They fell asleep after Jimin wiped the mess they’d made on each other. The younger snuggled against his side, caressing his wrist until his eyes grew heavy. He didn’t get to say what he really wanted, something along the line of wanting the boy to stay by his side, not leaving him until he opened his eyes again. That was what haunted him the most, the feeling of waking up to an absence, to nothing but the cold air around him. That part gnawed at him as much as the whispers did and by now he was sure that his sleep would be rid of nightmares when Jimin was there to comfort him.

The boy was definitely a drug. His sleeping pills. His gravity and anchor.

And when he finally drifted off to sleep and wake up when the light was seeping through the curtain, he couldn’t help but to smile again as his eyes caught sight of the familiar brown hair. Jimin was fast asleep against his chest with hands around his waist and their legs intertwining. The boy’s other hands, like he had suspected it, was still wrapped around his left wrist.

Yoongi buried his nose against the boy’s hair. He smelled mostly like his shampoo but there was a hint of this smell, something like a tinge of old wood and record. It was weird to say, but Jimin’s smell reminded him of that old record store in Hongdae, the one in which he heard Epik High’s Fly for the first time. It was weird to say that a certain someone’s smell could revive such memory, but the boy just proved that. Yoongi remember him entering the store when he was in middle school, looking for a CD of classical music since it was the time he was forced to play the harp, his parents wouldn’t let him off the hook until he managed to play canon in D for a certain colleague’s wedding. They practically just wanted to show their kid’s musical talent off, when ironically he thought, how he could spew cuss words against the mic better than his fingers could pluck the spring oh-so-elegantly. He entered the store and hip hop was playing on the speaker, Tablo’s rap echoing through the wall. That was the day he fell in love with rap, the day little Min Yoongi thought that he could be something more than his parents hoped him to be. Or at least it was the day that he got to believe that childish dream, for mere seconds.

Jimin shifted slightly, probably realizing Yoongi’s little action before the boy’s eyes fluttered open, blinking rapidly to wake himself up. He rubbed his eyes before cracking a small smile and turned his head towards Yoongi.

“Morning, hyung,” he said.

The next thing he did must be categorize as smiling, because the corner of his own mouth twitched, mimicking the boy’s action. It had definitely been so long, his cheek’s muscle protested against the action, or he was definitely just being hyperbolic. Jimin’s smile grew wider as he did so, and he pulled out a finger, only to prod against the corner of Yoongi’s mouth, feeling the smile forming underneath his finger.

He never knew that waking up to someone’s warmth would feel this nice. He had never woken up to someone’s face and felt this happy before.

Heck, he hadn’t even felt happy for a long time he had forgotten how it was like.

“You’re awake and I’m here,” he said, brushing his finger against Yoongi’s lips, reading his thoughts again. It was what he said last night, how he simply panicked from such nightmare and woke up to find Jimin was gone.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered. “Don’t you ing dare.”

Jimin smiled upon hearing his words that sounded more like a threat than a request. He caught something else, though, something that glistened in the boy’s eyes, something that slightly changed for the slightest of moment before it disappeared again, as if he was about to remonstrate the words. His expression twitched the very slightest upon hearing his words but the boy just quickly smiled again and Yoongi chose to forget whatever he just caught earlier.

“I won’t, hyung,” he said. “I’ll always be here.”

.

“You know hyung, you should really go to college,” Jimin said as they ate breakfast on the kitchen table. Their whole activities had been done on top of the couch or the kitchen table instead, and only at the two places did they start a decent conversation.

Yoongi was eating another pack of instant ramyun (or at least the remainder of it) whereas Jimin managed to ransack his food cabinet and found a cereal that he legit believed was expired long ago. He eyed the younger as he fumbled with the drawers, taking out the bowl and spoons like he owned the place. Funny was seeing the boy taking out whatever he wanted from wherever it was without even asking him on the first place. He had lost track about how many nights had Jimin spent at his place. He still needed to go home at some point, or at least before he permanently moved in.

Permanently. Why did he even thinking about having Jimin in his apartment forever? Like they could simply live together and spend their days like they had been the last couple of weeks. But if his life was a painting, Jimin managed to merge in it effortlessly, blending in through the paint and background, being a natural part that made him what he was right now. Even the sight of him in the long sweater that he borrowed and a bowl of cereal that he owned didn’t feel foreign at all.

