Finding Bottom

Parting is such sweet...awkwardness

Jimin POV

After picking up our food and walking back to his place, I got dishes out, and we sat in front of the TV with our food. I flipped around the channels until I found a show I liked and started eating.

"Do you actually like watching TV?" Yoongi asked.

I nodded eagerly. "There are a couple of shows I don't like to miss. I love getting wrapped up in the fantasy of them. It takes me away from my own life; it's the perfect way to escape."

He looked at me thoughtfully. "And what do you need to escape from?"

I sat there shyly, taking a bite of food. "I mean, life in general, I guess. Doesn't everyone want a place to go where they can be anyone or no one at all? I like to feel entirely disconnected, entirely removed, immersed in some other world where I can't possibly exist."

I looked Yoongi in the eyes. "Don't you ever want to disappear?" I put my hand on his knee in a comforting embrace. I felt a slight flinch, but he felt warm, and I couldn't make myself let go of him. I found myself applying more pressure, and I started to move my hand up his thigh; it was moving very slowly, but I was moving it.

He didn't drop eye contact, but instead continued to stare at me. "Sometimes, yeah." He answered breathlessly.

I felt such a connection with him at that moment. I knew I was playing a dangerous game. As a nurse, I could not let myself get involved with patients, but he had such a pull on me. Finally remembering where I was in the conversation, I responded. "Exactly. These shows help me disappear, without the damage of drugs and alcohol. You should try it."

His eyes morphed from soft to a hard scowl, and his body tensed up. "Ugh. Don't you ever stop being a nurse? I don't need to hear this same thing every day."

I know he looked angry, but his angry face was so cute that I had to laugh. He rolled his eyes and I patted his knee, glad that I had managed to calm the fire that started to spark in me, satisfied that I could snap myself out of it this time. But I still felt out of control around him.

"Nope. It's part of who I am. Just like you don't ever stop being an artist. Always in your head creating, right?"

He didn't respond, and we continued watching TV in companionable silence until the show ended and I stood up to clear our dishes.

He got up at the same time, holding out his hand to take my dish. "Sit down. I'll take care of the dishes."

I hesitated. "I'm here to help. You should let me do my job."

"I already told you, I'm going stir crazy. I never cared about being tidy before, but I don't know what else to do with myself. I'm physically feeling better, I have been for a while, and you know that. Let me do something." He said it so decisively that I felt I had to listen.

As I handed the dishes over to him, I continued. "Yoongi, it doesn't feel right. Why am I here if not to do stuff for you?"

He stopped on his way to the kitchen and looked back at me. "Great question, Angel. Why are you here?"

I just looked at him. I had no answer I could give. I repeated it to myself in my head, "Why am I here?"

Our lives trudged along over the next few days. Yoongi continued going to his studio daily, with me tagging along because I had to. I had next to nothing to do at Yoongi's house or in his studio. Every other day I would clean one or the other, just to keep myself occupied. Yoongi had no further medical needs, and after discussing with Hoseok, we agreed that I would stay as a sort of sober coach, although I was in no way qualified to call myself that. Hoseok said that the forced presence of someone would keep Yoongi on track, and that he thought I was a good influence. I was curious what he meant by that but didn't press him on the topic.