Be mine__A yoonmin fanfiction

1. Min Yoongi

The curtains had been wide open for quite some time now, letting the sharp rays of the sun stream through the open window onto the face of the patient, who lay in the bed covered in a worn out hospital bedsheet, very uncomfortable in his sleep but still unmoving.

His eyes flickered through the night and his fingers trembled.

He was asleep and didn't wake up.

It wasn't good night's sleep.

Finally, after tossing restlessly from side to side in his bed, he woke up and tried opening his eyes.

One of them refused to open, swollen from the huge gash just above hiss left eyebrow which had been heavily taped and bandaged.

He touched the bandage with his hands and checked for blood with his other half opened groggy eye.

He sighed as he found none ........ Only then did he venture a look around the hospital room.

He was surrounded with medical equipment, a lot of it connected to him, a small television in one corner of the room and an empty bed on his left side.

His thoughts wandered to what had brought him there.

It wasn't the first time he was in one of those beds, but this time it seemed a little more serious than the other times.

Landing up unconscious after a series of uncontrollable vomits and brain tremours was a way of life for him.

It was his escape, his refuge.

Being sober hadn't got him anywhere, and being drunk obliterated the possibility.

He had tubes attached to needles, which dipped into his veins and arteries, and pumped liquids from transparent pouches.

He was sure that his parents have no idea about his whereabouts.

He was in no mood to see or talk to them.

Not now, not ever.

The hands of the watch touched....it was twelve, fourteen hours since he had been admitted.

Last night, like many before, had been a night of debauchery, porn, poker, alcohol and smoke.

Six of his friends in his cramped one-room apartment-a five minute walk away from college-- and a few bottles of alcohol, weed, nail polish remover and just about everything that could get them fucked up.

The evening had started with casual banter about college professors, the new kids who had joined the college, girls, and pornography.

A few cell phone videos of girls bathing naked were transferred over Bluetooth amongst them.

A little later the bottled had been popped open.

Yoongi who had graduated just a few months back was a mentor to these kids.

He knew the exact proportions for deathly cocktails and the people who would have a steady supply of high potential weed even during a nuclear holocaust.

He knew how to get out of trouble. But more them that he knew how to get into trouble.

Like he had last night before when he passed out only to wake up in a hospital bed.

He remembered a seizure, he remembered feeling as if he was about to die, but nothing more than that.

He waited restlessly for the nurse to come in and tell him what the hell was going on.

I need to get the fuck out of here, he thought.

On other occasions, he would just jerk off the needles that punctured his hand and just walk right out of the bed, but there were too many of them this time and he wanted to know what was wrong, if anything.