He didn’t actually want to go to college. He didn’t find the need to, just like he’d been doing for the last couple of months. He didn’t really want to step his foot outside, opting to just sit on his couch and stare at the blank television screen. Yet even doing that didn’t appeal much to him anymore. Staring at the blank television wasn’t something one would deem entertaining, but for months he hadn’t complained. Now he started to feel that boredom, creeping through his skin, the urge to do something more.

“You said back then that you would if I went to school as well,” he said again, sitting in front of Yoongi.

“Your point is?”

“How about I go to school today, and you go to college, hyung,” Jimin said.

He had missed a lot of lectures and being held back a year or two was a risk he was willing to take. He just needed to graduate before he could take over the company like his parents had planned him to.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said. It wasn’t actually, but he wasn’t really willing to do it either.

The boy pouted, puckering his own lips and trying to make a cute face.

“Oh, come on hyung. I don’t want to go back to school either but if it was the only thing that got you from going to college, I’m willing to do that,” he said.

He didn’t know why he was willing to do that for him, for someone that he barely knew. He didn’t even know the reason of half the things that Jimin did. He knew very little about the boy yet here they were with Yoongi believing that he wouldn’t be able to function properly without Jimin. Was this love? Definitely not, he thought, though he certainly hadn’t experienced that before.

But no, this wasn’t love.

This definitely wasn’t, because he believed that the only person he would love would be no other than himself.

.

For the short course of time that he knew Jimin, he realized that he was indeed a hypocrite. There was something about Jimin that made him deny every single thing about himself. And so when he thought that he wouldn’t be going to step his foot outside of his apartment, he found himself standing in the elevator instead, feet stomping on the ground with hands crossed on his chest. Jimin was behind him with face glowing and every bit of eager. It would be cold outside, knowing that it was winter already so the both of them was clad in coats (Yoongi had this particular oversized scarf wrapped around his neck), Jimin practically borrowing everything he had from head to toe. He said about going back to a friend’s house first to change then went to school.

The moment they arrived at the basement Yoongi went straight to his car, parked in its respectable space. Namjoon had done indeed a good job in taking care of fixing it. There was no sign whatsoever that could indicate how the said car had went through such accident before. They managed to restore the broken headlight, replacing it with new ones and even done magic with the sight door, leaving no hint of scratch or dent along the surface. It looked completely brand new, slick and spotless. That alone explained how he by any chance wouldn’t be able to find the remaining trace of blood that-,

“Come on, hyung,” he said.

Yoongi gulped. No, he was going to forget about that, just like Namjoon had said to him. Both of them would forget that such conversation ever happened. Soon enough it would be long forgotten, just like the scar that he hid under the sleeve of his shirt and leather wristwatch.

“Yeah,” he whispered, before getting back behind the wheel and turning the engine on.

The headache that he had almost forgotten came creeping back as he placed both hand on the steering wheel. Cold sweat rolled down his forehead and the back of his neck. The nightmares. They always started with him sitting behind the very wheel that felt too familiar underneath his touch. It started with him stomping on the gas, his headache came knocking in and suddenly everything was black. He wouldn’t hit the brake, wouldn’t even feel the impact, and the next thing he knew was blood painted on the hood of his car and a figure lying on the asphalt road, being completely visible from the rearview mirror.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong, nothing was going to be. He was fine. He was perfectly okay. He had Jimin next to him and-,

“Hyung, you’re fine,” the boy whispered, reaching his hand, gently touching his elbow.

-and he was going to be fine, as long as Jimin was next to him. He quickly turned his head around, seeing the hand on his elbow before moving towards the boy’s face. He felt at peace, oddly. He could go back to forgetting his problem once again.

“I-I can’t do this,” he stuttered.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t sit behind the steering wheel again, not in this very car at least and remembered how familiar it was to see the road as it was in his dream. Being behind the steering wheel had reminded him awfully of the thing that he desperately tried to forget. He fumbled with the door next to him before climbing out of it, face buried in his palm. He took a few feet away, his legs shaking before turning around and took a good look of his car. One couldn’t help but to think that it was no different than a murder weapon now, something that was used to end the life of a certain someone.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right,” Jimin said, getting off the car and ran next to him, grabbing both his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

His eyes were still cast on the car, thinking how the body would be hit by the hood before it rolled towards the roof and went over it. The said body would be reduced to nothing but rag, no form of human whatsoever if it was met with the speed of his car. The one human form would be turned into a twisted lying figure, with bones protruding and blood soaking.

