He could feel the tears forming in his eyes. They were burning, blinding. His vision was getting more and more unclear, his arms were itching and his mind getting foggier. 

But he wasn't going to cry. 

Not today. 

Not now.

He was going to do it with no tears left behind. 

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The downfall had started with simple things. Forgetting homework, failing a test, and his parents yelling at him. It was pretty normal.

They had apologized soon after, saying he'd do better next time. 

But he didn't. 

Forgetting to do the chores, missing his curfew, sleeping all the time and more yelling, him saying he was going to be more careful the next time. 

But he wasn't. 

He didn't do better or try to stay awake, because he couldn't.

He was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. 

He didn't know when it had started. Maybe at ninth grade, maybe at high school - who cared? All he knew it was like it was, he just was like this, it was part of him now. The midnight cryings, the feeling of cold metal against skin, the burning and the numbness and being tired all the time - all part of him. He couldn't exactly remember a time without all this, it had always sort of been there, all the stress and high expectations just popped the bubble and made all of it explode.

There had been better times, yes. There still was. Yoongi was there now. Yoongi was better. When he was with him, he was better. Everything was better. 

Yoongi...

He had met Yoongi at the first year of high school. Yoongi had been unhappy for some reason, storming to the bathroom and kicking the doors and swearing out loud.

He had been crying in the corner of the bathroom and flinched when he had heard Yoongi. 

Yoongi had noticed him when he calmed down and stopped kicking the doors and he had asked him if he was okay. He had said he was, but Yoongi had just shaken his head and helped him up. 

Yoongi had asked him why he was crying. He had said he didn't really know, but he felt terrible. The older had just smiled at him and said it was okay. 

It was the first time someone had said it was okay.

The first time anyone had ever stopped to help him. 

Maybe that was what kept him attached to the older boy. He and Yoongi became friends at some point, and Yoongi had invited him to his place.

He had wanted to say no, but had said yes instead because Yoongi had helped him.

That's when he first had noticed Yoongi made him better. They talked a lot, well, Yoongi talked a lot and he listened, saying something only occassionally. Those were better times. 

Then there were times when he wasn't better. Those were the times he spent at home, listening to his parents' yelling about everything he had done wrong, big or small things.

The times he'd split his skin in two in the cold bathroom and cried silent tears all night long, all alone. 

So he had spent a lot of time with Yoongi, where he was better. His parents had stoppes caring at this point where he was or what he did.

One time he had been staying the night over at Yoongi's and they had been laying outside, watching the stars and Yoongi had told him he was stuck and didn't like this place. He had answered that  it wasn't so bad, it was actually beautiful if you thought about it - the people working hard, the children's innocence, the nature and even all the animals, wild or not. He had said people were beautiful, their feelings and all they did for their loved ones. Yoongi had asked if he was beautiful. He had answered 'of course', because Yoongi was - and still is - beautiful. 

Yoongi had stayed silent and then nodded with a smile on his face, thanking him. He had asked why, and Yoongi had said that he was right. It wasn't so bad at all. 

Yoongi had asked about him.He had told him about his sadness and the 'dark nights', as he called them and told him about his parents and how he was better with Yoongi. Yoongi had said he understood and asked if he had ever hurt himself. He had hesitated for a while before having answered with a faint yes. Yoongi had asked if he could see, and he had said yes and slowly rolled his sleeves up. He had turned his head away in embarrasment as Yoongi had studied the red marks and scars on his otherwise fair skin. 

Yoongi had cried and hugged him a good ten minutes before talking about 'this place' again to get his mind off it. He told Yoongi that he wanted to finish writing a novel he had started last year before... before his depression got worse. Yoongi nodded and said that he could give him some ideas. They had talked long into the night about everything and all, and that was the first time he had spent the night without crying or dragging the cold metallic blade on his skin.

He had laughed at Yoongi's lame jokes and smiled when they held hands.

That was the first time he realised he had fallen in love. The first time he had been okay and happy in months. He had confessed this to Yoongi and the other had just smiled before telling him he liked him too.

So the two had started dating. Most of the 'dates' had included them just watching the stars or movies or sometimes going go a café or something. Most of the time he had stayed over at Yoongi's place.

Every single time before they had went to sleep, Yoongi had told him he was going to be okay.

He had believed Yoongi for a while. 

But then they had started. The dark nights, even when he was with Yoongi. He still loved Yoongi, but he just wasn't better with him anymore. He was constantly sad, and one time Yoongi asked him if he was okay. He said he was and faked a smile. They repeated this every time, and each time he said he was okay and faked a smile.

Yoongi believed him for a while. 

But only a while.

He would've believed him longer if it wasn't for one night.

The last night he ever spent at Yoongi's.  

They had been watching some movies all night, cuddling on Yoongi's couch. They had shared hugs and kisses between the movies and he had felt good. 

But Yoongi had fallen asleep at the middle of the next movie, leaving him to his own. He had pulled a blanket over Yoongi and leaned to the older boy and tried to sleep too so he wouldn't begin overthinking. 

He had woken up after only ten minutes because of a nightmare about his parents, crying. His body had been shaking with no end to it, and his arms and legs were itching and no matter how much he had scratched, it just hadn't went away. He had tried to keep silent as he had stood up and looked at Yoongi, who had been still fast asleep. He had taken his bag with him to the bathroom and opened it quietly, pulling the metal blade from the bottom of the bag. He hadn't wanted to do it, but the itching at his arms had been too much for him, his mind hadn't been able to focus on anything but the itching. His quiet sobs and weepings had filled the cold bathroom as he had dug the cold blade to his wrist, whimpering. He had watched as the thin line started to bleed crimson red and he had smiled a little. Finally, his mind had felt a little clearer and not as messy as before. He had done it again and again, making more and more cuts as he had smiled in ecstasy. 

He had been ready to make the tenth cut for today when the door had opened. His mouth had dropped wide and he had felt tears b in his eyes. 

Yoongi. 

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He smiled bitterly to himself about these memories as he felt the sun warming him. It really wasn't the weather for doing this, was it now? But he couldn't care less at the moment. The tears he had promised to not to shed had started escaping his eyes as he heard Yoongi's voice in his head. He swung his legs back and forth, starting to remember the scene after Yoongi had opened the door to the bathroom...