phone calls ↭ m.yg × p.jm ↭ discontinued

seventeen.

to the translators: SORRY IF THIS CHAPTER IS LONG! feel free to cut it into parts, or take your time :) btw, jimin's 21 in this, while yoongi's 24. yay.

warning: mentioned self-harm injuries and such

"yoongi," the said male's girlfriend whines as she snuggles against his arm. getting no response, she gets comfortable once more, calling out his name.

but not a single word came out of yoongi, the only sound in the room being the constant tapping on his phone. frowning, his girlfriend snatches the phone away.

"give that back!" yoongi immediately yells, making her expression falter for a second.

she puts down the phone to the side, before turning to him with a glare. "what is going on?" she says, exasperatedly. "it's like your girlfriend doesn't even exist anymore," she says lowly, watching as yoongi flinches. "god, why are you so obsessed with this jimin guy!"

yoongi narrows his eyes at her. "what?"

"what do you mean, what." she laughs, "all you've been doing for the past few weeks... you just keep on calling this dude! you never have time for me and all our date nights just... go completely wrong! you're always so distracted! are you really cheating on me? is that it?!"

"you don't understand," yoongi muttered, "his contact's been deleted for no reason... i'm trying to get it back. he could be hurting himself right now. i need to make sure he's—"

"who cares about him?" she screams.

"i do." yoongi fights back, "i'm his friend, i have to know if he's okay." he looks at his phone worriedly. "you just... you don't understand. this is serious, and i—"

she huffs. "maybe it was right of me to delete his contact."

yoongi looks up at her.

he snaps.

immediately grabbing a hold of her arm, he pins her against the couch, receiving a whine of pain. gritting his teeth, yoongi spoke with anger clear in his tone of voice, "what did you say to him?" he tightens his hold, glaring at the girl. "what did you do."

"let go, yoongi!" she yells, and yoongi stares at her for a bit longer, before letting her arm go and getting up.

yoongi's breathing quickens. "he's— god." he runs his fingers through his own black hair, staring down at his girlfriend. "you shouldn't have done that." he mumbles.

and this woman— this damn woman— has the nerve to send him a smile. "too late, honey."

yoongi looks at her, face blank. "we're over."

she doesn't even flinch. instead, she laughs, "i guess he's always been more important, huh?"

yoongi doesn't say anything.

rubbing the spot on her arm that yoongi had held onto, she smiles and crosses her legs. "you really like him..."

yoongi picks his phone up. "i don't..." he frowns, "i don't like him that way."