“Hyung, we could take the bus, all right?” the boy said, comforting him, hands going to his wrist again already. “We don’t have to take the car if it frightened you.”

Yoongi nodded slowly, gasping for air, pretty much feeling himself like a fish out of water. Panic attack or whatever the he was going to call that out. He wiped his drenched forehead and turned around, not even bothered to lock the door. Someone could take it for all he care, he could replace it with another easy enough.

He just let Jimin dragged him out of the basement and back into the lobby before they finally stepped out of the building, the cold wind  of early winter greeting them. He hadn’t taken a bus in a very long time and he just let Jimin guided him.

All the time he just let the boy intertwined their fingers together. It was a good distraction though, because he went from thinking about his nightmare to the warmth that spread from his hand. Yes, Jimin’s fingers against his were seriously a good distraction.

.

It felt like years since he was out under the sun. They took the subway before Jimin left him at Banpo station and he went straight to university alone. It felt weird to not being inside of his apartment or behind his steering wheel at that. That and finding his head completely light, feet stepping upon the ground just like other anonymous figures around him did. For such a fleeting moment he felt normal. Not like he wasn’t before, but with his current circumstances he surely as hell didn’t think that people would be feeling and going through things that he did.

To find himself standing in front of his university building was even a more foreign feeling. It felt like years had passed yet nothing seemed to change. It wasn’t the building. Perhaps it was Yoongi himself who did. Everything felt so odd, even his nightmare came more like a reality instead of his footsteps echoing through the hall.

He felt oddly out of place as he sat in his statistic class right on time, facing the professor that looked a bit startled even to see his face (the fact that his own professor even remembered his face came as a surprise to him as well). How long had he been missing? Two months? Three? All those days he spent in his apartment, the telephone call and the car crashing diminished into a memory long forgotten. He was back to being the Min Yoongi who sat at the very back of the class if possible, listening to the boring lecture with face showing a clear hint of disinterest. The Min Yoongi who just wanted everything to end quickly because he hated every second of being in that goddamn university to study something he had absolutely zero interest upon.

“Yoongi, goddamn it, you’re here.”

He turned his head around and realized that it was Seokjin, walking towards an empty seat next to him. He forgot that he shared the same statistic class as the elder, in which he always spent it sitting beside him.

“Oh my god, Yoongi, I can’t believe I’m seeing you here, out of your apartment,” he said, mouth slowly agape and surprise being written clearly on his face. It would only need a drop of the books he’d been holding to add some clichés to it. He looked as if he was about to hug him but he quickly shifted slightly, telling the elder that such action was embarrassing and unnecessary. “You’re attending college again.”

The last time he was talking to Seokjin, he was being angry. The elder always had the time to be concerned and it bothered him so much. His literal word irritated him now, as if he had to make this little change that felt too overwhelming already for Yoongi as something really apparent to the universe. He just simply clicked his tongue, crossed his arm and turned his attention towards the professor instead.

“Shut up.”

Seokjin did, eventually, before he managed to slip out a-, “But I’m happy you did.”

In the back of his mind, he could only thing of how Seokjin actually got Jimin to thank for.

The lecture went on forever. Yoongi realized that he had missed a lot of thing but Seokjin who was sitting beside him was so kind to add in a few these and that even without Yoongi asking. The elder even offered his notebook and he just simply nodded. Even without seeing him, he could see how Seokjin was so happy to have him there. He could only imagine now how Hoseok was going to react to his arrival. He would be buried in another hugs and intertwining limbs, he was sure of it.

Pretty much it was what Seokjin had planned him to face, because the young man had his hand on his shoulder and asked him to spend some time with the other since they would be thrilled to see him. The only thing that he realized was how Seokjin’s hand on his shoulder felt heavier than Jimin’s. He was guided (or more practically shoved) towards the cafeteria afterwards. He heard a particular voice shouting his name from across the cafeteria, followed with a loud shriek. And soon enough Yoongi growled for he realized whose voice it was. Eyes lingered on him, witnessing the embarrassing moment as Hoseok practically dived towards him and pulled him into a tight hug he could barely breath.

“Oh god hyung, I miss you,” he said as he tried his best to pry Hoseok’s hands off of him.

