Wildflowerkook
Yoongi doesn't talk much anymore.
Not since the accusations, not since the silence became louder than love.
He lives in a house where laughter echoes through halls that never call his name, where warmth belongs to everyone else, but him.
And yet, he stays, folding his hurt into soft smiles, speaking to disconnected numbers, and leaving his heart in voicemails no one will ever hear.
Until one night, Jin accidentally stumbles across Yoongi's world , the one built quietly between loneliness and love.
They believed he used drugs.
He believed his family would still believe him.
They didn't.
A world where every unsent word bleeds, and every silence means I'm still here.
A story about the boy who was accused of drugs and his hyungs turning their backs on him.
A story about the love that lingers even when it's never returned. About the people who stay behind, and the silence that swallows them whole.
TW: False accusations, heavy angst, mentions of insomnia and drugs.