sunshine • myg + jhs

05

he denied me my cigarettes, and i didn't want to fight with him, so i just left.
and it hurt me to do so.
i wanted to walk back in and apologize, because there was this odd feeling in my stomach that i had never felt before that told me that i should, but when i heard a thud inside followed by quiet cries, i knew i probably shouldn't.
he wouldn't want me to.
he wouldn't want to see me.
he hates me now.
i guess that was my mission though.
now i don't have to talk to anyone anymore.
i go downstairs, and walk to the store that sits a block away from home, then decide that on such a shit day, work will be the worst for me.
so i smoke.
i smoke a lot.
on the way back from the store, and for a bit outside my apartment complex.
after maybe ten minutes of sucking in the smoky sanity, i go back inside and head to mine and tiny's apartment.
maybe he'll be home without that pesky boyfriend of his today.
maybe i'll talk to him.
like i used to.
i really do miss him.
i step into the house and hear loud cries coming from the direction of my bedroom, so i head there where he lies on my bed, sobbing.
"tiny? whats wrong?"
"i-you're- you're alive?"
he stands up quickly and wipes his face.
"what would make you think i'm dead?" i ask.
he comes to me and hugs me.
why is everyone doing this?
it's going to end up turning me soft.
"the car. i thought you got hit, hyung!"
i know he's talking about my saving of that kid yesterday.
i did cut it pretty close.
"how did you see that?"
"don't ask stupid things like that min yoongi! how did you see that- shut up! are you okay?"
i chuckle, nodding.
"no scratches or bruising?"
i show him my neck and he eyes me.
"other than those?"
i shake my head no.
"WELL THEN YOU'RE GOING TO GET SOME, YOU COCK!" he shouts and with one of my shirts he'd been crying into, he starts swinging. "I WAS WORRIED SICK. AND YOU DIDN'T COME HOME OR CALL ME OR ANYTHING. I TURNED DOWN A BIG DINNER WITH JUNGKOOKS FAMILY TO MOURN THE LOSS OF YOU. AND I TRIED YOUR PHONE. LIKE THIRTY THOUSAND TIMES. WHAT. THE. HELL. I CALLED THE FUCKING AMBULANCE. THE FUCKING POLICE. THEY TOLD ME THERE WAS NO ONE WHERE I SAW IT. THEY THOUGHT I WAS CRAZY. YOU CALL ME NEXT TIME YOU DO DANGEROUS SHIT OUTSIDE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU SO I KNOW YOU'RE ALIVE, GOT IT?"
i was on the floor now.
just a ball.
a ball being beaten with his own clothing.
"you done now?" i say, breaking my sphere formation.
"apologize."
"i'm sorry. i'll call next time, if there is one." i stand up and look at him.
his blonde hair shining in the thin bits of light that i allow into my room.
"thank you."
he hugs me again.
"are you going to work today, or can we hang out?" i ask as he leaves my bedroom.
he stops.
turns around slowly.
and looks at me as if i'd threatened to kill his mother.
"what did you say?"
"do you. want to. hang out. with me. today?" i say slowly, thinking he'd heard me wrong.
"are you sure you didn't get hurt, yoongi? you haven't wanted to hang out with me in... half a year? yeah. six months exactly actually. we went to get you that suit for whatever reason and then..."
"yeah. i know. and i'm sorry about that. i miss you."
he smiles and grabs my hand.
"i've missed you too. how about i get some wine and we-"
"i don't want to drink. i just want to talk with you like old times."
"we used to drink during those times."
"then you get yourself some wine, and i'll take care of you when you get tipsy."
he touches my forehead.
"are you sure you're feeling alright? you love drinking,"
"i just don't want to drink anymore, tiny, i'm okay."
"okay. so no wine. wanna help me make cookies?"
i smile and we head to the kitchen.
"so!" he says rather loud.
it hurts my head but i pay it no mind.
"you start talking i'll start baking," his smile spreads wide and i can't help but to agree.
there's just so much he doesn't know.
"oh christ. where should i start?"
"six months ago. why'd you just stop talking to me?"
"it wasn't just you. well. actually yes but don't feel bad about that fact it's just i had nobody else in my life."
"that's not the question. and i'm realizing as i speak that i sound angry, or well guilt trip-y. i'm not trying to be. just wondering why?"
"i uh- i have- uhm. okay. here's the thing. i have. okay."
"oh my gosh yoongi spit it out."
"ihavestagethreelungcancer" i do as he said.
spit it.
all one word.
"wh-what?"
"six months ago. i was diagnosed with stage three lung cancer. i got sad. very very very sad. like sadder than i had already been which is very scary because you know how fucked up i already was. that's why i isolated myself. because my brain just... i had been trying to be a good person. i believe i was a good person. i'm not anymore because why would something so shitty happen to a good person. so i said fuck it. fuck everyone. fuck life. i started smoking. i stopped eating because the treatment just makes it unappealing, but you said no and made me. i started drinking. i just got sad. i haven't been treating it because i don't believe it. i don't. it can't be fucking real because i'm not gone yet and i've been treating myself like shit continuously trying to go quicker. like it's inevitable, ya know? so why not get it over with. but i can't. nothing will happen."
i look at him, and he somehow has baking powder everywhere.
"yoongi i'm-"
"no no please no sympathy that's another reason i didn't tell."
"okay then. but now i'm going to start nagging you more about those cancer sticks. for now i'll shut up about it so you can keep talking. now those bruises... will you explain those?"