sincerely, r

thirty one

) Incoming call from Becca <3 (

> Answer? <

Yes - No

Yes - No

Answering...

"Yoongi?" Her voice was small, her nose stuffed as she spoke. Yoongi closed his eyes, letting the tears trace his face.

"I'm right here. Tell me what you need, I'm here." Yoongi stared out his window, his pacing halted by her voice.

"I'm, bleeding."

Yoongi bit his lip and closed his eyes again, his imagination ripping apart his heart. She was so happy, what happened?

"Okay, that's okay Becca. You're okay." Yoongi began, hoping his voice would help her calm down. "Do you have a wrap?"

"Yeah..." She whispered, her voice dark, defeated.

"Go ahead and get that. Can you do that for me?" Yoongi opened his eyes and sat at his desk, rubbing his forehead. "You have it?" Becca mumbled something that sounded like a yes. It was enough for Yoongi. "Run cold water over the cuts, okay? Once you've done that, grab a clean towel and dry it, dabbing, not wiping, okay?" Yoongi heard her set down the phone and he hoped she had it on speaker. "I love your freckles. I love your smile. And your laugh? Nothing can compare to that. I would listen to that over any song, over anyone else's laugh."

"What are you doing?"

"And I will meet you one day, I promise you this. I will hug you and reassure you. I will be there in person to tell you everything is going to be okay. You just have to keep living. You have to live for me."

"I can't." She sobbed out, dropping the towel to the floor and laying her head on the counter top, her shoulder shaking as she cried and cried. No one was there to hold her. No one was there to wipe her tears. "I can't!"

"Yes you can." Yoongi's voice remained calm and steady. She needed someone to lean on, she needed something steady and solid to trust. Through his tears, he spoke calmly. "I believe in you."

"I don't believe in me." Her voice cracked, her sobs reduced to heavy, uneven breathing. Yoongi heard her try to regain control, but he also heard her crumble. "I can't do it. I just want to die."

"You just want the suffering to stop. You don't want to die."

"I want to die."

"You don't want to see me?" Yoongi made her freeze. She sat the knife down, staring at her phone. "You don't want to see any of us? You don't want to see the Northern Lights? You don't want to see the Eiffel Tower? You don't want to see Rome or your dream city? You want to leave your books unfinished, those ideas not written? You don't want to publish a book?" Yoongi took a quiet breath, making sure she couldn't hear it shake. "You don't want to hug me?"

"I do want to." She looked down at her hands, stained with blood. "I want to do all of that."

"Then live Becca. You live your best life." Yoongi looked over at his piano. "Becca, I will buy you a plane ticket the second you want one, okay? I will buy you a ticket to anywhere. You just tell me, okay?"

"O-okay." She stuttered, her tears silent, sobs no longer uncontrollable. All her life, no one has been able to calm her down, no one's words had worked to help.

But that ended. Yoongi helped.

"Do you want me to get Jungkook or Jimin to sing for you-"

"No," Becca started to wrap her wrists. "No, I want you."

"You want me to play the piano?"

"Please."