“I thought that you’re touring Korea.”

“Small break before I hit Gwangju next. Just got back from Daegu two days ago. Don’t tell me you finally decided to show up in college because you want to see me, hyung,” Hoseok said, being disgustingly annoying with lips puckered, trying to land a kiss on Yoongi’s unamused face.

“If I knew you’re here, I should have locked myself in my apartment,” he answered before shoving his hand towards Hoseok face, getting the latter out of his personal space if possible.

“Then I’ll be the one who’ll give you a visit,” Hoseok said cheerfully. “But seriously, hyung. It’s really good to see you here, finally. You’re in dire need of sunlight, I legit believe you’ve turned into a vampire now, hyung.”

Yoongi groaned. He didn’t need sunlight when Hoseok had pretty much represented the big ball of fiery gas for him already (and no, it wasn’t a compliment at all).

The younger man dragged him to a seat, one in which he would usually spend his time months ago. Namjoon was already seated there, reading a book with earphones plugged. He certainly didn’t see Yoongi coming before Seokjin tapped his shoulder and he raised his head, catching Yoongi’s eyes.

“Hyung, you’re attending college!” Namjoon said with wide eyes.

Yoongi groaned again, sitting in front of the boy, rolling his eyes. He absolutely hated this, how him attending college becoming such great things for his friends, it looked like they even saw a corpse walking in front of him. Why would they make such a big fuss over this small matter?

“No, I’m just here leisurely, taking a walk,” he hissed to the comment.

They pretty much spent their times like they did months ago, Hoseok falling into the conversation, loud and cheerful. Donghyuk and Hunchul joined them later and both practically made the same reaction like the other did which he answered with a simple groan. But there were still something that Seokjin and Namjoon do, something that entirely different than his other friends did than to simply express the already evident fact of Yoongi being in college. Seokjin was giving him this look like a mother, proudness written clearly across his face. It was as if Yoongi was his son that managed to win a gold medal and he couldn’t be even prouder of him. That was understandable for Seokjin and Yoongi going back to college was practically his gold medal as a proud mom. Whereas Namjoon, that friend gave him another different look entirely, as if there was something that he wanted to say. Yoongi gulped, hoping that it wasn’t questions, about him and Jimin’s relationship in particular.

“I’m happy you’re doing better,” Seokjin said as he was about to stand and head to his next accounting class. Seokjin’s words came more like a whisper to him and he just simply curved his eyebrow.

The elder gave him a warm smile, one that somehow had made him feel guilty. The first time he started locking himself up inside of his apartment, Seokjin was the first one who bombarded him with questions. It wasn’t until his sharp words the other day, did the elder finally left him at peace, giving him exactly what he was asking for. Only now did he feel kind of bad for him, since he could actually understand that Seokjin was simply worried.

“I don’t know what happen to you or what your problem was, but I’m glad you’re doing better,” he said.

Even at this point Yoongi wanted to say that nothing was wrong with him. There was nothing to worry about. But then came the whispers, the television and the nightmares. He would be indeed lying and only now did he understand it.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m-.”

“-perfectly okay, I know,” Seokjin said as if knowing he was going to say that exact words. But then again it was the only answer that Yoongi always said to Seokjin.

“I can sleep now. Without medication. I find something better,” Yoongi said. He found Jimin. Turned out Jimin was what it takes to make him sleep after all.

“I’m happy for you,” Seokjin said. “Don’t forget that you have us, Yoongi. You have friends. You can talk to us about anything.”

He nodded. In the back of his mind, he was having these horrible thoughts, gnawing at his conscience. He thought about how he didn’t need his friends now. He got Jimin and the boy fixed him better than any of his friends could. It was such a horrible thought that Yoongi hated himself for even thinking about that in the first place.

Seokjin’s words echoed through his head as he walked towards his accounting class. He spent the entire lecture messing his own hair, realizing how he didn’t even understand half of it, all in courtesy of being absent for almost two months or so. His mind wandered towards Jimin, wondering whether the boy really went to school like he promised or not. The boy would return to his apartment at the evening. He would, wouldn’t he? The fear of not having Jimin started to bother him as the lecture finally ended and he got this same urge all of a sudden, the one that told him to get back home immediately.

He darted towards the door, thinking about going home as fast as he could, walking down the hallway when a voice called him out.

“Hyung, wait a sec!”

