Polychromatic || Yoonseok [𝑂𝑁 𝐻𝑂𝐿𝐷]

✨ᴏɴᴇ✨

Yoongi ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes jerking in every direction as if there was someone in the room. He held his legs to his baggy yellow sweatshirt. Snow breezed by the large window with plain red curtains.

The male shook his head, trying to erase what he saw with his own eyes.

"Don't hurt me. P-Please don't hurt me." He closed his eyes as tears fell down his face. "I love you, why are you doing this to me!"

The salty liquid streamed down his face pulling up the sleeve of his hoodie. A scar from a bruise lined his wrist, trailing up his right arm.

The blue haired male stood up from the bed, pointing his arm at someone he saw. "I'm not weak!" He shouted into the air, at the visions.

Yoongi started to tremble with fear as he collapsed to ground, like he was being pushed. "You left me." A murmur slipped from his mouth.

Dr.Yosemite slipped her way into the room after a few minutes, seeing the condition of the younger male she ran over to him, placing his medication on the table. "Yoongi, breathe."

"W-What's happening?" The anxious male kept his eyelids shut in fear of opening them.

"You're okay Yoongi. It was just your visions. He's not here." The doctor comforted the younger male using a low tone of voice.

"He's not here" he mumbled as he opened his orbs to see the coffee colored hair woman in front of him, his chest rising up and down.

The doctor helped Yoongi back onto his bed to calm him down, letting him grab hold of a pillow he used whenever the illusions would occur.

She handed him his medication and a glass of water, which he swallowed instantly. "It was really bad this time, Yosemite. It was really bad."

The older woman sat down next to him, her eyebrows raised. "Tell me any detail you want to. You don't have to tell me everything you're not comfortable with saying." Her voice always reassured Yoongi, she seemed to understand him.

"W-We were in our kitchen... I was making dinner. H-He walked into the r-room, and grabbed me by the wrist telling how w-weak I was..." Yoongi shook his head, his blue locks falling over parts of his eyes.

"You're very strong Yoongi, you made it out of what could've been a deadly situation." Her soft tone and smile let the younger male feel more at ease.

///

Jungkook traced the scar that trailed up his forearm as he stared at a blank canvas. The male didn't know why he was still here, or how he survived that night.

There was a lot he didn't know, except he was kept away from sharp objects and was only given medication by the doctors.

Those pills that he was forced to swallow were pointless, but he never spoke up about it.

The cherry haired male sighed, painting a bright blue sky onto the canvas. The grass a bright green, with a sidewalk in the dead center.

Pink cherry blossoms were painted onto the dark tree's, a thing that he had always loved. Memories that he would never forget. 

The final detail was two heavily people walking down the sidewalk, hands interlocked. "Where did you go Tae, you never visit anymore." A tear fell from the young males face.

Jungkook dropped the paintbrush on the ground. "Liar." paint splattered on the ground, only to be mopped up later. 

///

The pink haired male stirred at the purple dye for his client, and a friend he had known before coming into this mental hospital.

Seokjin.

Before taking the chemical mixture out to the older male, he touched the dye with the tip of his finger, feeling the burning sensation. "It's purple like when the sunsets on a summer night." He proceeded to rinse the dye off, replacing his bare hands with back gloves.

His puma shoes folded across the hair studio's floor with ease. This was calming to him, being able to continue his job in the mental hospital. There were a couple other's in the studio who studied cosmetology, working on hair.

The younger male sighed knowing that they could see each pigment of color, while he could only feel it, letting his eyes highlight it for a split second.

But then the pigment was gone, leaving him to see in shades of black and white.

Too lost in his thought, he took the brush and started applying color to the bleached hair of Jin's. "It's hard being in here, Hoseok. I never thought I would see a face like yours in here." The voice from the older sounded dejected.

"I've lacked empathy for so long, Jin. It was time I was put in a place that I could learn it properly." He placed more of the dye on the back of the older male's head, his reflection in the mirror.

A frown stayed painted on Seokjin's face. "Well, that something I suppose." He let out a sigh. "I heard that you talked to that Yoongi guy."

The younger nodded his head. "It's time help us both, to get him to feel more comfortable around people while I get better at talking to people without having to touch them to know what they're feeling."

"What am I feeling right now then?" Jin chuckled a bit.

"I'm not sure." Hoseok's heart raced as he applied the last of the dye, putting the brush down in the bowl.

No words were said as he walked into the back room, removing his gloves. He started putting water into the bowl, and added a bit of soap. He scrubbed at it, letting the bits of dye wash out.

Then the male looked to his hands, and to the neon colors staining the brush. He shook his head as he backed away from the hair dresser material, turning off the sink.

"Not here, not now." He mumbled to himself, putting his hands in the cape of the pocket, running out of the room.

He let himself stand outside as the dye was settling into Jin's hair, taking a deep breath to acknowledge what was happening to him.

Hoseok removed one of his hands that were still stained in the neon color. "I was all an experiment, now look what you've done to me."

///

Jimin typed onto his computer, writing a book that he would send to publishers. The male was a writer, who worked at a coffee shop for a part time job to make sure he had just enough money.

Taehyung stepped into the room, visiting his friend. "I'm still in love with Jungkook." He confessed.

"You're such a liar." The black haired male typed vigorously onto the keys. "If you still loved him you wouldn't have stopped visiting him two months ago!"

The red haired male was frozen for a second. "You know how hard it is to see him suffer, and be in pain. You know how hard it is to see the scar on his wrist. When I walk in there I remember that night like a movie."

Jimin turned his officer chair to face the taller male. "No one said you had to visit him everyday, but you could have at least made an effort to make him feel better. We could've had the Jungkook we thought we knew by now if we made more of and effort."

He sighed then continued. "But I feel like I'm the only one making an effort to relieve his mental state."

///