Mental

33

Yoongi had locked himself in his room, fiddling around with the syringe in his long and bony fingers.

It nearly slipped out.

"Fuck--" He muttered quietly to himself, repositioning the needle up against his arm.

He needed this.

He needed relief from the worry clouding up his thoughts.

His finger pressed the plunger, the smooth flow of herion entering his bloodstream.

Yoongi let out a content sigh, removing the needle from his skin.

He packed his syringe away, along with the small bottle of herion into a fairly tiny sized bag.

Standing up, he went into his bathroom and shoved the bag into the back of one specific cabinet. He made sure it was hidden. Nearly impossible to notice.

"What a fucking life saver.." He whispered, closing the cabinet and then heading over to his closet.

He was getting a bit warm, so he decided to change his shirt.

What to wear, what to wear.

Fuck it, he chose a white shirt.

Not like he despised the color white or anything, but the rest of his black shirts were needing to be washed.

Inhaling some, Yoongi then went over to his bed and plopped down on it, positioning himself onto the right side.

His head leaning back into his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

He just waited patiently for the heroin to start taking over, not really having anything good on his mind.

The drug he took would help with that.

He was still worrying about how he'd get his wall fixed, and how he'd come up with enough money.

'Don't know what the fuck is wrong with Jungkook. I'm still pissed off. And he expects me to be all soft towards him and shit after that? What a lunatic.' Yoongi scoffed in his mind, rolling his eyes along with his thoughts.

Yoongi just layed there, having his arms crossed as he ranted even more negative thoughts to himself.

However, after a while he started noticing how silent everything was.

The rain must have stopped.

The heat wasn't on, because the vents were dormant.

The only noise he heard was his inhales and exhales.

It reminded him of how things used to be.

How he'd come home after school and every night he'd be alone in his bedroom, just staring at nothing and listening for noises that would never be present.

It felt...too peculiar now.

Besides, he had spent the last few nights with Jungkook in his room. This time, that wasn't the case.

But he didn't want to think about Jungkook right now because he was hot-headed.

Yoongi turned his head to the left, staring at the empty space on the other half of his bed.

He felt his hand reach out and gently stroke the white plush pillow that was not occupied by another head.

A drug didn't fill an empty space in his heart.

Only Jungkook could do that.

But he was still not happy with the younger.

Though, deep down he had to admit it was abnormal to not have Jungkook laying beside him.

Yoongi sat up, pushing his legs off the side of the bed as he went to one of the coat hangers on his wall, seeing one of Jungkook's plaid shirts hanging from it.

Yoongi stared at it for a few seconds.

Yoongi slipped on Jungkook's shirt, the sleeves covering his arms like a warm hug he'd get from the younger boy. It had his scent too, which added onto the effect that Jungkook was there with him, even if he was just downstairs.

He got back onto his bed and took the pillow Jungkook would usually lay on, holding it close to his body.

"This'll do..." The words slurred from his lips as the heroin began knocking him out. Yoongi unawarringly pressed a small kiss to the pillow he was holding, then going to sleep into an unconscious state like always.

A/N: did anyone get my reffrence here! :D