He groaned, turning around to see Namjoon standing behind him.

“What do you want?” he said, sounding colder than he intended himself to be. His palms started sweating and he was familiar with this sensation so well he knew the headache would be making a comeback soon after. It was the same panic that he had when he realized that Jimin was gone. It was the same one when he sat behind his steering wheel.

“I just want to talk,” he said.

“About what? About Jimin?”

“Why would I even talk about Jimin?”

“I don’t know, maybe about whatever the brat said to you. Oh god, whatever he said, just pretends it never exists, okay?” he said. The last thing he needed was his best friend to . Having with a minor could be considered a crime. One that was a boy, on top of that.

Namjoon blinked, seemingly confused.

“No, I just want to talk about what I said the other day. About the car and-,”

Yoongi felt like snapping. Namjoon had said to him to forget that, hadn’t he?

“You’re the one who told me to forget about it yesterday!” he said, raising his tone. “Please, just leave it be. I don’t want to hear any of it.”

“But hyung, yesterday I-”

He ran away. He ignored Namjoon, walking passed bodies in the hallway, blocking whatever his best friend was about to say to him, things that he definitely didn’t want to hear. Only yesterday did he say to forget about it and Yoongi was content with it. Yet now he brought it up again, knowing how uncomfortable Yoongi was with the topic. He wasn’t a murderer. He didn’t kill anybody. Jimin said so, hadn’t he? That he wasn’t a murderer? Jimin said that, right?

It only made everything worse, his palms sweating and his head thumping. He reached the subway station, ignoring how bodies were pressed against his. All he cared about was the same. Getting home, finding Jimin. Good thing was not taking the car, because he was sure that the nightmare would make an appearance easily if he did.

The train ride was torturous. He practically ran all the way from Yeoksam subway station until he reached his apartment, breaths panting. The moment he reached his apartment he half-heartedly expected to see Jimin waiting in the lobby, if not his doormat, even. What actually did was a loud noise, one that always came from a certain annoying boy named Kim Taehyung. As easy as that he had somehow forgotten that he was panicking because it was soon replaced with annoyance.

“Hyung, you’re right on time!” the said boy yelled, getting up from his seat as Yoongi stumbled through the lobby’s door. He groaned. This was definitely not a right time for a stupid neighbor to dote on you for forgetting their keycard (and rather ironically that was the only thing that a Kim Taehyung would ever do).

“I kind of forgot my keycard again,” he said with a cheeky grin. “I’ve called your apartment and I’ve been waiting here for almost two hours now, hyung.” The mean Yoongi inside of him suddenly hoped he didn’t arrive too soon to have Taehyung waited in the lobby even longer, annoying the hell out of their doorman if he could. “They’re so mean they won’t let me get in the elevator even if I’m a permanent residence,” he said, pouting.

He didn’t even say a word, simply ignoring Taehyung’s rant, with panting breath, trying to recover from his impromptu marathon and dragged himself towards the elevator instead. His legs were aching right now and it would feel even worse tomorrow morning, he knew. The boy tailed him towards the elevator. He kept on talking (about how he needed to feed his cat again and an exam he got to study tomorrow or like that) even as they entered the elevator without Yoongi saying a word whatsoever. He didn’t even offer Taehyung any help whatsoever even though he did have the boy’s keycard lying in the bowl of keys beside his door. Being mean had him thinking about not helping the stupid Kim boy at first. But then again he could imagine the worse possible outcome that would play out, in which Taehyung being a such annoying ball of he wouldn’t leave Yoongi in peace. He would then have a whining toddler knocking constantly in front of his own door.

“Oh, by the way hyung, Jimin’s not here?”

Right. Jimin. He kind of forgot how minutes ago he was looking for the boy rather frantically, running all the way back to his apartment. He was hoping to find him here but maybe school simply hadn’t finished yet.

“He went to school today.”

“Wow, that’s great. Which school?” Taehyung chirped.

He just realized that he didn’t know. He should have asked later perhaps. That was when Taehyung started to rant again, not waiting for an answer, and talked about how the both of them should spend a night together studying or something since they were probably in the same grade and both would face Suneung in a few months, until somehow the rant had went on to how the four of them should hang out in Yoongi’s apartment sometimes for a movie instead. That was when Jungkook’s name was mentioned and Yoongi’s mind started rolling.

