flicking on the small lamp on his study. the yellow light illuminates the journal on his desk, pink fingers running along the front cover then on the letters written in marker.

less and yoogi's journal

he smiles and places his head in his palm as the memory of less writing those words on the notebook last spring pop into his mind, small lilac sparks flowing into every curve she made with the pen held in her petite hand. the gorgeous smile she wore as she said their names  aloud. giggling cutely afterward and turning toward the younger who sat quietly and watched on in awe.

despite the notebook having his name, less told him to never open it. but like any other human, curiosity leads to temptations and there were times where he was eager to open to the first page to see what she had be writing on the blank sheets.