Helping [PART ONE OF THE HELPING SERIES]

66

I punched in the code to the studio and opened the door, seeing Yoongi in front of the computer again, frustrating himself.

"Hyungie," I hummed, shutting the door and coming closer. "How was practice?"

"Tiring," he muttered.

"Then why don't you take a shower and a nap to relax before working again?" I offered, placing my hands on his shoulders and pecking his jaw.

"Because I've got dates to meet, Jimin," he snapped. "I can't relax because I've got to create new songs and new lyrics."

"Oh," I mumbled, taking my hands off. My eyes started to water at being shouted at, not really sure how to handle Yoongi being upset with me. I didn't like being snapped at, but if Yoongi did it, it was a million times worse. "I didn't mean to bother you."

He sighed, tapping away at his computer with a harsh scowl. I backed away and sniffled, turning to leave the studio.

"J—Just make sure to eat something and sleep," I mumbled, clearing my throat.

I shut the door and started walking down the hall before moving faster and running out into the living room, past Jin and Namjoon, up the stairs, into Yoongi's and my room, shutting the door—not too loudly because of the pups—and launching myself at the bed, feeling the shuddering sobs break out.
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"Min Yoongi, open this damn door right this second," Jin shouted.

"I'm busy!" I snapped.

"Apparently too much to realize that your mate is drowning in tears in your room?!"

I jumped up and flung open the door. "What?"

"He came to check on you and ran out of the hall in tears and running up to your room. He's not telling me why he's crying, but he's been up there sobbing his eyes out."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?!" I growled, pushing him out of the way to quickly storm down the hall.

"Because I thought that you would've picked up on it by now! Did he give you any reason to think he started to cry?!"

"I snapped at him because I was working an—" I stopped walking. "Oh shit, I fucked up."
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I held Yoongi's pillow close to me, burying my face in it and inhaling his scent before breaking down in muffled cries. The door opened and shut, but my back was to it.

"Chim?" I heard quietly. Yoongi.

"Are you going to yell at me again?" I murmured, frowning into the pillow and sniffling.

"Baby, that was wrong, I'm sorry. I'm just stressed about the schedules and the pup and I lost control for a minute there. I didn't mean to snap at you."

He sat on the edge of the bed and played with my hair.

"I just miss you sometimes," I mumbled, hugging the pillow tighter. "Jin wanted chocolate and strawberries when he was pregnant. I just want you. I want you to hold me and kiss me and tell me how proud you are for me having your pup and telling me how excited and anxious you are about it. But you're too busy anyway. I get it. You're the composer and producer for the band, you make the music. But sometimes I just want you to hold my hand and tell me that we'll go through this together and you'll be there for the doctor appointments, the labor, and the birth. We tried so hard for this and now I feel like we're not communicating enough. We're not as together as you promised we would be."

He was quiet for a bit, rubbing a few strands of hair between his fingers.

"Then let's get married."

I sat up at looked at him in shock. "But—you're—"

"I know. But I want to do this. ARMY can't tell me who I can or can't love. No management is going to stop me from mating someone I love. No person is going to stop me from being with my baby and the man having my baby. I want to get married. Fuck being famous. I want you too. But maybe with a ring around that finger and a different last name. So how about it? Do you want to get married?" He asked, wiping my tears away with a soft smile.

"Of course I do, idiot," I laughed, starting to cry again.