“I want to die.”

          “I know.”

          Namjoon on his cigarette. Yoongi was talking about death again. These days, he walked like he was a robot, unfeeling and uncaring. There was a dead look in his eyes. He was so... blank. It was obvious what he was thinking—Namjoon had seen it before—but he didn’t want to hear it.

          Not again. Not from Yoongi.

          He sighed and smoke billowed from his lips.

          “I’ll follow you anywhere, Yoongi—even if it’s to a grave.”