Yoongi was thirteen when he had his first crush. It remained a crush though, because he saw the other party holding hands with a girl just as he finally had the courage to confess. They looked so great together that he didn’t dare to reveal the fact that, the one having a crush on that person was a boy.

At fifteen, he found out he wasn’t attracted to guys only when he accountained a girl, whom he later knew was three years older than him, with round glasses and books unders he arm. It was love at first sight, because the moment their eyes met, he couldn’t forget how soft her hands were when he handed her dropped books back. This time he confessed. And she said she didn’t date boys.

Bummer.

On his eighteenth birthday, there was this guy from the neighbourhood who baked him a cake as present, and after the forth without any particular reason (except the guy said it was for both Yoongi and his brother), he knew he was being pursued. He was scared (if not terrified) because it had never been him on the defensive side. So, in order to ease himself as well as his supposed-to-be-peaceful boring life, he prepared an entire speech on rejecting the guy. That was, until he received a letter. A love letter, at that.

He went out with the guy for a month. They would seek into each other’s home for some cuddling when it was lonely, for some warmth when it was cold, for some comfort when it was hard, or for some “gatecrash” when it was contented.

That was his first serious relationship and time files when you’re having fun.   

The fire happened when they were transfering some needy kisses in Yoongi’s room. It started from two houses away and by the time it reached his home, it became so big that it was almost impossible to be put out. Since it was basically attached to the house beside theirs, his room was first to catch on fire. The fire spreaded fast. Their spare wooden house couldn’t hold on for long when the first balk fell, and then the second, and when they were conscious enough to actually urge each other to stand up and get the hell out, there were no way out.

The fallen balks blocked the door with flames flared up everywhere.

The only window in the room would have been their savior if it hadn't been concealed with metal bars. Yoongi yelled his partner’s name, frantically pressed him to figure something out, soak the sheet with the water from the bucket placed in the corner of the room and cover their bodies with it or just it all and run through the flame or whatever. He heard some “okay okay” and “let me think” and “”. 

Yoongi heard his name from the other side of the door.

“Dad!” He called out in relief. “Dad! Is there anything I can do?”

“Just stay away from the door!” A muffle voice sounded. “And cover your mouth.”

Only a brief five seconds and some loud bangings later, the door was knocked down.

His father only took a glance at another presence aside from his son before yelling behind his hand.

“I will push one of the balks away and you two have to run fast through, very fast. Okay?”

As soon as his father finished the last word, his hands was quick to use a cane, which Yoongi soon realized was his late grandfather’s, to push a balk blocking the door away.

They took their chance and ran through the flames as fast as they could muster. He urged himself to ignore the burning feeling that tingled at his skin despite the wet cloth over them and the surprisingly distinguished smell of his scorching hair until he was on the other side.

He turned to face his father and breathlessly said, “Quick, we have to get out of here. Where’s mom and Jungkook?”

“Jungkook’s at Jimin’s. You and your friend get out first, I need to find your mom. She’s probably in the kitchen– Cough-cough.”

“No, I ca-”

“Please Yoongi, listen to me. You have to get out, now.” His father’s gaze was fierce.

He bit back a retort and swallowed his tears in, “Please, you and mom-”

“I know,” His father placed a quick reassuring kiss on his head and pushed him away, “I promise we’ll be out in no time. Now go.”

“You heard him! Let’s go!” A third, impatient, voice rung and only then did Yoongi remembered there was still another person beside him and his father.

He turned to look at the guy before quickly turning back to his father.

“No.” He made his mind, “If you want to go, then go. I’m not leaving without my parents.”

“What? You-” The guy bit back a curse, “Fine, if you want to die so bad, so be it.”

Yoongi didn’t care when the guy left, he threw the wet sheet he brought with him over himself and his father, “Let’s go, we don’t have much time before the house crashes.”

They found his mother collapsing on the kitchen’s floor, gasping for air. They quickly placed the wet cloth over her nose.

“Honey, can you stand? We need to get out fast, the house is gonna crash soon.”

His mother muttered a weak ‘yes’ before trying her best to stand on her feet, which wobbled a little as she hold onto her husband and son. They quickly, but carefully, made their way out and tried to advoid any place that could fall down their heads.

Yoongi was very focus on following his father’s steps, holding his mother tight so that she wouldn’t lose her grip when he felt a strong blow that almost, literally, took his breath away. Right after that was a loud crash and sparks splashed. His back hit something that seemed like the edge of a table so hard that he was sure he heard it cracked.

But it was nothing at all, when he felt a sudden sharp shooting pain coming from his left eye.

A silent gasp escaped his lips as he brought his hand up to cover his blood-gushing eye.

Something was embeded into it.

“Ah… Ah…”

He wanted to speak. He wanted to call for his mother. He wanted to ask her why she pushed him away. But his tounge felt like it was tided.

His vision was blurry and full of red and orange. He tried to reach out with one hand and feel around but everything he touched was burning hot.

“M-mom?” He tried to work his tounge and called out breathlessly, “Mom? Dad? Where are you? Mom…”

He started sobbing and it soon turned into a mess as the only sound he could hear was his hoarse scream and the inarticulate words rolling on his tounge.

“Mom? Dad!” He didn’t know how much time had passed when a voice came in the mist of the popping sound of burning wood, “Hyung? Where are you?”

“Jungkook…” He whispered before hoarsely raising his voice, every syllable hurt, “Jungkook! Jungkook, Jungkook,…”

He kept calling with the hope of his brother finding him, he was so terrified and out of his mind that when a wet cloth touched him, he could only clung onto the person wearing it and just repeated the word he’d been saying, over and over.

“Oh god- I’m here, I’m here. The fire is dying down, people are helping us putting it down, we’re gonna be okay. Where are mom and da-” Jungkook shakily said as he frantically looked around, and abruptly stopped when his eyes landed on something, “No, no…”

Yoongi stopped calling Jungkook’s name and suddenly grabbed the younger’s collar, struggling to let his voice out,  “Mom, mom, she pushed me, she pushed me so that the ceiling didn’t fall on me, where is she, where-”

Then it was pitch black.