LITTLE KITTEN. ✔️ [editing]

Prologue

Screaming. Crying. Thrashing.

The harsh sounds ripped through the early morning silence, cutting deep into Yoongi's dreams like jagged shards of glass.

For the fourth time that week, Yoongi was jolted awake by the same, gut-wrenching noises from the apartment next door. His chest tightened with a familiar mixture of irritation and concern as he blinked away the remnants of sleep. The clock blinked 4:00 a.m., its harsh red light glaring back at him. Every night. Always at four.

He groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow, the weight of exhaustion settling heavy in his bones. Why is this happening again? The boy next door—Yoongi hardly knew anything about him. He seemed quiet during the day, almost invisible. Small and timid, he avoided eye contact as if it burned him, his gaze glued to the floor whenever Yoongi crossed his path. Despite how odd the boy seemed, there was something undeniably cute about him, an air of vulnerability that piqued Yoongi's curiosity.

But cute wasn't enough to excuse waking up to blood-curdling screams every night. He couldn't ignore this anymore.

"For fuck's sake," Yoongi muttered, throwing the duvet off with a frustrated huff. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor sending a shiver up his spine as his feet touched down. His apartment was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamp outside, casting long shadows across the floor. As he shuffled toward the door, his head pounded with the weight of sleepless nights. I should've never moved in here, he thought, wincing at the creaking floorboards beneath him.

He hesitated for a moment in front of his neighbor's door. His fist hovered in the air, ready to knock, but a loud crash from inside made him jump. His hand came down harder than he intended, pounding on the metal door. "Hello?!" he shouted, his voice loud enough to echo down the hall.

The screaming continued, louder, more desperate, as though whoever was inside couldn't hear him. His gut twisted. This was more than a rude neighbor making noise—this was panic. Fear.

Yoongi knocked again, louder this time. "Do you even understand that it's four in the morning?!" he yelled, voice sharp with frustration. "Shut the fuck up already!"

But the noise didn't stop. It grew frantic, like someone was losing a battle against their own mind. Yoongi clenched his jaw, hesitating only for a second before reaching for the handle. To his surprise, it turned easily in his hand. The door swung open with a heavy groan, slamming into the wall with a metallic clang.

His breath hitched. The apartment was dark, the air thick and stale, and the screaming continued, muffled by the walls but still loud enough to make Yoongi's heart race. He stepped inside, glancing around. The layout was similar to his own, sparsely furnished with bare walls and empty corners, like the occupant hadn't fully moved in—or hadn't cared to make it a home.

"Hello?" Yoongi called, his voice quieter now, edged with uncertainty. He shut the door behind him with a soft click, the noise barely audible over the chaotic sobs coming from the back of the apartment.

He moved forward slowly, every step deliberate, his bare feet silent on the cold floor. He stopped outside the door to what he assumed was the bedroom, the source of the unrelenting cries. His hand hovered over the doorknob, cold metal under his fingers. What am I doing? This was insane. Walking into a stranger's apartment in the middle of the night? But something told him to go in. The boy clearly wasn't okay, and Yoongi couldn't ignore the gut feeling gnawing at him.

With a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

Inside, the room was startlingly different from the rest of the apartment. The walls were painted a soft sky-blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds, like a child's dreamscape. Toys were scattered across the floor, and the bed—small and covered with bright yellow blankets—looked like it belonged in a kid's room. But there, curled up in the middle of the bed, was the neighbor. He wasn't a child—he was a young man, maybe in his early twenties, his body small and trembling as he thrashed under the covers, caught in some horrific nightmare.

Yoongi's breath caught in his throat. Why is a grown man in a child's room? The thought flashed through his mind, but he pushed it aside, more concerned with the sight in front of him. The boy's face was contorted in pain, tears streaming down his round cheeks as he whimpered and sobbed, still lost in whatever nightmare had a hold on him.

Yoongi stepped closer, kneeling beside the bed. "Hey," he whispered, reaching out carefully. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, shaking him gently. "Wake up - it's okay. You're dreaming."

The boy's eyes snapped open, wide and terrified, as if he couldn't distinguish dream from reality. His chest heaved with labored breaths, his eyes locking onto Yoongi's face in confusion. For a moment, they just stared at each other—the boy trembling, Yoongi frozen in place, unsure what to do next.

Then, without warning, the boy flung himself forward, clinging to Yoongi like a lifeline. His small body shook violently as he buried his face in Yoongi's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Yoongi's arms instinctively wrapped around him, pulling him close, his heart racing.

"Shhh, it's okay," Yoongi murmured, rubbing slow circles on the boy's back. "You're safe. I've got you."

The boy didn't respond, but his sobs slowly began to quiet, his grip on Yoongi tightening as if he feared letting go. Yoongi could feel the warmth of his tears soaking into his shirt, the weight of his trembling body pressed against him. He had no idea what had triggered this, but it didn't matter. All he knew was that he wanted to protect this fragile boy, to make sure nothing ever hurt him again.

Minutes passed, the room falling into a heavy, exhausted silence. The boy's breathing evened out, his sobs reduced to quiet sniffles as he clung to Yoongi like a child holding onto a safety blanket. Yoongi shifted slightly, trying to pull away, but the boy's grip tightened, his fingers fisting Yoongi's shirt.

Yoongi sighed softly. There was no leaving now. He carefully maneuvered them both onto the small bed, lying down beside the boy without breaking the embrace. The boy pressed his face into Yoongi's chest, his breathing soft and steady now, finally at peace.

Yoongi stared up at the ceiling, his arm wrapped protectively around the boy. He didn't know what had just happened, or why this strange, quiet boy next door was screaming in a child's room. But in that moment, with the boy fast asleep in his arms, Yoongi didn't care. All that mattered was that he was here, and the boy was safe.

Sleep crept over him, pulling him under as he held the boy close, the night's chaos slowly fading into a distant memory.