Sober | myg.

3 : Regret

It was a long hour of downing the full bottle of wine, and already they were on the second bottle.
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"You'd be damned if I'm letting you go home tonight," Brooke giggled, giddily refilling her cup. Yoongi watched her with a subtle smile, one that was barely there, like a fine vapour. His arm rested on the back of the patchy couch, waiting for the girl to get through.
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She handed back the bottle and sipped. As he took a swig, Brooke picked up her phone that buzzed on the small table sat in front of them. "Ah hell, Kelse." She typed a quick response, her thumbs moving at a pace that made the man beside her scrunch his nose.
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"Who's Kelse?" Yoongi asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.
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She sighed, putting her phone on silent and tossing it back in it's place. "Lil' bro. He's the only one who bothers to check up on me daily." She snorted, running a hand through her dark hair. "You'd think it annoy me but you'd be surprised how good it can make you feel that someone is still calling to check up on you, you know?"
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Yoongi listened to Brooke, but her final statement made him only faze out. His gaze stared into a nonexistent abyss, reminding himself that no one could give him just a mere text message. However, it wasn't there fault. No, not at all.
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He sat his elbows on his knees again before bringing his clasped hands to his lips. "No, I don't know."
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Brooke couldn't here is quiet mumble. "Hm?"
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He sat up straight. "I said, where's the bathroom."
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She brought her legs under her. "See that hallway? Second door on the right. The plunger is by the tub if you need it."
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Yoongi heaved himself up, setting the half empty bottle on the floor before making his way to the said directions. His movements were lazy, almost to a stumble. He was only feeling the tiniest of buzz, not bothered since he knew he was anything but a lightweight.
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When he got inside, upon flickering the flight he immediately caught the sight of his reflection in the dusty mirror.
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Puffy eyes, greased hair.
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Lips stained pink from dark wine.
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Yoongi brought his slim fingers to his mouth to trace over it with the tips of his fingers. The other hand laid flushed with the rim of the sink.
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He looked disgusting.
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"Damn," he grunted, swinging on the faucet and placing his hand under to check the temperature. He took a moment to splash his face with the cold water, the refreshing feeling lasting only for a second.
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There was no towel near by which resulted in using the cheap toilet paper that only clung to his face.
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"Dammit, Brooke," he sighed, finally just bringing the collar of his shirt to finish blotting it dry.
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His appearance only changed by his cheeks becoming even more red.
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His lips stayed stained.
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With a defeated exhale, he sat on the edge of the tub after pulling a crinkled, folded photo out of his back pocket. There was many scratches on the surface, but it was still held the same meaning.
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Yoongi regretted pulling out the picture, guilt now laying even heavier on his sick, beaten down heart. An alarming pain settled in his chest.
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Realizing it was a bad idea, he folded the photo back up in confidence, determining not to let the moment get him emotional. He contemplated on flushing the thing down the toilet, but he knew that too, he would regret it.
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He ran a hand over his face before staring at the ground, which could use a mopping.
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"Ah, I'm sorry, Namjoon-ah."
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He could only imagine the younger breaking his calm demeanor if he saw the state of where Yoongi was at in his life. He wasn't sure if Namjoon would break down and cry or release the wrath that he had kept back for so many years.
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A lump formed in Yoongi's throat that was way too difficult to swallow.
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Man up, he could hear his friend say in the fogginess of his mind. The words sent a chill over his body. He hasn't 'manned up' in over a year.
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No, he was anything but tough. The disappointing feeling settled in the air and right now all he could think about doing was-
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T h u m p, t h u m p.
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"Yoongi-ah! You've been in there for too long! Are you sick?"
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Yoongi jumped at hearing her speak. He came over and opened the door, seeing that she now had tied her hair into a high ponytail. "You had me almost worried, and that never happens-"
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He brushed by her, walking swiftly back to the bottle of wine he left on the ground before snatching it up.
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"Dang, you can't go ten minutes without a drink?"
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Brooke's voice was only background noise as he made his way to the door leading outside to the incredibly tiny, rickety balcony.
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"Hey, what's going on?" Her voice got higher but he couldn't comprehend what was coming out of her mouth.
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With absolutely no hesitation, he chucked the bottle over the railing, watching the bottle shatter into pieces on the sidewalk two floors below.