Masks || Yoongi X BTS

Just a little longer

Four days.

It had been four days.

The hopeless abandon of which yoongi had been consumed by had kept him from his home, from eating and from sleeping for four days. He could feel his bones protruding from his body, the fuzzy feeling swarming through his head, the voice screaming at him, in its mad singsong voice, over and over again,

This is your fault.

Everything bad that has happened is because of you.

They are better off without you.

The agonisingly long 96 hours had been spent entirely on obsessively criticising and analysing the last week, nitpicking all of his mistakes and wishing desperately that he could take it back. Minutes were hours, hours were days, but the odd part was that days seemed to be seconds. They were wasted, just like that, a blink of an eye, gone in moments.

Four seconds that's what it felt like. Four of the emptiest seconds of his life.

It was 2 AM of the next day when Yoongi finally snapped. He couldn't take the ear-splitting silence any longer. He didn't care what filled his ears, be it white noise, his own whimpers or screams, anything. He desperately needed something. Anything.

Anyone.

That was when he decided how he was going to solve his problem. More like, problems. Sluggishly crawling over to the bag which lay on the ground, Yoongi unzipped his 'secret pocket' and held out his darkest and most hated addiction. He then threw the bag - packed full of random things - Carelessly across the small room, the content spilling across the carpeted floor.

Shakily, he drew out a pack of razor blades, peeled away the plastic cover and pulled out a fresh, delicious looking sharp blade.

He ran the sharp blade on his skin to test it's worth. Soon, crimson lines littered his wrist, the thick liquid oozing out reminded him of a painting. A hideous yet eye-catching painting. He smiled madly at the sight, slipping into his own little world in an instant. "Pretty!" He drawled out and decided to 'draw' some more designs.

"Ouchie. Me wan' Jinnie!" Yoongi wailed to himselt as he slipped further and further into the other dimension. He wasn't sane or in his right mind in the slightest, and at that moment, one could have mistaken him for a mental patient. Things were that dire, and he desperately needed help.

As if on cue, a knock was heard from behind the door. "Yoongi" Jin shouted after the few short and impatient knocks. "Please come out! It's been four days already, and we've all been worried sick!" His muffled voice resonated again throughout the small room.

"Jinnie! 'urts!"

Banging and more shuffling from outside followed Yoongi's child-like comment. Again, his elder's worried voice was heard. It was tender and sounded genuinely worried. "Yoongi?! Please, I need you to open the door for me. Okay? Can you do that for me?".

While sobbing from the pain, the younger boy reached for the blood-covered razor and made more cuts, which were deep and sloppy. "Yoongi!" Jin cried out from outside, causing Yoongi to abruptly snap back to reality and scurry around to find something long sleeved to wear, his arm throbbing and burning with every frantic step he took. He needed to somehow cover up the mess he had made, that was now slick with blood.

"Y-yoongi?" Jin asked shakily.

"I'm fine, Jin-Hyung," Yoongi replied nonchalantly. "Just... leave me be." And with that, Yoongi walked past him and the others just as they arrived, slowly making his way back home.

Did he even have a home?

He had no worries, no thoughts, no more dreams, which filled his head anymore. No more regrets. No more strength to live. But at the very least, no one will know what he did to himself while being locked up inside the studio.

Little did he know, that Jin saw the blood seeping into his cardigan and dripping onto the floor. He saw it all, but...