˗ˏˋ 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 ʸᵒᵒⁿᵐⁱⁿ

11 • 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦

11.10.18

"I'm done with being left behind by those who used to love me."

-•§•-

Tomorrow will be a better day, the sun will shine and you'll feel happier. Isn't that what people always say? They think that life is simple, that the things you discover can heal as quick as a wound.

But they just don't know the wounds people can give you; the ones that don't heal, and kept as reminders- scars,  instead.

Yoongi learned that through Taehyung's suffering just then, when mother didn't appreciate the presence and the "fault" in the younger, when she so easily blames the silverette for everything that happens to her, he couldn't help but to feel more frightened, so much more fearful for the boy who needed love but couldn't have it because he's been brought into a rich family.

How unfair was that? It frustrated him but what could he do? There was nothing but discipline and demands in this household, no respect, no love, no trust in each other but the trepidation of fame.

So here he was, sitting in the vast dining room where his parents and himself- except Tae (because life is a bitch and their mum doesn't want professional people to know they adopted a boy from an orphanage), did business and invited guests over for a meeting about the hierarchy and money.

But right now there's only one person being anticipated for.

He brushed away that nerve-wracking thought of talking- no, it was more like full-on confronting this person- about something so sensitive and maybe a bit risky.

Yoongi turned his head to look into his own room where the door was slightly ajar, giving him a good enough view of the post-traumatised silverette sleeping peacefully, sheets raised to his shoulders as Taehyung's skin was awfully pale now.

When the younger finally "fell asleep" in his arms minutes ago after their mum's outrageous actions, Yoongi settled the unconscious younger onto his bed, making sure the boy was alright and giving him a chaste kiss to the forehead before heading out.

Then Yoongi spotted his mother standing by the doorway of their father's room, calm but resentfully angry in a way. He called her in an equally angry tone to meet him at the dining table, when father leaves the house so it'll be just them two, and a sleeping Tae.

Once clanking footsteps came into earshot, he fixed his gaze back to the multiple diamonds lining the clothed, pristine table as his slumping posture seized to sit upright, hands placed neatly in his lap; the way their mum always told them to sit even if they're just resting in their rooms.

"You wanted to talk to me?" A sultry and refined voice spoke up after stepping out of the shadows, heels clinking against marble tiles as a chair adjacent to the rich ravenette drew out to seat a woman in front of him.

After staring at the sparkling diamonds situated on the dining table, suddenly nervous and giddy, he finally got the courage to raise his head and look the woman in the eye.

"Mother. Yes, I need to talk to you." Yoongi stated bluntly, stoic but scared inside.

This was the woman he wished he didn't have to feel so much love towards, but just looking at her face that now held a scowl only reminded him of how bad she'd treated Taehyung.