“About your friend, Jungkook-,”

“He’s actually my boyfriend, hyung. But really, he got mad when I used the term. He’s really handsome, right hyung?” Taehyung said, grinning from ear to ear.

He cursed under his breath how the term ‘boyfriend’ got him remembering the scene that unveiled itself in this very elevator a few days ago. Such kid even managed to have a ‘boyfriend’. Who in the world could even withstand someone as crazy as Taehyung, Yoongi couldn’t bear to understand.

“No, he’s just-,”

The gaze that the boy gave him. That scared look written clearly across his face.

“-he saw me like-,”

-like he was afraid. Like there was something about Yoongi, a person that the boy barely knew, something that scared him, as much as the telephone and the whispers did to Yoongi.

“He saw you like-?”

It was the elevator’s ‘ding’ that got him blinking. The door opened and he just sighed, muttering a small “nothing, forget it.” Why did he even ask about it from Taehyung. He wouldn’t know anything, or maybe Jungkook was just a weird kid as weird as Taehyung was. Who knew, maybe it was his default gaze or something stupid like that and he worried over nothing.

Yoongi brushed it off easily like he denied each and every problems that he had in his life, opening his apartment door and walked inside, only to fish Taehyung’s keycard from the same bowl he kept his car’s key, all the while ignoring Taehyung again who waited outside, this time talking about something like ‘pizza delivery knocking on the wrong door’ and ‘who Min Seunggi is’. He got the keycard and turned around before throwing it towards Taehyung.

“Now shoo,” he said to Taehyung who just grinned before he slammed the door right in front of the boy’s face. He could hear the muffle noise of him yelling a ‘I still need to return this to you, hyung!’

Yoongi sighed, resting his back against the door behind him and pried the scarf off of his neck. Minutes ago he was frantically searching for Jimin. At least Taehyung’s comical act got his mind wandering off a bit from panicking to annoyance. He constantly messed his hair, rubbing his eyes at the same time as he walked towards the couch.

He sat slump there, throwing the oversize scarf towards the table before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He just went to college. Like anything that had ever happened to him, it felt like a dream instead, as if today’s steps that he took in the hallway wasn’t close to a reality, as if he didn’t just speak with Seokjin who gave him such a warm smile, as if he didn’t just meet Taehyung back at the elevator, as if-,

-as if he didn’t wake up to Jimin’s warmth this morning.

He furrowed his eyebrow, right hands fumbling with the sweater he wore to reveal the bloody left wrist. His eyes were still closed yet his fingers could feel it, the fresh cut on his skin, all in courtesy of Jimin’s grabbing them too hard and pretty much digging his fingernails into it. It was one of the marks that Jimin left on him, wasn’t it? He could run to the bathroom and probably saw a bite mark on his shoulder, bruising and green.

That feeling was back, that part of him that desperately in need of Jimin’s existence. Yoongi gritted his teeth and dug his own fingernail this time on the cut. It sting like hell and he knew it. Yet he just purposely did, trying to remember how it felt like when Jimin was the one grabbing onto them so tightly. It was certainly different when it was his fingers that did. He still needed Jimin in the end, and the boy would come home any moment soon.

The moment he opened his eyes and took his fingers off the wound, blood was trinkling down his wrist again and a huge sigh escaped his lips. There was something unsettling about what he just did, because it calmed him in a way. It became a petty resemblance to an ironic replacement that did it job very poorly. Because his own fingers weren’t Jimin’s, and his own nails couldn’t carve his skin as beautiful as Jimin could.

Shaking his head, Yoongi got up, thinking about hitting the shower and calming his raging mind. He shift from the couch and turned around, wanting to head to his own bedroom. That was the moment he saw something hidden underneath a pillow of his couch and the edge of the couch, something that certainly caught his eye. He stopped midway and ended up shoving his hand down the pillows, trying to grab on the dark object that looked faintly like a hilt. He pulled it out to find himself holding a kitchen knife.

There was a kitchen knife hidden in his couch, or rather, forgotten. It was weird to see because he didn’t even remember taking it out or having it by the couch. And what was it even doing on the couch? He wasn’t certainly the one who took it.

But that wasn’t what scared him.

There was a kitchen knife on his couch, one that he didn’t have any recollection of ever taking, and there was blood on it. The red that was smeared on the sharp edge was definitely blood, and this time Yoongi couldn’t even hope for being wrong.