A/N: this chapter changes profiles a few times so basically whenever theres a line then its from the alternate persons point of view :)

You were fuming. It didn’t take a genius to guess what Jimin had done last night.

He was slipping. Just when you thought everything in your life was stable, he goes and relapses. But the thing that was bothering you the most was the simplest question: why?! You thought thing were going great for him too. Obviously not.

But you remembered what it was like.

That numb feeling that wouldn’t go away, regardless of what you did. Each day, you woke up just to go back to sleep, it wasn’t even about living… it was about surviving, using whatever method.

Eventually it was about not surviving.

That’s why you knew you had to be gentle with Jimin, putting your own feelings aside.

Last night, you had given up waiting for him. You thought about going back to the practise room but, truthfully, you were scared. You didn’t want the memories, those feelings, to come back.

So you came home, leaving him a ton of messages before eventually falling asleep.

And now you had woken up the next day, immediately checking your phone.

Still no reply.

Right.

You got out of bed and hurried through your morning routine. You had a feeling he would still be in the practise room. So that’s where you were going to go. You threw some clothes on and, on the way out, grabbed a cereal bar and some fruit.

You knew you should calm down, but you would only end up getting worked up again. The morning breeze hit you and you remembered you had forgotten your jacket, but it didn’t matter.

Jimin was the only thing on your mind.

There was a banging on the door which made Jimin jump. He had begun practising again before the members arrived. He looked at his phone, puzzled. They were early.

Jimin went and opened the door, only to be greeted with an exploding force in the form that he knew too well.

It was her.

She burst in and stood in the middle of the room, her foot tapping the hard wood floor and her head cocked to the side. Jimin bought his eyes up to meet hers and he immediately wished that he’d hadn’t. They were like lasers, burning through his skull, discovering all his secrets and everything he had to be ashamed of.

You have nothing to be ashamed of…

Jimin swallowed. His thoughts had been confirmed even before she spoke. She knew.

“Do you want to tell me what happened last night?”

“Hello to you too y/n. It’s a lovely morning.”

She looked at him with a death glare. Sarcasm was probably not the best choice.

She crossed her arms, waiting for a proper answer. Jimin sighed and walked over to the bench and sat down.

“I wasn’t feeling too well, so I just went home instead of coming out. Sorry for not calling or anything, but my phone was off.”

“Really Jimin?”

He nodded.

“Then tell me, please, why does it smell – no wait, stink – of sick in here?”

You saw him freeze. He looked up, his face making him look like a small child who had lost his mummy. You weren’t going to let him tell you any more bull.

You sighed and went to sit next to him. “Jimin tell me the truth. Please.”

What do I do now?

She was sitting so close to him. He could smell her perfume.

He couldn’t keep this up any longer; she was staring at him with a look that made him so ashamed. He wanted to say sorry for everything.

You have nothing to be sorry about.

“Y/n…”

He put his hand on her leg…