vision { yoonmin }

thirteen

Even though Yoongi contacted the website, demanding they take the cruel article down (to which they did after a couple of threats from Hoseok and his management), the damage was irreversible. Jimin didn't get out of bed for days. Yoongi tried everything. He begged he pleaded, and he cried for Jimin to at least get up to have some food and water. Yet, Jimin refused with a trembling nod every single time.

Yoongi's footsteps left a scattered pattern of wet footprints across the pavement as his legs crossed and buckled in an attempt to walk. His bleached hair billowed in the breeze, though the soothing post-midnight wind did nothing to sober him up.

A bottle of soju hung dangerously by its neck from the tip of Yoongi's fingertips. How many had he drunk before? He couldn't remember and frankly, didn't care.

"H-hey." Yoongi stopped his stumbling stroll in front of the apartment complex that he and Jimin called home. The landlady's cat sat on its backside, paws pressed firmly against the yellowed tiles. "What are you looking at?"

The cat gazed up at Yoongi. Yoongi stared intensely into his dark wet eyes, and the cat stared straight back. Its fur was comprised of ginger, white and a dark shade that Yoongi couldn't see in his drunken gaze. It's black coffee coloured eyes were almost unrealistically large, as if this cat was some animated hallucination or something of the sort.

Yoongi stared at the calico cat, though it was unfazed by Yoongi's intense stare. "You're fucking creepy."

The cat kept its gaze firmly on Yoongi's pink flushed face.

"Fine, whatever. I didn't want to talk to you anyway." Yoongi pushed past the feline and walked through the apartment complex doors. "Stupid fucking cat."

It was a wonder- no, a miracle, that Yoongi didn't fall down the slippery concrete staircase on the way up to his apartment. His legs were shaking and when they weren't, they were slipping out of control. The staircase swayed and jolted under his boots, stomach bile bubbled dangerously at the back of his throat. Finally, after what seemed like a mountain and not a staircase, Yoongi opened the door to his home and walked through.

Yoongi didn't want to see Jimin. He couldn't. Not when he was like this. Not when Jimin was still like that. Jimin's depression had started to take a toll on him, and he was struggling to hold on. Jimin

So he just lay on the couch, and eventually, fell into a drunken slumber.

♕

Yoongi awoke, a deep thudding bass pounded between his ears. He muttered a few curse words as he pulled himself from his comfortable position wedged between two couch pillows. Yoongi was still wearing his attire from the night out, his denim jacket reeked like soju more than ever and the horrid stench didn't help with his headache. 

He sat up and scratched the back of his neck with a yawn. Yoongi's eyes instinctively glanced towards his shared bedroom with Jimin, the door firmly shut as usual. What a surprise. 

Half a dozen bottles of soju sat next to the kitchen sink, Yoongi felt their mocking stare bore into his heart. The sat there, tantalising and teasing him. Their green-tinted glass and glistening liquid held in the emerald glass with that addictive taste and intoxicating qualities. Yoongi loved how it felt, to be drunk. He loved the calm feeling that washed through his chest as he went through bottle after bottle of alcohol. He revelled in the feeling of completely losing control of his mind and his body. The way his legs buckled from underneath him, the string of profanities and abusive comments that spilt from the lips that the drink had just kissed. passed through. The drinking made him forget about his troubles, Jimin's depression and work stresses left his body as that giggly feeling entered. Those glistening bottles were tempting him to have another sip, another bottle. The tips of his fingers tingled as he pondered the thought. His head throbbed from last nights drinking but his tongue was parched and begging for another drop. 

Yoongi scuffed against the kitchen tile towards the bottles, grabbing the closest one and unscrewing the lid. He hissed in pain and pulled his hand away from the neck of the bottle, an angry cut glared at him.

 When did this happen?

Whatever.

He switched to using his left hand and popped off the lid. Before he went to press his lips against the opening, he felt something that he hadn't felt in so long. A pair of arms reached from behind and held him. Yoongi didn't even need to look down to his chest to see the hands of who was embracing him, he knew that gentle musky vanilla smell so well. 

He put down the soju and sighed. Something came over him, he grabbed each soju bottle and poured the foul liquid down the sink until every last drop was gone.

After that, Jimin continued to get out of bed and Yoongi never drank like that again. It took him a while and the process was painful and hard, for the both of them. But with therapy and support from Yoongi and his friends, Jimin gradually got better. Sure, things were still bad. Jimin still refused to leave their apartment but, it was a start. And maybe, just maybe, things were going to get better.